Page 150 of Fated to be Enemies

We passed through a few villages with hundreds of cottages, vines covering the houses as if the wood was alive. Fae mingled and went about their business wearing loose-fitting, comfortable-looking gowns, leather vests, and peasant-like shirts and pants. I’d never thought the day would come when I would covet a loose, flowy skirt, yet here we were. It would be better than tight leather or these gowns that made breathing hard.

As we passed another bustling village, I saw what looked like a natural arena connected to a majestic stone building. At the edge of the village, the tree leaves began to change from various greens to gold, orange, and red.

Signs of fall.

When the front of the stone building came into view, I gasped. Hundreds, if not thousands, of fae were lined up on the stony ground in front of the towering three-story building, which was bigger than any shopping mall I’d ever seen.

“I told her you should’ve arrived first,” Maeve muttered, tensing in a way I’d never seen before. “They saw other competitors arrive, noted you weren’t here yet, and now more people have had time to gather for your arrival.”

“They can’t possibly be here for me.” I shook my head. There had to be another explanation.

As our carriage approached, fae of all different complexions and hair colors converged, blocking the road. Soon, the unicorns stopped.

“Frozen summer,” Maeve growled. “They can’t get the carriage any farther. We’ll have to walk from here.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Once they realized I wasn’t the person they were hoping for, they’d surely go away.

Drawing both swords, Maeve glanced at me. “Stay close behind me. Do not get separated from me.”

“Sounds easy enough.” I smiled reassuringly.

Maeve stepped out first, and the crowd went silent.

See.

Disappointment.

More calmly, I followed suit.

Then chaos erupted.

Chapter Nine

As soon as I stepped from the carriage, a woman with long auburn hair gasped, “There she is! It’s Princess Alina!”

I froze, and every gaze homed in on me.

Maeve glanced over her shoulder, her jaw clenched. Her normal composure was gone, and in its place was concern. Feeding into my panic.

My knees locked as memories of the times I and several other foster kids had been locked in a dark attic flashed through my mind.

The world around me blurred, mixing past and present, and the sounds warbled as if I’d gone underwater.

“Alina,” Maeve rasped, her familiar voice ripping me back to the present. “You need to move.”

Right.

Flee.

I needed to get the fuck out of here and go home. Fuck the fae and all this magic shit. I needed to be back at the gym and smack a punching bag in my black workout clothes.

The crowd pressed in, blocking my way back to the carriage. Hands touched my back, shoulders, and arms, tugging me in so many directions that I didn’t know how I was still standing in these wobbly heels.

My mind shut down, and my vision blurred.

Maeve cursed and began using the broadside of her sword to shove people away. She then clutched my hand and tugged me forward.

Bodies circled us, and my arms were pinched and yanked. My chest tightened, and terror clawed into me. More memories filtered in of being locked in that dark attic, unable to help the younger kids, breathing that stale, stagnant air.

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