Page 45 of Of Wind and Terror

“But—”

“I know you’re the cause of his…current state,” I sign, leveling a glare at Blaze. I swear the big fae actually blanches and shifts away from me. “You fix him.”

“You have no proof,” he grumbles, but he reluctantly begins to walk towards a tiny stream bisecting the village—one of the only sources of water they have.

I wave my hand in the air to capture his attention, and only when he turns to face me do I sign, “And don’t you dare drown my pet.”

Blaze narrows his eyes. “Bossy female.”

As Blaze stomps away with a smug-looking Runt in his arms, I turn to finish loading the carriage—only to find that everything has already been piled up inside the tiny cart. Both Aleksander and Treyton grin at me.

“I never thought I’d see the day when a tiny slip of a female orders Prince Blaze to do her bidding,” Treyton says with a chuckle.

“Do we need a second carriage to hold Blaze’s balls?” Aleksander quips, twirling his sword around and around in his hand.

It’s a miracle that it doesn’t nick the Spring Prince’s throat. It comes awfully close on more than one occasion.

“Do you really think Blaze’s balls need an entire carriage?” Treyton retorts.

“Do you see the size of that fae?” Aleksander expertly flips the sword in the air and then catches it.

“I feel as if you’ve given his ball size a lot of thought,” Treyton says.

Aleksander shrugs, completely unperturbed. “I must admit, I spend countless hours before I fall asleep thinking about all of your balls and trying to decide which one has the largest pair.”

I laugh before I can stop myself, and both males turn to stare at me, shock registering on their faces for a fraction of a tick before it’s replaced by amusement. Treyton’s eyes warm in a way that suffuses me in fire, the flames eating away at my skin in the most delicious way possible.

I blush and duck my head.

Treyton…wants to be my friend.

I can’t help but replay my conversation with him over and over again, searching for any alternative meaning to his heartfelt words. But there was nothing but sincerity emanating from his eyes as he stared at me.

The strangest thing of all was the tiny pang of disappointment that reverberated through me.

Why does my heart ache at the thought of only being friends with Treyton?

“You should laugh more often,” Treyton tells me gently, a tiny smile forming on his face. “It’s a pretty sound.”

“I can make you laugh,” Aleksander volunteers cheerfully. “Like this.”

Before I can stop him, Aleksander lifts his free hand and then whacks Treyton across the back of the head. Treyton’s so stunned that all he can do is gasp in disbelief, his pink hair falling forward to obscure his eyes from view. He brushes away the strands with a huff of annoyance.

And the entire scene is so ridiculous that I can’t help but laugh out loud again. Once I start, I can’t stop. I clutch my belly as my body shakes with laughter.

It’s not just because I’m amused. No, the noise is an outlet for all of the emotions swirling inside of me and vying for dominance. My fear for the future and the Mark of Chaos. My confusion over the princes. My worry for Calan. All of them have compounded inside of me and then found release in my slightly hysterical laughter.

Aleksander watches me with bemusement.

“Ah. So violence does excite you. Good to know.” The elf rubs his hands together with a positively devious smile on his face.

My laughter drains, and I lift my hands in the air to sign, “No violence.”

Aleksander arches an eyebrow. “I think you said the word ‘violence.’” His smirk broadens, revealing sharp, white teeth. “Are you asking for more of it?”

I shake my head adamantly, but he pretends to misunderstand.

“A lot more, yes?” He waves his sword back and forth in the air with an elaborate flourish. “I always suspected you were bloodthirsty. It’s the quiet ones you need to watch out for.”

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