Page 79 of Of Wind and Terror

Aleksander places a hand on Kass’s stomach, forcing her to halt, and then unsheathes his sword with practiced efficiency. He begins to inch in front of Kassandra while I move even closer to her from behind.

“What is this?” Kassandra signs, glancing at me over her shoulder.

I translate for the elf.

“It appears to be a… What do you fae call them? It appears to be megart webs,” Aleksander muses, sounding completely unperturbed by the disturbing sight.

“Have you ever seen a megart this big?” I ask in disbelief.

“We refer to them as spiders,” Aleksander drawls casually. He then adds, his voice subdued, “No. I’ve never seen one this big.”

Runt scurries farther ahead of us, and soon the thick webs obscure him from view. The webs press in on me from all sides, and I wince when one of them brushes my arm. It’s sticky to the touch, almost sickeningly so.

“Fucking disgusting,” I gripe, scowling.

“You can say that again.” Aleksander has paused a short distance ahead and stares at something on the ground.

Kassandra’s breath hitches, and she quickly looks away, her thin body trembling.

I quicken my pace and stare down at the pile of bones.

“This doesn’t seem good,” I say, alert for any threats.

There are so many bones, I would guess that at least two dozen fae have died here.

But what killed them?

And does this monster have Treyton in its clutches?

I’m suddenly desperate to get Kassandra the fuck out of here, Spring Prince be damned.

I open my mouth to suggest exactly that when something captures my attention. Kassandra and Aleksander remain by the bones, but I walk stealthily towards the tree covered in webs.

At first, I think my eyes are deceiving me, but the closer I venture, the more positive I am that this isn’t just a hallucination or a trick of the light.

There appears to be a body tied to the tree. At least, there’s a distinct, fae-sized bulge beneath all of the webbing.

I reattach my ax to my back and then grab a dagger out of its sheath. Quickly, I begin to cut at the white strings, ripping them aside to unveil the fae beneath it.

He’s not breathing, but fortunately, he’s not Treyton. The unfamiliar fae has golden hair and tan skin, traits commonly found in the Summer Court. His sunken face makes me think he’s been held here for weeks, if not months.

“What the fuck did this to you?” I murmur in disgust.

Stepping away, I pivot on my heel, determined to get back to my mate, when a figure steps in front of my path. I immediately swing my dagger at the creature, but she captures my wrist with a cackle. Her blunt nails dig into my skin hard enough to make me bleed.

The megart-female hybrid grins sharply, her multiple eyes blinking up at me. “Immortal prince, I see you made it to Mitchia’s home.”

Her voice is a sibilant hiss, each syllable succinct and precise.

Her grip is unnaturally strong—stronger than any fae I’ve ever come into contact with.

Stronger than even me.

I bare my teeth and swing a blade at her with my free hand, but she captures that one as well.

“Naughty princes get punished.” She tsks her tongue in what sounds like mock disapproval.

Then she brings my wrist to her lips and slams her teeth into my flesh. Pain radiates from her bite, and my stomach swirls madly. Darkness paints my vision.

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