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“In our lands, men are human, not witches.” A vision of my father, healthy and strong, comes to mind, but it fades away, replaced by the images that haunt me. “Nothing anyone did made him better. Magic, herbs, tinctures, nothing healed him. Sometimes, illnesses just happen, and they’re beyond even our powers.”
He’s quiet for a minute, looking tired and sad. “I’m sorry to hear that. Were the two of you close?”
I answer without thinking. “We were. He was my best friend and the only one I could turn to in my life who…” I stop, not wanting to reveal too much. “He was the only one I could turn to,” I resolve.
He nods.
“He slowly deteriorated, losing his appetite, getting weaker by the day. Everyone in our coven tried to help. Our best healers did everything they could, but nothing worked. I was too young to even try to help. My job, though, was to make him smile.”
I move to the seat of King Talon’s bed and continue. “I would sing him songs I made up about the day I had. I’d change all the bad things that happened into good things because I didn’t want him to think I was suffering too. Even though I was.” Some days were harder than others to make up funny things in the place of the horror I dealt with when I’d make mistakes in lessons. “We loved the same kind of books, the fairy tales where everyone lived happily ever after, so I would read to him, and we’d both escape to a happier place.”
“You sound like a good, dutiful daughter. The kind a father is proud to have,” he tells me.
My eyes burn. Tell that to my mother.
“I like to think I am.” I choose not to mention how much my mother seems to hate my very existence or how she sold me to them as the price of peace.
My father would have never allowed this to happen.
“He died months after he first got sick. Watching him die was painful. The one thing I’ve learned from everything I’ve been through is that in life, if you don’t laugh, you cry. So I always try to laugh as much as I can.” I pause, remembering my dad’s smile. “My dad really liked my laugh. He’d perk up even when he was feeling his lowest.”
King Talon’s gaze holds mine, and he gently tells me, “Sometimes, it’s okay to cry too though.”
I sit quietly, absorbing his words, then I reach out and hold his hand. He squeezes my hand back and smiles at me. If only my mom was even a little like this man. How could I have turned out?
Our moment is interrupted by Prince Arlys clearing his throat at the door. I turn my head and see that Princes Rinan, Drogo and Arlys all stand in the doorway. My heart pounds against my ribcage, and I wonder how long they’ve been there and how much they heard.
It’ll be harder to be strong with them if they know all my weaknesses.
I can’t worry about that though, so I stand, extending one more glance in King Talon’s direction. “It was nice talking to you, King Talon.”
“It was nice talking to you, Princess Tara,” he says with a little smile, and I can’t help but notice that he has much more color to him as he eats more of the food on his tray.
I walk towards the door, brushing past the three men filling the frame. None of them make a move to get out of my way, so I awkwardly squeeze through, hoping to have enough time to shake off my sadness before the next problem arises.
EIGHTEEN
Tara
Howling fills my ears as I step outside. It’s coming from every direction, and I don’t know where to look. The whole pack of wolves surrounds at least a dozen enormous men. The wolves move in a circle, always with their teeth bared. Growls and howls fill the air. It’s deafening.
I can’t pull my eyes away from the scene in front of me. What the hell is going on?
This can’t be good.
Hoards of servants frantically rush past me, their eyes wide with fear, almost knocking me down to get back inside away from the fray. I stay outside, watching the commotion. The wolves’ coats glisten in the sunlight, and their coordinated movement is hypnotic. It’s a steady, writhing circle I can’t keep my eyes off of.
But the men in the middle are commanding and intimidating in their own way. They’re not reacting in the least bit to the snarling, snapping wolves that encircle them. Most men would be peeing their pants right now. But not them. Why? I’m intrigued and a little terrified by it all.
The men in the center of the circle are massive, towering over the wolves, their faces twisted into fierce grins as they face off against the snarling wolves. The ground trembles under the paws of so many wolves, and my skin prickles with unease as I watch this confrontation unfold.
They're going to go nuts and kill each other at any second. Aren’t they?
Should I be doing what the servants are doing and get my ass inside?
The biggest man in the group gazes out over the throng, and his eyes land on me. A huge, cocky grin makes its way across his face. And I’m drawn to his stunning hazel eyes as they seem to drink me in. His eyes run over me from head to foot, and then connect back with my gaze. There’s something in his expression that tells me he likes what he sees, and a strange feeling blossoms in my stomach. No one has ever looked at me like that, I’m sure.
But why? Why flirt with me right now? With a pack of angry wolves around him? Who is that… cocky?
