Page 124 of Bride of the Fae Prince

He shoots up then, and begins prowling around the enclosed space as if it’s a cage, and him, a tiger. “He killed her. He killed her! Even though she’d done nothing wrong. From the moment she was given in marriage to him, she did everything to please him. He should have loved her. He should have cared for her. He should have cared forme. I’m his son! His very flesh and blood! But he loved neither of us, and when he saw how much I loved my mother, he destroyed her.”

His words strike a chord in me. And Iunderstand. I understand what it is to be betrayed by the father who should have been the protector. Who should have had the fiercest commitment to love. I cannot fix his pain or take it away.

I can weep, however. I can feel his pain, join him in it, bear it with him.

“Stella.” The name is ragged, a shredded piece of despair as he lifts destitute eyes to me. “In those dreams that I have of you, when you smile and laugh . . . They always end withyoudying. It’s you in that red dress and red mask. It’s your bloodthat is everywhere. I see it over and over again—every time I close my eyes. I’m helpless to stop it. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve tried to think of a way to spare you? From our first conversation, I’ve hated myself for dragging you into this. I thought losing you would be like losing the rest of my staff. It would hurt, but I’d pretend to not care. I never thought that marrying you would make me see what life could be like if I wasn’t caught in this trap. Thisnightmare. I was content before. Content with my games and my revenge.” His voice breaks again, and then he throws his arms to either side, and the words are ripped from him in a terrifying shout.

“I don’twantmy revenge anymore, Stella! I just wantyou.”

Chapter 43

The Prince

I stop.

My words ring in the air between us. I stare at Stella, at the way shock has sliced through the compassion and anguish on her face. Her flushed cheeks are wet with tears, tendrils of her beautiful hair framing her face and falling over the front of her rose-pink nightgown.

I don’t want my revenge anymore. I just want you.

That declaration levels the mountains of heartbreak in one thunderclap.

My vision fills with her. With Stella, Princess Isabelle Louise of Aursailles, my human wife. My mind goes back to the moment I entered our wedding chamber and removed her veil, when I saw her face and those soft doe eyes for the first time. I’d tried to suppress it then, but I’d known from that moment when our gazes met that everything was about to change. I knew she would ruin me, that she would be my destruction. My greatest weakness. This whole time, I’ve been fighting for shreds of control—because since my mother, I’ve not had anything to lose.

All these years, everything has come back to loss. Pain of past loss, fear of future loss.

What if life isn’t about fighting loss at every turn, but embracing love whenever you are privileged to encounter it?

I love Stella. Each time I look at her, she grows in beauty. With every word out of her mouth, my estimation of her virtue only increases. She’s lovelier in this simple nightgown than she was in last night’s extravagant ballgown.

Now that I’ve said the words, it’s almost ridiculous how hard this realization hits me—how ridiculous that it is hitting me only now, when I have known this truth our entire marriage.

There isnothingI want in this world but her.

Least of all my revenge.

At the same time . . .

My brow lowers. “You mean more to me than making the High King pay. You’vealwaysmeant more to me. But as long as he lives, you’re in danger.”

It’s as though saying those words brings my entire conflicted world back into its proper orbit. My shoulders sag, the tension flowing out of my body. Light and lightness fill me to the brim. I run both hands through my hair, and before I can stop it, alaughescapes me.

The crushing burden is gone.

I am taller. Weightless.

I turn fully toward Stella, who watches me carefully, her lips parted. An unstoppable grin bursts across my face. Her eyes widen, and color floods her cheeks as she swallows. Her tears have dried. My arms ache for her.

“I have to kill him,” I breathe, still grinning like a fool.

Stella blinks thrice at me.

“If I kill him after we get him off the throne,” I continue, realizing I haven’t explained myself and sudden change ofdemeanor to her, “you can live. With me. I won’t have to give you up. I can put our child on the throne.”

Her brows come together in a skeptical knot. It’s so adorable, I cannot help my laughter. Then I can bear the distance between us no longer and rush across the room, grabbing her by the shoulders so suddenly her mouth opens.

“You don’t understand, do you?” I say, beaming down at her. “Everything is the same. But everything isso different. What I’m trying to accomplish is the same. The High King needs to be off that throne. Once and for all. But I’m not doing it to avenge my mother. It’s what you said yesterday—you were wrong, but you were so right! You said the difference between me and my father is that he was fightingagainstand I was fightingfor. Except I haven’t been. I’ve been fighting against him as hard as he’s been fighting against me. But I understand now.”

That wasn’t very coherent. She’s still staring at me as though I’ve sprouted a few new heads. I suck on my teeth, trying to find the right words. “What I’m trying to say is that I am going to fight for you, Stella. I will fight for you with everything I have. I will play dirty if I must. Faradir has reigned long enough. As long as he lives, he is a threat to you. So I will kill him.”

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