Wicked Prince: Book Two in the Territorial Mates Series

by Twomey, Mary E.

  I can’t. It’s sweet tha she believes in me enough to think I can let her move closer to danger without me there to shield her, but I don’t have it in me. I stand through my exhaustion and go with her into the bedroom. “What do ye need in here?”

  She keeps her word, and her eyes survey only the floor. “Just… Ah. There we go.” She lifts up some linens from the floor and tucks them under her arm.

  We go back into the main room, which is a better choice, with bigger pieces of furniture to block the entry points. She hands out blankets, because my woman thinks about other people. “I know we’re not going to get a whole lot of sleep tonight, but it’s drafty, so at the very least, we can get comfortable while we wait.”

  The others start trading stories about who they were before they were frozen, and what they were doing tha led them so close to the cave. I couldn’t care less.

  When Lily sets a flat pillow on the ground beside me, I raise an eyebrow. “You’re tired,” she explains. “You need to lie down, and I don’t want your head on the bare floor.”

  Her words seem simple enough to outsiders, but to me, they’re precious. Everyone assumes shifters don’t need or want things like pillows and blankets, because we can sleep on the floor out in the open easier than the other races. The fact tha she treats me like a man with dignity gives me just one more reason to love her. And really, tha list has been piling up for five years.

  I lay in front of the barricaded door and pull her down beside me. “If we survive the night, we’re still stuck in here,” she whispers, keeping her worry from the others while they talk about the lives they’ve been missing out on. “We can’t get out.”

  I hold her in my arms, unsure if it’s wiser to guard her from the Gorgonell or from the fae in the room. I settle for blocking the doorway with my body, and wrapping an arm around her to shield her from the whispering fae as best I can. “Des will come for us,” I promise her. “They can provide food and water to sustain us. All we have to do is keep reinforcing the houses while we wait for help to come.”

  “I can’t do magic,” she explains while she squirms, reminding me of her limitations. “So I’m useless for growing food or conjuring up water.”

  “Now, what do ye call sucking the curses out of all these people? You’re a lot of things, pup, but none of them are useless.”

  She smells like lilies, peaches and soap when she burrows into my chest. “But I don’t actually do anything for that. I’m just a vessel. You did the charm itself. I’m sorry I can’t make food or water like the rest of the fae.”

  I kiss her forehead. “Then they’ll repay us for their freedom by keeping us alive. See? Nothing to worry about.”

  As if on cue, the house shakes with a jolt from the Gorgonell throwing its massive body into the side near the bedroom. The whole structure groans, and though it’s been doing tha all night, this assault seems particularly brutal.

  A splintering sound accompanies the next crash, and when I look up, one of the beams near the bedroom has cracked. Sawdust trickles to the floor, and I know it’ll be a miracle if we last until morning. I’m careful as I sit up, pulling Lily with me. “Over to the far wall,” I instruct quietly as I stand. There’s a series of chairs and a table bracing the window opposite the front door. My movements are graceful and soundless as I make my way to the door, motioning for one of the lads to follow me. “We need this table to hide under if the roof collapses. When these beams start to come down, it’s not going to be pretty, aye?”

  To his credit, he doesn’t shudder away from me, but nods through his fear. “How can I help?”

  Good. He’s got some sense. “I need ye to make sure the towel tha’s over the window doesn’t fall down. Can ye hold it in place while I move the table?”

  “Sure, man. Of course.” He gets into position and nods, the barely-there red scruff on his chin making me guess his age to be around seventeen or so. “Alright, I’ve got it. Go ahead.”

  A fae and a shifter working together without a fight. It’s nice, despite what we’re up against.

  Once I’ve got the table away from the window, one of the lasses darts across the room and touches a board on the wall a few times, plopping something into her palm, then handing it to the lad.

  Tacks. They’re tacking the towel in place, which makes me want to kick myself for not thinking of it first.

