Page 46 of Bride of the Fae Prince

“Not the ears, not the ears!” he hisses quickly, flinching. It’s the only genuine reaction I’ve seen from him since we left the carriage back in my world. I wind up with my arms around his neck. Probably not the most dignified position for the Fae Prince’s bride, but at this point, I care more about not falling.

He clearly wants to make a spectacle of me. My eyes widen as I take in how high I am, how far I can see across the masses, and how hundreds upon hundreds of eyes are fixed on me.

Fainting would be a welcome respite.

Come on, Stella. Faint! Do it!

I remain stupidly conscious.

“Introducing Princess Stella, my beautiful human bride!” calls Ash to the crowd.

A cheer goes up, echoing my name back to me. When I glance down, my hands are sheet-white.

“Smile, wife,” says Ash.

I muster a distant cousin of a smile. There’s no missing the glowers on the guards’ faces, on many other faes’. One face in particular snags my interest like a fly landing on a spider’s web.

A woman more beautiful than any I’ve seen before, with dark curls piled to a great height above her head, stares at me with piercing golden eyes. That gaze sweeps me up and down, her lip curling in disgust. It’s as though she sees past Ash’s glamours, past every protection I wrap myself in, straight to every inadequacy and insecurity.

I want to curl away from her scrutiny.

Ash bends and sets me on my own two feet, but before I have time to collect myself, a flute sings out, and his hand slides around my waist. He lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers, “Dance with me, my darling.”

I want to beg him to slow down, to give me space to breathe and adjust. By now, I should know that is a foolish hope. I comply, and when I discover this dance isn’t even a dance Iknow, I shuffle my feet back and forth and hope my long dress hides the fumbling steps.

The dance picks up speed, and soon I’m nearly tripping over my hem, and almost skipping to keep up. When the music surges, he lets go of my hand, catches me around the waist, and lifts me straight off my feet. I give a quiet little scream, but the music and the sound of fae dancing, laughing, and fighting around us drown the noise.

That is when a knife comes out of nowhere, and I barely see the glint of it before it slices straight for my side. Ash twirls me out of the way in a flash, then dips me. I cling to his arms, my eyes wide as he pauses, our noses nearly touching.

“Someone just tried to kill me,” I gasp.

That dark, sardonic look twists his mouth. Cunning sparks in his eyes. I hardly recognize him. “Survive the wedding feast—great fun, really.” He winks, and I gasp when he ducks to press a kiss to the hollow of my throat.

Then he pulls me back to my feet. I look to the side, just in time to watch a blade from someone—not one of the guard’s—slice straight through the fae’s neck who tried to kill me.

I’m going to be sick. All down the front of our wedding raiment.

“How much longer?” I gasp, stumbling after Ash’s steps, trying to keep up with the dance.

Something in that mask-like face slips. Softens—just slightly. His eyebrow twitches, and he looks away from me. I’m not sure what that means. Then he pulls me so close I’m pressed to his chest. “Not much longer. You’re doing beautifully.”

That is all the encouragement I need to sink into myself, to block out the rest of the world. In the silence left behind in my mind, I hear that voice from the forest again.

Fly away little bird, before his jaws snap your wings.

Chapter 20

The Prince

When we’ve stayed longenough at the revelry, I guide Stella through the rowdy crowd, grinning and laughing at the jokes tossed at us that are at best questionable, and at worse, outright ribald.

Stella says nothing.

She doesn’t even cling to me like she did earlier. She merely follows, and there’s a vacancy about her expression that I’ve never seen before. I want to block her out so I do not lose focus or face, so I can completely immerse myself in this role.

Try as hard as I might, I can’t help but be anxious at that expression on her face. Fear, frustration, anger—all of that I can deal with. But she acts like she isn’t even here. Like she’s somewhere else.

I need to get her somewhere safe before I lose her entirely.

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