Page 51 of Of Wind and Terror

“He’s not going to kill us.” Blaze scoffs as if the sheer prospect is absolutely ridiculous.

Which is rather rude, if you ask me. I could totally kill both of them if I so desired to.

I pout instinctively as disappointment rushes through me.

“He’s right,” I sigh forlornly. “I’m not going to kill you…yet.”

I tack that on so they don’t go around thinking I gained a conscience or anything as ridiculous as that. If either of them hurt my cherub, then all bets are off. They'll finally get to see how, exactly, I became the Hunter of Amorite.

Albeit a softer version of the assassin I once was. I have Kassandra to thank for that. She makes me want to be a better male, a better elf, a better…everything. Who would’ve thought that a sweet, innocent lamb could so artfully slay the almighty beast? Huh. Maybe “slay” is the wrong word. Tame? Yes, that seems to fit. She tamed the almighty beast. Made me her monster.

“We need to discuss Kassandra.” I allow my customary smile to slip from my face so they can see how utterly serious I am.

There’s not a lot in life I take seriously…except for Kassandra. My mate. My world. My reason for existing.

Treyton scowls, and Blaze turns rigid beside me, tension rippling through his muscles.

He keeps his gaze trained on Kassandra when he bites out, “What about her?”

“There’s no sense tiptoeing around the subject.” I lazily remove my dagger from its sheath and brandish it back and forth in the air, using it as a prop for my speech. “I see the way you both look at the little Death Whisperer. Ironic, if you think about it, considering I couldn’t see until just recently. Though even when I was blind, I wasn’t dumb.”

I tap the blade against my chin, not caring when it accidentally nicks my skin and causes me to bleed. A little blood never hurt anyone before. I actually like bleeding; it reminds me that I’m still alive.

“I think I got a little off topic…”

“You think so?” Treyton says dryly.

Blaze growls out, “Get on with it.”

He leans slightly in Kassandra’s direction, as if he’s itching to go back to her, sit beside her, run his fingers through the few wayward strands of golden hair that escaped her braid.

“Obviously, we’re all her mates.” I offer them a cheerful smile that’s in direct contradiction to the darkness roiling through me. “And it’s our duty to love and protect her and kill her enemies and gift her body parts and blah blah blah.”

The two of them gape at me in stunned silence, disbelief etched across their faces. Treyton blinks his wide blue eyes at me, while Blaze’s face distorts into a hideous scowl.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he snaps, not bothering to modulate his volume. “How did you concoct such a grand delusion?”

“So you’re not her mate,” I say, frowning. “Hmmm. No matter. More for us?—”

“Of course I’m her mate.” Blaze suddenly stands in front of me, his eyes blazing with unfettered anger. No, not anger. That’s too tame of a word to describe the storm brewing in his gaze. It’s deeper than rage or wrath. Deadlier. “She’s. Mine.”

“You’re Gaiadamn insane if you think she’s yours.” Treyton shoves at Blaze’s shoulder, though the Fall Prince barely stumbles.

I’m a tall male, but Blaze is something else entirely, and not just because of his height—which is smaller than me, by the way. I consider that a win. His entire body seems to be constructed entirely out of muscles—the type you receive after years and years of honing them to perfection. If I wasn’t already obsessed with Kassandra, I might’ve admired Blaze and the raw power he exudes.

But alas, there’s only one fae capable of captivating me.

I’ll give you a hint—her name rhymes with Lassandra and starts with a K.

“So Treyton feels the mating bond. Blaze feels the mating bond. I feel the mating bond…” I once again tap my blade against my chin in mock contemplation. “Interesting, is it not? Especially since I’m almost positive the Winter Prince also thought she was his mate.”

“Calan?” Raw incredulity bleeds into Blaze’s voice as he gapes at me, shock momentarily replacing the anger on his face. “Calan believes her to be his mate?”

“Keep your Gaiadamn voice down, you mammoth imbecile!” Treyton hisses, casting a pointed look at a still-sleeping Kassandra.

Blaze follows the direction of his gaze, and I swear both of their expressions soften, some of the anger seeping from their pores in gradual waves.

“Fae can’t have more than one mate,” Blaze says, turning back to me.

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