Page 22 of A Trial of Fate

“Daxton Aegaeon, High Prince of Silver Meadows,” he said plainly, almost like it was an extension of who he was and what he stood for in this life.

“Okay, that’s longer and way more complicated than Silver Shadow.”

His eyes flashed open to meet mine, and I swore I was about to receive the retribution for shooting him with my iron arrow. “Daxton is fine,” he murmured. “And what pray tell do others call you, Spitfire?”

“Skylar Cathal of the Solace Shifter Pack.” I couldn’t help but flash him a wide grin that I knew he would shrug off. “Skylar for short, though. Nice to meet you, Daxton.”

“I believe our first meeting was notnice. You almost killed me.” Disdain laced his deep, vibrating voice, but I was determined not to be intimidated by him. I had enough of that happening to me when I was younger, and I thankfully learned how to stand up for myself.

“I saidniceto meet you. Not… thefirsttime,” I countered.

A toothless half-grin curved at the side of his trimmed bearded chin, revealing the faint hint of a dimple on his cheek. “Well played,Skylar.” He spoke my name for the first time, and thankfully, with less venom in his tone. Letting theSroll on his tongue for a moment longer than necessary.

“I promise to leave you unharmed after this rendezvous,” I said with reassurance.

There it was again—the deep, muffled chuckle that rumbled under the fingers I braced on his chest. Was I somehow amusing to this high prince? In the few moments of knowing him, he was quiet, deathly terrifying one moment and then bantering with me the next. He was a male that spoke more with his actions than with his words. His brother, on the other hand, was definitely the outspoken charmer of the two.

I untied the bandage on Daxton’s shoulder and gently placed my palms on either side of the wound. I could feel his heart thumping beneath my hands—steady and strong like a warrior marching on a battlefield. Closing my eyes, I fell into a trance with the rhythm of his strength to help me concentrate. Drawing from the well of power that stirred in me, I released the healing magic that flowed out through my palms and into his skin. My hands emitted a warm golden glow against my fair skin that transferred my energy, mending what was broken and reforming what needed to be rebuilt. It took seconds for my magic to heal him, and I could feel his strength return as the skin stitched together. Regardless of the iron’s damage, my healing magic somehow surpassed that barrier. Always had.

“There,” I said proudly. “You should feel good as new now.” I removed my hands from his shoulder and took a step back so he could examine my handiwork.

“I’m genuinely impressed,” Daxton said as he moved about the room, circling his arm to test his mobility. “And that does not happenoften.”

“Is that yet another compliment from you tonight?” I smirked, dramatically planting my hand to my chest and sighing. “I’m genuinely touched.”

“Don’t push your luck,Spitfire,” Daxton added, flashing a hint of amusement in his deep gray eyes.

“And, by the way, I… am Castor Aegaeon,” the silver-haired male added from the mantle, watching his brother carefully. “The second son… but still titled as a prince of Silver Meadows. Dax usually has better manners than this and should have introduced me, so please don’t judge our kind by his lack of proper etiquette.”

Daxton rolled his eyes, continuing to assess the mobility of his shoulder. He was a few inches taller than his brother, with a wider frame that supported a thick, sculpted, muscular physique. I was tall for a female, my final growth spurt raising me to just under six feet tall, but Daxton still had a full head over me. He moved like a warrior, graceful yet powerful, and for the life of me, I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off him. I didn’t think the human records of the wars he fought in did him any justice. His obvious strength combined with the waves of power I felt emanating from him were unlike anything I had ever experienced.

“Now that I’ve healed your wound… there’s something I need from you.” That seemed to get his attention. Daxton whipped his head around and arched his eyebrows with a questioning look. His brother, Castor, gave a smug yet entertained expression.

“Why are you here? How did you venture past the veil and leave the Inner Kingdom?”

Castor rested an elbow on the mantel near the fire and leaned in toward Daxton. He seemed to be on the verge of answering me but stopped to check in and assess his brother’s opinion.

“We should just tell her, Dax. I mean, what are the chances the queen will choose her? They will all find out sooner or later why we are here if they don’t suspect already.”

Daxton stared at the roaring fire and placed his hands on the mantel, bracing his weight onto his arms.

“Please,” I asked again, “is it because of the wilt?”

“The wilt?” Castor questioned.

Daxton tilted his head toward his brother. “That is what they call the decay of the land.” Castor nodded, but neither of them said anything more, nor did it look like they were going to.

I didn’t like how this conversation was going, and I intended to do something about it. “I won’t leave until you give me some answers.If this involves my pack, I deserve to know. We all deserve to know.”

“This should come from your elders and your alpha,” Daxton said. “It’s not our place to tell you.”

The high prince’s fingers flexed against the brick as a cold chill entered the room, freezing my breath as it exited my lungs. It was not yet the winter season, and the cold southern winds were not due for another few months. I had no idea where this icy breeze was coming from or how. With a raging fire burning, I could see my breath laced with frost.

“Well, I guess I’m here all night then.” I plopped myself down onto the chair by the warmth of the fire and casually laced my hands behind my head. “I won’t leave until I get my answers.” Making myself comfortable in uncomfortable situations was something I strived to achieve.

I was about to say something when the two males suddenly went stiff. A grim look of pain etched into their expressions as they tensed in discomfort. I watched Daxton’s fingers practically dig into the brick, ice forming at his hands and cascading through the top of the mantel.

Had he just created a sheet of ice with his bare hands? He had ice magic?

---