Page 10 of Prince of Ruin

That magic zaps between us, making him flinch, and I jerk away. “Good.” I stand. “Then I’ll hope to see your dead, mortal body at your funeral in, say, how long do humans typically live? Ninety years? Whatever. Have a good life.”

Spinning around, I stalk back into the crowd. My heart is beating like a drum in my chest. When Clavicle threw that punch, it must have triggered some deep-seated fear of him, because Iflinchedeven though I knew he had no powers, no fae strength to speak of.

I walk faster, humans parting to make way for me as I leave this overcrowded place. Every nerve in my body demands I go back to Clavicle, apologize, beg him to return with me. My heart tells me he’s changed, begs me to give him one more chance.

But I’ve been burned by Clavicle before, to the point that life didn’t seem worth living anymore. Not until Aden showed up in my life and rescued me from complete self-destruction. No, I can’t afford to buy Clavicle’s clueless act for a second. Him making that pinky promise instead of fighting back just now was foolish, but hey, if he wants to risk losing an appendage just to prove something to me, have at it.

It’ll be a hell of a lot easier to take him down when I come face to face with him in the faerierealms again.

Clav

I clutch my sore arm to my chest while I watch the psycho stalk off, the crowd parting for him, as if afraid they’ll be next on his hit-list. With one hand on my sore arm, I clumsily stand, motioning to onlookers that I’m fine. My skin tingles all over, my pinky feels like it got shocked after that pinky swear, and a bead of sweat rolls down my spine. I wipe the tears from my face, sniffing back the ones that threaten to emerge.

Boys don’t cry. Boys don’t cry. Boys don’t cry.

Instead, I summon that fury deep within my bones. Because anger is better than tears. I’m generally an even-tempered dude. Hell, I’m a fuckingdelight. I can keep calm and positive in most situations. Let things slide. In fact, I’m considered a sunshine in most circles. After being bullied in middle school, I learned that laughing at myself was the only way to get the assholes off my back.

But the way that dick made me feel just now… when he called me a loser and called me bastard-born…it triggered all those memories from middle school and all I saw was red. Then he brought my step-dad, Rick, into it, and I went from zero to ten in a half-second and got this strange, dangerous urge to sink a dagger into their chest. Which is weird, because I don’t evenowna dagger.

It almost felt like some primitive being was awakened within me in the presence of that prick. And when they brought up the demons and my dad and…andAden…I couldn’t control it anymore. My rage took over and I threw a punch, and next thing I know, I’m on my knees with blinding pain lashing through my arm making a fuckingpinky promisejust so I could escape.

I should go home. Warn dad. Call the police. But all I can think of is—I have to see Aden all the more now.

Not that I want to get involved in that toxic relationship, but, well, I actually do. I want to fucking ruin whatever that asshole has with a sweet boy like Aden. And I need to see if Aden is actually as sweet as he pretended to be at the library, or if he’s in on this prank, too. The thought is almost too painful to consider, but I mean, I barely know the guy. He approachedmein the library. Could have been stalking me this whole time for all I know.

I’m going to settle this bullshit once and for all.

In order to really lure Aden in, I decide to add another prop to my non-existence cosplay. I slip into the nearest tent and scan the costumes, looking for something unique and…me. But my god. These costumes are ridiculously expensive. Do I really want to dish out my hard-earned money just to convince some stranger I’m into them?

I scan the table at the many cosplay artifacts lined up—and one immediately catches my eye: a silver crown that looks like several small antlers had been welded together. That person claiming to be Aden’s boyfriend was wearing some massive antlers that looked real. These ones don’t look real, but damn, they glimmer like silver and are fancy enough to catch anyone’s eye. Preferably Aden’s.

I pick up the headdress and study it. The metal is heavy in my hand, but it’s durable. Placing it on my head, I study myself in the mirror. The antlers are less than half as tall as the antlers the person who confronted me was wearing, and I smirk as I consider how much I would piss them off if they caught me wearing this around their boyfriend.

I mean, the crown still looks intimidating, the points reaching toward the sky like claws. The front of the crown pulls down in a V, the point reaching the bridge of my nose. It would look better if I didn’t haveto wear my black framed glasses, and obviously a little more muscle would do me some favors. But I don’t look half-bad. I tilt it sideways, just a hair, so I look more like a prince who doesn’t give a fuck.

“That crown was made for you.” The merchant at the table studies me as if he’s never seen anyone wearing his merchandise before.Of course you’d say that. You want my money.But I can’t help but feel a sense of power, while also desperately trying to ignore the tug deep in my stomach. This crown made of silver antlersdoeslook good one me.

Lifting the crown off my head, I look at the price. One-hundred and twenty-nine dollars.

“Fuck,” I mutter. Ren Faire shit isexpensive.I can’t exactly go around throwing money around when I just lost my job. But I really do love the crown. I’m not buying this just to impress Aden. I’m buying it because it’ssick. And also maybe because it’ll piss Aden’s partner off if they catch me wearing it. This might be the most irresponsible decision I could make on the same day after getting fired, but hey. YOLO.

Smirking, I pay for the crown and place it on my head.

“Behold!” The shop owner shouts, and to my utter embarrassment, all the eyes of the customers are on me. “Your new king!” The shop-owner declares dramatically. “King of the Stag Folk!”

Customers clap and laugh, and my face burns with embarrassment. I offer a smile and play along, waving at them before escaping the tent and stepping back outside before the shop-owner could make any more declarations.

The sun is just now sinking beyond the horizon, casting long shadows on the grass. The magician has left the stage now, and someone with shaggy blond hair carries a violin up to the mic.

Aden. Relief washes over me, but it’s quickly replaced with apprehension as I remember what the fucking stag-wizard prick said.They know about Abaddon,andthey’re dating Aden. Which means Aden must be in on the prank, too. And I need answers.

Aden is wearing black leather boots and a trench coat with silver buckles. A silver hoop hangs from one ear, making him look like a rugged buccaneer. Fuck he’shot.Tucking the violin under his chin, he begins playing a quick, upbeat tune. I am not prepared for the way the fiddle music crashes over me in a series of notes merging into each other, the way a raging river crashes over stones.

Holy shit. I would have never guessed he could play the fiddlethatwell. People immediately stop in their tracks to admire him and soak in the music, but he doesn’t notice. He’s in the moment, his eyes closed, his entire body moving to the rhythm as he drags the bow across the taut strings.

And I’m left mesmerized, hypnotized by his stunning performance. His music sounds like something straight out of a fantasy film. It reminds me of twisted forests and wild waves crashing onto ancient cliffs. Of dark curses and the skulls of my enemies. And I’m not sure, because it’s dark now that the sun has nearly set, but I swear I can see black wisps of smoke curling between his fingers as he plays.

He finishes, and applause erupts from the crowd, jolting me back to reality. His eyes crack open, as if he, too, is remembering where he is, and that brilliant smile breaks across his face. Taking a bow, he spins around, his coattails flaring out as he leaves the stage. It takes me a moment to be transported back to reality, but when I am, I push through the crowd in his direction.

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