Page 61 of Prince of Ruin

I have always had a strange fascination with Minotaurs, and having one stand before me now…I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Do you sleep in a normal bed, or do you prefer a barn full of hay for your quarters?”

Wide eyes turn to me for my rude and intrusive question directed at a gods-damnedgeneral, and I can feel heat crawling up my throat, pooling in my cheeks, but a low laugh rumbles out of the Minotaur.

“I think I like you, Clavicle,” Kunak says in that deep, blood-warming voice. “You get straight to the point.”

A smile tugs on Hemlock’s full lips as he studies me. “Good start so far.”

I don’t think any of them know that I’m genuinely curious.

“Shiloh,” Aden continues with the introductions, dipping his chin toward a slender woman with light blue, iridescent scaly skin and short white hair that almost appears to be glowing. She wears a sheer, sea-foam gown that does nothing to hide her supple breasts.

“We Aqua Folk prefer grottos to beds,” she says with a sly smile. Her voice is unearthly, musical, and light. “In case you were wondering.” She plucks a live fish from the bowl before her and drops it down her throat—and I shudder at how each of her teeth ends in sharp points.

“And that’s Aaliyah.” Aden gestures toward the last faerie who steps out of the seam—a muscular woman with dark brown skin, long dreadlocks, and—are those bear’s legs? They’re thick as tree-trunks and covered in fur, with dark talons peeking from where her toes should be.

“What did I miss?” she drawls, offering a big grin that reveals bear-like canines. I shiver as she jerks out the last remaining empty seat—right beside me, and hunkers down. My back tenses as the smell of forests and rain infiltrate the air around us.

“Clavicle was just inquiring about our preferred sleeping arrangements,” Hemlock says, tilting his head, one shaped brow raised and a mocking grin onhis face. “Perhaps so he would know where to find us when he wants to kill us in our sleep.”

My face heats up, no doubt turning the same shade as my bubble-gum hair.

“Ah,” the bear-woman, Aaliyah, says, looking down at me with a feral grin. “Well, in my current form, I enjoy the plush beds most fae indulge in. But during the month of the Bear Moon, I much prefer the caves deep in the Lunar Empire mountains to fae beds.”

The Bear Moon. “Are you, like, a werewolf?”

She growls gently, sharp fangs bared. “Were-bear. Our kind are much more civilized than those dogs who spend most of their time fucking and pissing on every landmark like a bunch of hormonal preteens.”

A snort erupts from Ash. “And that’s why we love you, Aaliyah. All dignity and grace.”

Prince Hemlock shoots a ball of fire into the dying hearth, igniting a new flame. My breath is caught in my lungs at the casual display of life-threatening magic, but I somehow keep my composure, despite every nerve in my body telling me to run. I mean, I’ve already been fucked by a bat-king, been chased by a dog-sized tarantula, been imprisonedandfucked by a bone fae, so how much worse could this get? The sweat prickling at my spine tells me it could be a lot worse.

I nervously shove my glasses up the bridge of my nose, my foot tapping anxiously on the marble floor. “So many…creatures.”

Aden takes my hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Think of every mythological creature we’ve ever learned about in the human realms. Most of them, if not all, are real, all from different realms in the universe, many of whom live in this world.”

I shudder, but say, “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you all.” I hate how timid my voice sounds, even to my own ears. “I’m…I prefer to go by Clav.”

Hemlock snorts, then leans back in his chair, hooking his ankle over one knee. “What’s with the pink hair,Clav?”

I reach up and run my fingers through my hair. I must look ridiculously fruity among these warriors. “I…Um….”

“I like it,” Shiloh, the slender woman with blue scaly skin and short white hair says. Her voice is silky and light and cultured, and even from here, I can smell the salt-sea air that seems to radiate off her body in waves. “Bright colors suit you, Clav.”

“You let him come with no shackles? No copper collar to negate his magic?” Wolfsbane cuts in with a deep, authoritative voice, inky black eyes assessing me in a way that makes me want to disappear.

“He’s not dangerous in his human form, Wolfsbane,” Tarsus says quietly, and they look pointedly at Wolfsbane’s hands. “He’s certainly less threatening than you are with your Shadow Magic.”

“Enough,” Hemlock says shortly, the snap in his voice making me flinch. “We’re not getting intothisagain.” He glares at Tarsus, and gold flakes, like embers, seem to emanate from his dark eyes. “Wolfsbane made their choice, and thank the gods they made the right choice, or my brother would be ruling all of us right now.”

“If it weren’t for Wolfsbane’s Shadow,” Aden adds, “we would have lost that battle last week.”

“Don’t slight yourself, Aden,” Wolfsbane says, and somehow, I can read the fondness in those star-flecked black eyes of theirs. “You were as much a part of taking down Baneberry’s armies with your own fiddle and magic. We all know I couldn’t have done it without you.”

There they go about some battle again. I cling to every tidbit they offer, trying to put the pieces together.

Wolf pins me with those black eyes that seem to absorb the light like the night sky. “Welcome home, Clav. Let us speak to one another as equal sovereigns, as the friends we once were, and not the enemies we could become, hm?”

Sovereigns. That’s what I am here—a wicked king. But I have to prove to them that I’m not wicked. I can’t tell them I don’t remember anything, they would laugh in my face. Based on Ash’s greeting earlier, I’m under the impression thatnobodyhere trusts me, and in order to earn it, I will have to be as easy going and compliant as possible. I have to show them they can trust me.

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