Court of Winter (Fae of Snow & Ice, #1)(36)



The young male backed up, dropping his sword as his righteous anger morphed into palpable fear, but I didn’t pay him or the approaching lord any further attention as my focus shifted to the fallen fairy, the one who was seconds away from dying.

A deep throbbing sensation started in my gut as a strange yearning began to fill me. And then the land was rushing past me as my feet carried me like the wind toward the fallen guard.

Everything happened as though time stood still. Breath rushed from my lungs. The throb in my belly grew. My attention focused with pinprick precision on the dying male.

I slammed into the crowd around him, pushing through the guards hovering at his side, fighting to reach the fallen male. I had to get to him. Had to help him. Had to—

“Out of the way, the lot of ya!” a male roared.

The commanding demand fell on my deaf ears. A shadow shimmered along the dying male’s form. My gaze was fixated on that shadow. I needed to—

Rough hands yanked me back just as the healer hunkered at the male’s side. The healer’s affinity rose swift and strong, clouding the nearly dead fairy as an awareness crept over me.

Something was rising from the dying male, like a translucent cloud. The throbbing in my belly increased just as the prince’s head snapped toward the dying male’s form, then to me.

My vision tunneled again, shrinking inward to that hovering essence. Hold it. Protect it.

I fought against the hands holding me, but then the prince was suddenly there, towering over me.

Disbelief swam in his eyes. “You’re—” His mouth snapped shut, but his eyes widened more and more. Blood drained from his face as though he’d seen a ghost.

A guard tried to yank me away as Lord Crimsonale watched us with narrowing eyes, but a deep growl vibrated the prince’s chest as he shot the guard a furious glare. “Release her. Now.”

The guard stumbled back as the chaos around the fallen guard increased. Magic surrounded the dying fairy, but Prince Norivun’s attention fixated entirely on my face. His gaze roamed over my features as his eyes swam with confusion, awe, and something . . . primal.

“And who is this, Prince Norivun?” Lord Crimsonale asked.

The prince snarled, and then his arms encircled me before we shot into the sky. He moved so fast that I couldn’t breathe. The ground rushed by as the castle’s yard disappeared behind us.

My breath stuttered. “What are you doing?” I gasped.

I tried to see over his shoulder. I had to know what became of that dying male, but the prince flew too quickly, and the sight was gone before I could blink.

I beat on the prince’s shoulder. “Why did we leave?”

I had to . . .

The prince’s hold tightened, his breaths coming rapidly.

“Why!” I yelled again.

But the prince ignored me as he descended over the castle’s inner buildings. Steam rose from boilers. Smoke curled from chimneys. Fae dressed in working gear scurried about. Dozens of servants tended to who knew what within the kingdom’s court as that guard was possibly dying.

My breaths came faster and faster and faster. Too fast.

“Will he live?” I finally asked, my chest heaving.

“Most likely. Murl got there in time.”

My heart beat erratically as that strange throbbing sensation in my gut dimmed. I brought a hand to my belly, wondering if something at breakfast hadn’t agreed with me, but then we were spiraling downward, and any thoughts over food sickness fled.

The prince landed in a small open courtyard, shifting me in his arms as his booted feet touched the ground. I still thought of the dying fairy. Still wanted to know what had become of him.

“Can we go back?”

“No,” the prince bit out.

Snow covered the courtyard and kicked up when Prince Norivun placed me on my feet. My toes touched the powder, then met cobblestones slick with ice beneath it.

Shouts and yells carried to us from a distance, probably commotion around the healer and injured male. But it was muffled, like background noise. I would have barely noticed it if not for my heightened state.

I stepped away from the prince. He still held onto me, his large hand anchored to the small of my back. And his expression . . . He was looking at me so intently . . . almost possessively.

“Are you okay?” I asked uneasily.

His head snapped back, and his expression wiped clean.

Once accustomed to the slippery surface, I put more distance between us, needing to get away from the barely leashed energy surrounding the prince.

I wrapped my arms around my middle. “Who was that other male? Lord Crimsonale?”

The prince looked away. “An archon. Nobody you need to worry about.”

I lowered the hood on my cape and forced my breathing to slow. That strange throbbing that had started in my gut finally vanished completely.

For a moment, the prince and I stared at one another. Two yards of distance now separated us, yet it didn’t feel like enough. An intensity I’d never seen before carved his features into something that made me want to run. He looked so fierce yet also as if he were in shock. It was a conundrum I couldn’t comprehend.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked again because he looked anything but.

He shook himself, and another moment passed, then he tore a hand through his hair and waved dismissively at the courtyard we stood in. “I’m fine, and welcome to the Court of Winter. Although that wasn’t the introduction I’d hoped for.”

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