Page 1 of Of Wind and Terror

1

CALAN

The clash of blades echoes around me. Dark, smooth obsidian meets piercing metal as the priests attempt to hold off Draven and his army.

The Night Prince himself stands near the front of the procession, a cold, cunning smile stretching and distorting the scar on his face.

I take a step away from the window instinctively as a strange calmness envelops me. Usually, it’s a cold sensation, like icicles pricking at my skin, but just now, it feels warm. Heated, almost.

I attempt to look at everything analytically. Facts. Facts I can deal with. It’s when pesky emotions or feelings are involved that things begin to get murky.

Fact one, Draven and his army of Night soldiers are attacking Gaia’s temple.

Fact two, he arrived much quicker than he would’ve if he came from the Night Kingdom, which means he must have a base nearby. But where? The Day Court? The Summer Court palace? I suppose it doesn’t matter. Draven’s reach has proven to be infinite.

Fact three, he’s here for Kassandra.

He didn’t say her name out loud, but there’s only one girl in the vicinity fascinating enough to warrant an attack.

Fact four, the bastard planted fake dreams into my head, luring me here. No, not me. Kassandra. All of this has been orchestrated in an attempt to kidnap the bewitching female.

Rage sludges through my veins, cool and sticky like tar, and creates a dark-red tint that obscures my vision.

How dare he impersonate my dead brother?

How dare he lead me and Kassandra here?

How fucking dare he?

And fact number five, the most damning of all, Kassandra—my mate—is gone.

Gone.

Whisked away during the battle by an unknown foe.

My heart crawls up my throat like a hairy spider as I once again glance in both directions, searching for Kassandra’s shock of golden hair. All I see is the intricate statue of Gaia, her face serene and her arms extended as if she wishes to pull me into a hug.

Mocking me.

Yes, it almost appears as if the statue is mocking me.

Why would the goddess bring a mate into my life just to wrench her away? I may not necessarily want a lover, but with Kassandra…

It feels different.

She feels different.

The icy numbness that has characterized my life for far too long has begun to melt. I’m not sure what will be left of me when the final barrier dissipates, leaving me raw and vulnerable, nothing but a beating organ exposed for attack.

“Where is she?” I bare my teeth at Gaia, but of course, the stone statue doesn’t reply. She just continues to stare at me with eerie, vacant eyes, her robust body decorated with an assortment of flowers and vines. “WHERE IN GAIA’S NAME IS SHE?”

Something cold touches the back of my neck. Almost instantly, my body seizes as if it’s been struck by lightning. Every muscle goes taut.

“Prince Calan,” a smooth, masculine voice murmurs.

I turn, keenly aware of the blade pricking my throat, and come face-to-face with Prince Draven of the Night Court. Blood stains his right cheek, a brutal slash of red, and his dark hair is wildly disheveled, a few strands shorter than the others as if they’ve been caught by the edge of a blade during the battle. Even still, the smile on his face is positively wicked, almost lurid, hinting at an insanity I never would’ve expected to see in the Night Prince.

We’ve never been friendly, so to speak, but he’s always been more lighthearted than the other princes. Quick to smile or defuse the tension with a cutting barb or retort. The Day Prince, on the other hand…

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