  Another crash against the frame, and I motion for everyone to huddle under the table. They almost fit, with the exception of one brave-faced Lily, who is biting her nails. She’s been holding back to keep herself controlled, but something in her seems on the verge of snapping. “Under the table, pup,” I instruct her. “I don’t want anything falling on your noggin.”

  She shakes her head. “There isn’t enough room. If you turn into a wolf, you’ll fit.”

  I scoff at her protest. “You’re smaller than my wolf. Under the table, Lily.”

  Instead of listening to me, she stands. “I need to do something, but first you have to turn into your wolf and get under the table.”

  I rear back, shocked tha she thinks I’m capable of taking shelter for myself over keeping her from harm. “Do what ye need to from under this table. Now, Lily!” I don’t think I have it in me to raise my voice at her, but I’m as close to tha as I’ll dare.

  Everyone under the table screams when the house endures another attack.

  Though the fae are tear-streaked and cowering, her voice is calm. “We don’t have much time. I can end this, but I have to go into the bedroom alone. We both know this house isn’t going to last the night. It might not last another five minutes. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  My upper lip curls. “Not on your life. We stay together. No way are ye going into tha bedroom! Tha’s where the Gorgonell is aiming, smashing himself into tha wall.”

  “Then I have to hurry! I can get us out of this, but you have to trust me.”

  I don’t trust tha she won’t sacrifice herself for these quivering fae who’ve never deserved her. “If ye have a plan, then I’ll go with ye. Either we live together or we die together. I don’t much care which at this point, so long as we’re together.”

  She acts like my words stun her, like she’s taken aback by my unswerving devotion. She looks truly terrified, though her fears don’t seem to be directed at the bull or me as she clutches the fabric of my shirt. “Please let me go alone. You won’t love me anymore if we go together. Please, Salem. Let me be selfish. Let me keep you. Believe me, that won’t happen if you come with me.”

  She’s afraid I’ll leave her? Tha’s mad.

  “I’ve never heard you say anything so ridiculous in all the time I’ve known ye. I’ll risk it, whatever it is. You’ll get under the table after we do whatever ye need to do in the bedroom?”

  She nods somberly, like she’s resigned to me walking out on her or some nonsense. She’s already darting around me, aiming her steps toward danger for reasons I can’t begin to understand. She has to throw her weight against the door to open it now, and I know it’s because the structural integrity of the house has been compromised.

  I curse loudly when I see the wall dented inward, too many beams splintered inward from the impact of the bull’s girth. “Hurry, Lily!”

  She shuts the door behind me, and there’s a control that trumps her trepidation. It’s hard to look away. “Cover your nose and mouth. Take a big breath and don’t inhale until you’re in the main room with the others. Understand?”

  “What?”

  “You cannot breathe in here, Salem!”

  “Why?”

  She’s wringing her hands with regret and anxiety. “Because I’m about to fill this place with poison! Promise me you won’t take a breath.”

  “What are ye talking about? What poison? Did I miss something stashed in the closet?”

  She doesn’t answer, but waits for me to comply. I feel stupid when I make a show of drawing in a long breath. I quickly cover my nose and mouth with both my shirt and
my forearm.

  I don’t understand what I’m looking at. I mean, Lily can’t perform magic. She’s told us as much loads of times. Calls herself stupid, which guts me. But I can’t blink through the sight of her blooming purple flowers from her palms. Most fae sprout one plant at a time from their palm, but the petals are shooting out from her like confetti. This isn’t a fluke, some burst of magic she’s unprepared for.

  She knew she could do this.

  “Don’t breathe!” She reminds me through her tears. “They’re poisonous. One plant can make a full-grown man lose consciousness for a day at a time, and I’m growing a lot more than a single plant here. I can’t take any chances with a creature this big. The stench will build up. When he breaks the wall and gets inside, this should be enough to take him down at first whiff.”

