Page 174 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

“It’s the Fae whore!”

The shout slams into me. I whip my head to the side. A soldier in a red scarf points his dagger in my direction.

“Shoot her!”

A bowstring snaps.

I yank the reins to the left and lean halfway off the saddle.

Thud.

The arrow lodges in the tree behind where my head had been.

Another shout—“Again!”

Shit!

I release the reins and throw myself out of the saddle. Pain explodes in my shoulder as I hit the ground. With a grunt, I push myself up and crawl to Moonlight’s backside. I slap her hindquarters, and she bolts into the trees.

Another arrow whizzes past, grazing my cheek. I duck and scramble into the forest, but stay close to the edge, not brave enough to dive into its dark depths without a Fae protector.

Arrows thud into bark all around me. My heart races.

They’re trying to kill me. Why are they trying to kill me?

Does it matter? my inner voice snaps. Run!

I don’t stop moving. I weave, crawl, sprint, changing up my pace and alternating my height to vary the archer’s target. The ground tears up my naked feet, but my magic coats my flesh, masking the worst of the pain.

Adrenaline pours into my veins. My vision tunnels until I only see the gnarled branches in front of me, and I only hear the sound of my own breathing.

I don’t know how much time passes before the arrows stop. Before I find myself staring at the back of the opulent tent. Rian’s small, dark tent sits to the side.

My chest heaves.

I did it. I made it. I lean forward on the balls of my feet, prepared to make a run for the tent when a hand clamps down on my arm.

“Gotcha!”

I scream as I’m yanked from the tree line.

My captor’s manic grin splits his face. “I’ve got her! I’ve got the whor⁠—”

Blood spatters my cheek. His words cut off in a wet gurgle as a dagger punches through his throat.

I stagger back as he collapses, and my rescuer comes into view.

For a moment, my heart stops beating. “Ferria?”

34

My twin sister stands behind the fallen man. She wears a pair of men’s breeches, her camisole tucked. A leather cord holds the trousers up. There are a few dirt and grass stains, but no blood. Her long red hair whips across her face as she stares down at the convulsing corpse.

What is she doing here?

“Ferria?” I step around my attacker and slowly reach out to take her hand. “Hey… Look at me.”

She drags her glassy eyes up. She’s in shock.