Page 11 of Blood of the Ruthless

Forrest

I’m panting and rage flows through my blood as Zane holds me back. A short knock sounds at the door, and then it opens. Sulien’s servants wheel in breakfast, seemingly unaware of the tension in the room between the naked, or mostly naked, tired men. It creates a strange situation. It isn’t that I’m above fighting in front of servants, but I’m hesitant to feed the rumors about the wild Fall Fae.

“Can you control yourself?” Zane asks softly, gaze flickering to the servant.

I hate that I suspect these men see me the way I see my father, and that they’re completely wrong about me. But more than anything, I hate that right now I want to give into that dark and uncontrollable side of myself and just beat the shit out of the pretty Prince Sulien.

It takes everything in me to stand a little taller. To take a deep breath. But, it’s enough to calm me, if only by a little. Enough that I think I can look at Prince Sulien without wanting to break his bones.

My teeth grind together, and I manage, “I can if he can.”

“Always,” Sulien says, the fucker confident and smooth as always. Then, he goes and slips into a pair of pants, which is helpful, I guess. If I have to fight him again, I’d prefer not having to worry about his balls slapping against me.

After a minute, Zane lowers his hands from me slowly, as if unsure of my word.Fuck him!My word as prince of the Fall Fae should be enough for him. Years, god damnyearswith these men, and they still see me as nothing but the enemy.

It’s frustrating.

Zane takes a step away from me. “A temporary peace then?”

“As long as he starts talking,” I grumble.

Sulien sends the servants away, and he and the rest of the men gather at the table in Sulien’s room. I stand where we fought, clenching my fists so hard my palms hurt. That asshole Sulien needs to explain himself.What did he do to her? Why would he think she ran away?

“You going to start talking?”

Zane sighs. “Speaking over a meal could help.”

“Or we could wait to talk until the testosterone goes down a few notches,” Cobar mumbles.

I glare.

There’s a light knocking at the door, and all of us turn to the sound once more, half expecting a servant to return with some forgotten butter. To my surprise, Lord Watcher Oakfall stands in the doorway, almost blending in with Sulien’s massive oak door. He is one of the most ancient fae from the House of Memories, so old that, like the fae of legend, he once transformed into a tree and slept for many years. Now, he appears almost in tree-form. His body is made up of intricate branches that twist and turn. Branches sprout from his head as well, and his shoulders and chest are partially concealed by green leaves.

“Lord Oakfall,” Prince Sulien bows. “It’s a great honor.”

We all bow in turn, and he does right back. Technically, we’re his superiors, but there are many fae who are ancient and powerful. Fae that should never be insulted. Lord Oakfall is among them.

“When word was spread about your missing bride, I came to help in the search,” he says, and his voice is like the rustling of leaves on a windy night.

“We’re appreciative of your time and effort,” Frost says, his voice filled with awe.

I can’t tell if the seriousness on Lord Oakfall’s face is because of the situation, or because his wooden face can’t change, but his presence changes the energy in the room. “I came to update you on the search.”

Sulien and the other princes come to the door, waiting for Lord Oakfall to speak. Tension singing through us for a completely different reason now.Surely, a man like Lord Oakfall will have found something, right?A man who contains more memories than any other fae should be able to search them and find something that can help us now.

I swallow hard, waiting.

“Word has been sent out to the other three courts and all of the houses, as well as, a request for help in our search. Suffice it to say, everyone in the realm is behind us. Their letters of support for Lady Cassia have been many. Although, we haven’t heard back from the House of Death.” Lord Oakfall’s solemn expression remains in place. “Not that we entirely expected to.”

The House of Death holds the most powerful fae in existence. It’s said they do not keep a fae child unless they’re powerful, which means their numbers are few. However, their powers and personalities are unsettling to the other houses and courts, and they don’t like our company, so they tend to stick to themselves except for rare occasions. Their youth come once in their early days to our solstices, and that’s only because of their desire to find mates. Not hearing from them was expected, even if a little disappointing.

“And what have we learned?” Cobar asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“The House of War has no information, but they have promised vengeance on whoever has taken her. They have sworn a thousand of their finest warriors to die for the lady’s name.”

War and death. Only to be expected of the House of War. If only they had information, too.

“The House of Wealth has paid for the finest of spies, but has learned nothing yet. As they wait for answers, they are having the finest gold and gems to be crafted for the lady into jewelry and given to Lady Cassia on her return.”

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