  She’s breathing the poisonous air but isn’t fatigued by it. The moment the petals pile up along the battered wall and make a two-foot wide line, she spins on her heel and grabs me by the elbow. She jerks me into the main room and runs for the far wall, snatching up a sheet. She crams it under the door, making sure no polluted air reaches us. “You have to shift, Salem. If you breathe in too many toxins, you could pass out, or worse. Just to be safe.”

  I stand gaping at her, wishing I had the time to do things like demand some sort of explanation, but it’s then tha the house gives a deafening groan. I shift into my wolf and dart to her, snagging my teeth in her pant leg and directing her to the table. She doesn’t put up a fight this time, but crouches under the wooden shelter as the bedroom begins to splinter apart.

  I don’t understand what I saw, or maybe I do understand, but I can’t fathom it. All I know for sure is tha my mate is terrified, so I move around to shield any exposed spots with my body while the ceiling begins to fall around us.

  23

  A Girl Born Wrong

  Lilya

  The silence is scarier than the sound of wood breaking. The deafening nothing has been ringing in my ears for two minutes now. “Everyone, stay where you are.” I should keep the bite out of my voice, but I want them to be afraid enough to fall in line without a fight. Here only Salem knows my horrible secret, and he barely understands the tip of the madness. If word spreads about what a horrible person I am, well, there goes any chance at uniting the territories.

  I crawl out from under the table, feeling like I’m walking through a haze, as if my body isn’t attached to me. It’s walking toward the bedroom, but am I? Normal movements are too surreal for my mind to latch onto. I’m horrified, terrified, not just of the Gorgonell waiting for me, but of the fact that another person knows my secret. My father and Fiora are the only ones who knew, and now Salem.

  Best case scenario, Salem will leave me for all I’ve done. Worst case scenario, Salem will have no choice but to tell the others, who will have me put away. I deserve to be punished for capital crimes I committed when I was a girl.

  I didn’t mean to kill my classmates. But this is different. Now murdering with my dastardly talent is intentional. I need to take down this Gorgonell. I need to free Lexi, even if he leaves me after Salem tells him all I’ve done.

  Instead of opening the bedroom door, I opt for moving the furniture blocking the front entrance, in case any toxins waft through the air towards the cowering fae. I don’t know what Salem’s take on any of this is, but he skitters out from under the table and trots by my side until I pause, my fist on the handle. “You can’t follow me, Salem. I can’t have you breathing in anything dangerous. I’ll go check.”

  He whines and flattens his body to the floor. I know he doesn’t like staying behind, but he understands that this next part is above his pay grade. My footsteps are careful as I move out into the stillness of the night. It seems even the leaves are afraid to rustle. My feet are silent as I walk on the grass, my heart pounding with every step I take away from the severely compromised shelter. My eyes are on the ground, in case the Gorgonell ran off and might be somewhere in the dark, looking for me and biding his time until I glance up.

  I’m cautious as I round the corner, my heart in my throat and my stomach twisting with too much trepidation. I feel every switch of the breeze, every thin hair on my arm that rustles. I’m on high alert until my eyes sweep over the bull’s hoof, splayed and motionless as it rests partway on the grass and part on the floor of the bedroom, atop bits of the splintered wall he managed to collapse. My gaze climbs up the rest of its body, stopping at its brown, furry neck which is thicker around than Salem’s shoulders. The beast is enormous, and whatever relief I feel that it’s been subdued is swallowed up by a sick wave that forces my lunch to rise in my throat. There is no way any team of soldiers could have taken this mammoth creature down. Those poor fae didn’t have a chance, and are lucky they were turned to stone instead of trampled, or gored by its javelin-like horns.

  No one is watching me, so when my knees buckle by its side, I don’t feel ashamed. His ribs are moving slowly up and down. Though he’s sleeping now, I know that won’t be the case forever. The purple petals haven’t blown away because the wind isn’t all that bold in a place like this. The wind knows better than to make its mark on this forsaken part of the world.

  I move around the bull toward its backside and get on my knees, digging in the dirt with my fingernails to make a hole deep enough to bury my crime. Over and over I claw at the earth, hoping to dig a pit big enough to hold all my indiscretions. This spot in the earth will bear the worst of me, keeping my shameful secret so the world can find a way to smile at my face, as if nothing at all has ever been wrong.

