Page 44 of Of Wind and Terror

Gaia help me, I’ll try.

I thought she needed a monster, but I’m not so sure anymore. There are enough monsters in the world for her to face. Her mate shouldn’t be one of them.

So I’ll be her friend. I’ll repent. I’ll prostrate myself at her feet and pray for forgiveness. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll do enough to be worthy of her.

Gaia only knows there’s a lot I need to atone for.

My sins could fill an entire book, but I’m finally ready to share the tome with Kassandra. I want her to know me, my past, and the events that made me the fae I am today.

I just hope she can forgive me once all is said and done.

17

KASSANDRA

It’s as we’re loading up the carriages to leave that Runt sidles up to me, pawing at the ground with a yowl. The pacon’s fur is matted with dirt and other unsavory materials and appears slightly damp. His horns are covered in a brown substance I pray is mud and not…well…

“Where have you been, baby?” I sign, knowing he won’t understand me but feeling the need to baby talk to my pet anyway.

I crouch down so we’re at eye level, and he rubs his wet cheek against my own with a contented purr.

Blaze told me that Runt separated from him last night and was exploring the town. Now, seeing the disheveled appearance of my pacon, I can’t help but wonder if something more nefarious happened.

Runt abruptly backs away from me and hisses at something over my shoulder.

No, not something.

Someone.

I quirk an eyebrow at an approaching Blaze, who simply shrugs, completely unrepentant.

“What?” he asks innocently—well, as innocently as an enormous warrior prince is capable of.

“Why is my pacon wet and covered in mud?” I sign, and it takes the Fall Prince a few ticks to understand what I’m trying to sign.

“He must’ve gotten up to no good while we were separated,” Blaze responds, throwing Runt a disapproving glare. “What a naughty pacon. You should just leave the monster here while we travel.”

Runt hisses and bats at the air with his claws.

“Blaze.” I give him a warning look, but he simply whistles under his breath, the epitome of nonchalance. “I’ll ask you one more time. Why is my pacon wet and covered in mud?”

Blaze smirks wickedly. “That’s not mud, little beast.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s?—”

I hold a hand up to stop him in mid-sentence. “It’s mud. I refuse to accept any other alternative.”

Blaze laughs out loud at that, and I swear I hear the sound in the center of my being. It rumbles through me, and I wonder if this is what it feels like to be in the center of an earthquake, to feel the earth trembling beneath your feet and watch the mountains and trees shake. Yet, surprisingly, I feel steady.

What is happening to me?

I gingerly pluck Runt off the ground…and then thrust him into Blaze’s arms. Both males hiss simultaneously and glare at each other. I can’t help but giggle at the sight.

“Little beast…”

“Clean him up,” I instruct.

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