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They motion to the little boy—who must be Fae or at least have a little Fae in him after his display of magic—who gave me the flower. He's crying as the other collector core holds him as he struggles before the prince. A woman, no doubt the boy's mother, is crying and on her knees at the prince’s feet, sobbing as she begs for mercy.
The prince’s eyes are a cold silver I can see even from this distance. His gaze is unfeeling as he looks from the mother to theboy and then to the collector core. He holds his hand out palm up toward the boy, closing his eyes like he’s mentally searching for something.
I can’t presume to know the extent of the prince's power beyond that of him being a shifter. And what in Aletha would he be looking for that would bring him all the way out here to the desolate village of Sparrow Hills?
His eyes snap open, and my blood runs cold at the sight of anger and malice in them as he looks at the collector core.
“You brought me out here forthis?” He doesn't need to raise his voice, his tone is lethal enough. “This boy has a mere drop of Fae magic in his blood and you think it’s worth my time?” He steps in front of the core who is holding the boy, looking down at him with a furious gaze. “The next time you summon me and you don’t have what I'mactuallylooking for, I will burn you alive.”
The collector core nods, as do the two others who stand behind him.
“Leave this place,” the prince commands, and adrenaline overtakes me.
He’s in the open, and now is the perfect time to strike.
My body shakes as I gather my power, pulling it from the dregs of my soul where I keep it locked up. One sharp bolt of energy, that’s all it’ll take. It’ll out me, and no doubt put the Collector on high alert, but if I can eliminate one of my targets now, it’ll be worth it.
I feel my power reach my fingertips and I take aim?—
The prince spins around, a thick layer of purple smoke clinging and swirling around his body until I can't see him at all.
I take a step closer, abandoning my cover from the tree to get a better look as that smoke gathers until I can barely even see the village anymore. The ground beneath my feet trembles and I feel a crack of magic slice through the air before I see some giant creature, half hidden by the smoke, take to the skies. I only get aglimpse of a barbed tail and dark, inky-purple scales before the rest of that smoke covers it and disappears toward the horizon.
The collector core look at each other, those black helmets and red armor glistening under the setting sun.
My heart pounds, and I try to mentally will them to leave. They haven’t let go of the boy, and the mother’s cries are getting louder as they discuss something I can’t hear.
I quietly move that direction, carefully and calculated to not draw attention to myself.
“Told you we shouldn't have summoned him,” one of the core says.
“You know what he's looking for,” the other fires back. “Excuse me if I want to get in his good graces so I don't end up becoming one of his beast-form meals.”
“Both of you shut up,” the third core says. He jerks on the boy, yanking him up by his shoulders to bring him to his eye level. “You caused us a lot of trouble, boy,” he says, shaking his head. “You embarrassed us in front of the prince.”
Excuse the fuck out of me? They're the ones who clearly messed up by summoning him. Why are they blaming the youngling?
“I didn’t mean to,” the boy says, his voice breaking my heart.
“Please,” the mother says as I continue to draw closer. “Please let him go. He doesn’t yet understand how to suppress his magic. It was an accident. If you need somebody to pay for this, it's me. It's me?—”
A core backhands her so hard she hits the ground with a loud thud.
“Mama!” the little boy screams, tears running down his cheeks as he struggles in the core’s grasp. He swings his little legs trying to get free, trying to get to his mother, little sparks of cerulean energy crackling at his fingertips but unable to makeconnection. He doesn't have that much power, and he probably doesn't even knowwhyhe has that power.
And they're punishing him for it. I should ignore it.
If they would justleave?—
One of those blue strings of energy zaps the core holding the boy, and he hisses as he throws him to the ground. The man shakes out his hand, hissing from the sting as the boy tries to scramble toward his mother.
The core kicks the boy so hard in the stomach he hurdles half a dozen feet the opposite direction.
All logical thought severs in my mind, and I lunge forward?—
Powerfully muscled arms incase me from behind, jerking me down.
I struggle against the restraint, looking over my shoulder to find Zev glaring down at me.
