Page 95 of Bride of the Fae Prince

I chuckle softly, my awareness already slipping away.

A rich, warm voice floods around me, soft as a blanket and strong as a pair of arms holding me to a solid chest. Its low timbres are quiet, but I do not have to strain to hear them.

May you always find your way back home

Through darkened nights

On lonely roads

May you always find your way back to me

I will hold you safe and sound

My love, in my heart

For all eternity

Recognition hits. I push up on my elbows, my lips parting as the voice continues singing. Iknowthis voice. This is Ash. My fae husband. Confusion rolls through me, but beneath it is a steady certainty.

Ash is here with me. He hasn’t left me alone. And I think . . .

Helovesme.

Possibly more than anyone ever has.

That knowledge sends strength shooting through my limbs. It is the last piece of determination I need. I shove myself onto my knees, then get to my feet. Resolve hardens in my gut. I whirl, run back down the stairs, suddenly full of vitality.

I’m not afraid to look in that last place. No, I’ll confront it. And I’ll do it with Ash’s beautiful voice surrounding me, filling my soul. I run hard down several flights of stairs, turning down long hallways. Always taking the darkest, deeper path that leads lower, lower, to the belly of the castle.

Finally, I skitter to a halt before a large iron grate. Even from here, the stench reaches like tentacles toward me. That stench brings back memories—of being cold, alone, trapped in the dark. Memories of tears, of rocking against a cold stone wall. Of begging for Father, nothing but silence answering me.

Ash’s voice fades to silence, his song finished.

Part of me falters as that wretched silence fills my ears. Then I grit my teeth and take another step toward that grate.

Somehow, I know this world isn’t quite real, so I walk straight through the metal as if it’s nothing but a curtain of running water.

To the dungeon beyond.

I shiver, and my steps flag as the stink of rot redoubles. But I’m done cowering. I’m done letting fear keep me from doing the things I should have done long ago.

I march down through the narrow stone stairwell, cold slicing into my bare feet. Each step carries me deeper into the darknessthat once swallowed me whole. And with each step, a new voice fills my head. Memories—of Father.

“It’s for your own good. You need to understand how this world works, and your place in it. You were not born a princess so you can live a charmed existence of balls and fine foods. Your duty is to serve your people.”

“I will, I will, Father!”My own voice, high-pitched and desperate, floods me with all the things I felt in that moment. I had to convince him I would do anything he said. I had to show him I wouldn’t protest or fight him. Anything he wanted—anything for my people, I would do it.

“I know, but you must understand the reality of war, and what can happen to you and your people when peace is compromised. I know you don’t want this—I don’t want it any more than you. But I must teach you, or else I will have failed you as your father and your king.”

“I do understand!”Pleading echoes through my mind, ceaseless and frantic. I keep walking down those steps.

“You think you understand now, but you will forget when you are older and stronger willed, when you long to make your own decisions instead of following your duty. I do this so you won’t forget.”

“I promise I won’t forget!”Tears roll down my cheeks, reminiscent of the ones I shed when I was only eight years old. How that frantic desperation and pleading turned to fighting when he pushed me into that cell, my cries to screams when the door clanged shut, my hands reaching through the bars, trying to grab for the fading shadow of my father.

My father, who left me alone in a dank, cold cell for the longest, most miserable night of my life.

I stop before that cell. I can almost imagine a little girl curled up in the corner, shivering and crying as the sting of betrayal coursed through her blood.

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