Page 30 of Fae Trials

Prince Rory wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me in place. His lips grazed the shell of my ear and made me gasp. “I believe fate brought us together.”

“But I don’t want a fated mate,” I whispered.

“Neither do I.” The hand around my waist drifted to my belly, making arousal swirl between my legs. “But you’re going to knock Gala out of the trial.”

Being in his arms was like falling into a patch of moonflowers, one of the most dangerous and seductive plants on the Isle of Fae. They appeared on the morning after a blue moon, blowing out a mist that carried a sweet scent that lured humans to lie beside them, and the flowers only disappeared when they had claimed a victim. Everyone knew to hold handkerchiefs over their noses to avoid being caught by their allure or risk falling asleep for a hundred years.

Prince Rory’s hot breath warmed my ear and made the pulse between my legs pound in time with my frantic heart. Every remaining human instinct screamed at me to break out of his grasp, to run to the safety of the building and clutch a horseshoe to my chest. But his touch, his scent, his very presence held me in his thrall.

My eyelids fluttered closed, and I drifted into the comfort of his embrace. A tiny voice in the back of my mind—likely Sicily’s—screamed at me to take charge of my senses and fight. With the last remnants of my willpower, I forced my eyes open.

A few of the passing students paused to gape. Prince Rory hissed at them, and they hurried into the remedial building like frightened jack-rabbits.

The brief distraction cleared the fog from my brain. I tried pulling away, but he continued holding me around the middle. “How am I going to defeat her with no magic?”

“Surely a half-blood resourceful enough to infiltrate the ranks of the Fated can think of something?” He traced the glowing edges of my wings with his fingertips.

A jolt of arousal spread between my legs, it was so intense, I stiffened and cried out, “What?”

Stepping back, Prince Rory released my waist, depriving me of his touch and body heat. I turned around, examining his features. The assessing look that flickered through his eyes told me he had achieved his goal of getting me so turned on that I would agree to anything he said for more of his touch.

Annoyance flickered across my skin, and I tightened my features into a scowl. I’d dealt with faeries more devious than this pathetic prince, and he wasn’t fooling anyone into thinking he and I had an irresistible connection.

The fake lust in his eyes faded, turning them hard and assessing. “Gala said someone conveniently left you where the peacekeepers could deliver you to Gladiolus.”

My brows drew together. Did he think I was working some kind of scam? “But that doesn’t mean—”

“She was right about one thing.” He flicked his gaze at my fluttering wings. “You used dark magic to cheat your way into becoming a fated mate. It still lingers on your skin. Nothing about you says you’re the average half-blood cast-off.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook off thoughts of me being a trojan horse sent to harm the royals. “What are you talking about?”

“Here’s the deal.” He crossed the space between us and placed his large hands on my shoulders. “Knock Gala out of the trial, and I won’t tell my father you performed an illegal ritual to alter fate.”

Was there any point in uttering a denial? Anything I said would make me sound like a guilty person pleading innocence, and Prince Rory’s penetrating glare said he was serious enough about getting me executed if I didn’t go along with his plan.

I snatched my gaze away from his, trying to get my thoughts straight. After only a few minutes of conversation with Prince Rory, I couldn’t help but think the fates had placed him with Lady Gala for a reason.

He massaged my shoulders, his thick fingers melting me into a reluctant puddle of goo. “Do we have a bargain?”

I stared down at the stone paving slabs. Bargains with the fae were notorious for backfiring, and I could already see how this one would blow up in my face. Even if I succeeded in murdering Lady Gala during the trial, nothing was stopping him from goading the other girls into killing me so he would achieve his wish of having no fated mates at all.

Prince Rory placed a hand under my chin and tilted my head up to meet his gaze. “Answer me.”

“I can’t—”

“Choose.” He bared his teeth, but his smile wasn’t pleasant. “Certain beheading when I tell my father you’ve broken the most sacred facets of faerie lore, or a fair chance of surviving this trial and ridding yourself of an enemy.”

My throat dried. When he put things so plainly, there was only one option. “I want some guarantees.”

He snorted. “I guarantee that I will have you executed for dark magic if you don’t agree to rid me of Gala Nevermore.”

My shoulders drooped. There was no getting around this bastard. “If I knock her out of the trial, what then?”

He shrugged. “It’s as I said.”

“You won’t have me executed?” I asked.

“Exactly.”