  Nothing will grow in this spot ever again. I swallow hard as I scoop the petals into the hole that can never be deep or wide enough to hold all my many sins. I don’t often think of myself as fae, but I feel it in my bones as guilt swarms when I purposely murder a portion of the ground. The poison is too strong for anything to bloom here ever again. I leave a trail of death in my path whenever I trick myself into thinking I can be me—that the world has a place for a girl born wrong.

  I scoop the dirt and grass over the petals, and already, the grass begins to wither.

  I’m a murderer.

  So I know the next step to take.

  I dig deep in my reserves, fishing around for the correct mindset to produce what I need to finish the job. It can’t be a run-of-the-mill poison for a big guy like this. It has to be planned to scale. I remember watching fae teachers grunt with the effort of producing the bits of nature they needed. Some are easier to bring into the world than others. Standard trees, though bigger, didn’t look like they required much effort at all. Plants with purpose have to be finessed, and the one I need now is layered with purpose.

  Finally, one small plant sprouts from my palm. It seems so innocent and sweet, this white flower. It doesn’t look like much, but I remember Fiora training me how to weaponize this one. I don’t know how she got her hands on a fae book of curses, but I’ve learned not to ask questions I don’t want answered. She wore gloves, a mask over her face, and stood far enough away. Her distance made me nervous, her careful instructions of how the flower should be bloomed and administered set deep in my mind. Fiora was never afraid of me, which gave me license not to fear myself.

  Though, in moments like this, I can’t help the tremble in my lower lip. I barely remember being a little girl, but I know I didn’t dream of moments where my purpose is to destroy.

  My shoulders roll back as I give the plant its full minute to bloom and rest in my palm. Tonight, I remind myself, my mission isn’t solely to destroy; I’m here to protect. I’m protecting my people, taking one step toward repaying Faveda for the lives I stole, back when I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m protecting the fae prince, wicked as he might seem for scandalizing the nation with our funky marriage arrangement. I’m protecting Salem, who will most likely run from me the moment we’re freed.

  It’s an effort to remind myself not to let my gaze slide over the enormous bull’s eyes. I do my best to keep my
focus on his jaw, parting his slack mouth and pressing the petals atop his wide tongue in a neat, slobber-stuck row. He stinks of rotting meat and mud, and I’m certain now I do, too.

  When I close him up, I stand and jog back to the house, venturing in through the front door. Though no one in here is going to turn me to stone, I keep my eyes aimed at the floor.

  Salem is still in his wolf form, which is probably best. We don’t have to talk about any of it yet. I can pretend a little while longer that I’m normal, that he sees only my good parts.

  “Let’s go, guys. The Gorgonell is dead, but we should still get out of here. This house isn’t exactly stable. Grab the linens and anything we might need.”

  Cries of relief are mingled with “how did you kill it?” I ignore everyone and trot to the second house, letting them know the good news. Their house isn’t crushed to ruins, but the structure is on the brink of collapse on one severely bruised side.

  Everyone has questions, stories and emotions bubbling out of them. I am so beyond all of it that everything pings off my chest. Nothing sinks in, only that I need Lexi. I need to see him look at me like I’m amazing, like I’m just the right thing in his life. I want to pretend, and I’ve learned fae princes can make you believe anything.

  I stalk out into the night with my wolf mate by my side, in search of my fallen prince.

  24

  Stolen Bed

  Lilya

  “Salem, we need to bring the others back.” I don’t care if it takes all night. I don’t care if I pass out. I want this done with.

  Salem transforms onto two legs beside me. “Okay, but slower this time. More rest in between each one. You’ll pass clean out if we rush it again.”

  Good. That’s what I want. I want to feel nothing. To numb it all. If I have to poison myself to get there, so be it. I’m relieved Salem isn’t asking me about it all, though I know it’s coming.