Below me, my guards and servants are busy with activity. The news of the woman’s arrival has spread quickly. I worry that my people will put too much faith in us. I spot Navi in the courtyard below, she waves.
Slowly, I descend. My great wings beat against the wind to fight against gravity until my feet touch the stones of the courtyard. I prowl towards Navi, rolling out my shoulders. She watches me appraisingly.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I wonder if it’s wise to keep the woman here,” Navi says bluntly.
If I could cock a brow at her, I would. “What do you mean? Where else would be keep the woman who could save my people?”
“I mean, I wonder if it was wise to bring her here at all. She doesn’t appear to be a Bloodbane witch. Or a witch at all.” She pauses. “I fear the scholars may have made a mistake.”
“She is the one Navi, I can smell it on her,” I purr.
Navi mulls over this. “It will be challenging.”
“Is she still throwing a tantrum?” I sit, my tail flicking out languidly behind me.
“She calmed down after you left. I heard weeping.”
If my heart weren’t so cold and if I hadn’t lived for so many years, I might have pitied the woman. But my people’s plight is far worse than hers. “I will visit her tonight.”
Navi sighs, her hand gripped around the hilt of her sheathed sword. “Be careful, Altair.”
“Why?” I stretch. “Worried the little mortal will break my me?”
Navi says nothing, but her eyes tell me all that I need to know. I rise and stalk past her, the claws of my feet clicking on the stone. Navi always was too over-protective of me. She strides away towards the soldier’s barracks and I watch her stiff back. She was there the night Maaz cursed me. And I know she feels responsible for what happened. Even in a thousand years she hasn’t forgiven herself.
Night is falling, the sun dripping over the horizon like molten gold. I feel a tinge of nerves in my stomach at the thought of meeting the woman in person for the first time. Mortals know very little of my realm and of magic, they think the Fae are children’s stories. And they think witches are pagans.
She must believe me.
I need her to believe me. To trust me.
Or my entire world will pay the price.
As the last drop of sunlight fades, my body transforms from the winged beast to my Fae form in a cloud of smoke. Maaz always was very theatrical. I brush off my black tunic, and a feather floats to the ground. I grind it beneath my foot before heading back to the castle.
Outside the woman’s room, I pause in front of a mirror and study myself. I run a hand over my black hair, tucking loose strands back into place. Dressed in an obsidian tunic and pants, I wonder if I look too intimidating.
I am Altair, King of the Fae.
Intimidating is my personal preference.
I wait and listen. The woman is silent behind the door, but I catch the soft sounds of her breath. She seems calmer now.
Good. Because we don’t have much time for her to ready herself.
Without knocking, I throw the door open and stride into the room. The woman is on the bed, sleeping. She must have tired herself out with all the crying and raging. I pause over her. She looks harmless while she sleeps. I reach a hand out to tuck a stray strand of light brown hair out of her face instinctively.
Suddenly, her hand is at my wrist, gripping it tightly. She tugs it, jerking it to the side and tossing my arm away. Off balance, I stumble, just as she lunges from the bed. She sprints for the door, but I’m in front of her in an instant. She gasps, surprised by my speed. I grin down at her, my hazel eyes flashing with rage.
She darts around me, but my hand is there to catch her. I wrap my arm around her waist as she struggles against me.
“Let me go, bastard!” She snarls.
I drag her back towards the bed and she squirms more fiercely. But I’m stronger than her and I’m faster than her. She could never escape me. With a grunt, I lift her from the ground and toss her carelessly onto the bed. She yelps, bouncing softly and then scrambles to the edge, as if to run again.
“Not so fast,” I growl, pushing her back onto the mattress.
She glares fearfully at me as I pin her down. Straddling her now, my knees are on either side of her waist, my hands pinning her arms around her head. She turns to the side, exposing that delicious, porcelain neck. I swallow with some difficulty as I resist the urge to run my tongue along the nape of her perfect skin.
As if she can sense my inclination, she snaps her head towards me. Her eyes meet mine, fierce and fiery. She studies my face, the scowl on her lips deepening as she takes in my features. I squeeze her wrists tightly and she winces. Her eyes drift to my pointed ears. Surprised, she sucks in a sharp breath, her chest rising. My gaze drops to her chest, to the cleavage visible above the neckline of her gown. Beautiful, flawless skin. I growl, instinct demanding that I claim her for myself. At the sound, her eyes go wide and fearful.
“I won’t hurt you,” I say, forcing some semblance of kindness into my voice.
“You’re hurting me right now,” she retorts, clenching her hands into fists.
“Because you were trying to escape.” I tilt my head towards the open door. “Though I don’t know where you would go. You certainly wouldn’t get far. My guards are all around and
