Page 48 of Fae Games

The wind blew my hair into my face as Prince Caulden flew around the castle. I gazed out into the green landscape of mountaintops that stretched to Snaefell Palace, enjoying the swish his wings made with each beat.

The white clouds overhead dissolved into swirls of mist that curled around the castle’s spired rooftops and seeped into its white walls, making it look like a mirage. I gripped Prince Caulden’s muscled shoulder, making sure that this wasn’t a dream.

“Are you hungry?” he murmured into my hair.

“My stomach is still unsettled from the stress of the contest.” I tilted my head up and gazed at the side of his handsome face, marveling at features that could have been chiseled by Michelangelo out of Alabaster.

“The pixies can bring up a late breakfast, and we’ll see if there’s anything you’d like,” he replied.

“Thanks.” I slid my hand down from his shoulder, over the contours of his muscular bicep. “Where’s your suite?”

“In the royal tower.” Raising his head, he sliced his wings through the mist, taking us close to the high tower where I had first met the headmistress. “We each occupy a floor, so no-one will disturb us.”

The last time I’d been flown out of the castle, Pokeweed had carried me, and he had traveled clockwise. Prince Caulden took the opposite direction, and the towers on this side of the castle seemed to sprout out from the side of larger towers. Prince Caulden ascended toward a square structure at the far end of the castle that stretched several stories above the main building.

I tilted my head up, noting the parapets at the top in place of a roof, and wondered if the Kings Guards stood beyond the defensive walls.

“This is my floor.” Three huge, arched windows appeared from the tower’s wall, and Prince Caulden glided toward the one in the middle. “Don’t mind the wards.”

Ward? A fist of alarm squeezed my heart, and my grip tightened on his bicep. Clenching my teeth, I held my breath and waited for the pins-and-needles attack from when I’d first entered the academy with Gladiolus, but only a slight tingle brushed against my skin, then everything went cold.

“Here we are.” Prince Caulden set me on my feet.

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was a vast room with an archway on one wall, which led to a grand bed large enough to fit four people. Pale blue fabric covered its surface, which was embroidered with white shards that resembled ice. Above it hung a white canopy with pale blue drapes that swooped toward the wall.

I sucked in a sharp breath and stepped away from Prince Caulden. This suite was better than any of the homes I’d seen in Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Its semi-translucent walls glittered from the diffused light of a chandelier of icicles that looked more like a sculpture.

Prince Caulden took my hand and guided me to a sofa larger than my bed, upholstered in white damask fabric that I guessed was velvet and silk. I tried not to gape, but the sight of low tables made of crystal, a polar bearskin rug large enough to fit my entire house was more than I could handle.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked.

“Yes,” I rasped, but my throat wasn’t dry because of thirst.

I had known that they were princes. The memory of that morning at Saltbay port was still fresh in my mind. But it was one thing to see someone from within a crowd and another to have a tryst with them in the back of a wagon. But stepping into Prince Caulden’s private quarters gave me a whole different level of understanding of what it meant to be royal.

This wasn’t any ordinary guy my age. He had access to more wealth and magic than any of the people I envied on my DVDs.

After placing a peck on my lips, he walked to the end of the room to a semi-circular bar. Steam billowed from the ice covering its surface, and behind the bar was another block of ice that supported two-dozen bottles. Even from this distance, I recognized the gold and cream covering of the Cristal brand from old hip-hop videos.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered to myself. “No wonder those bitches are murdering each other for a chance with the princes.”

“What’s that?” Prince Caulden asked from behind the ice bar. He glanced at the selection of drinks and picked up a green bottle.

“It’s just a reflection on everything that’s happened.” I lowered myself into a seat and sank into cushions that felt like clouds.

He clicked his fingers, and two pixies flew in from another archway behind the bar. “Breakfast for two.”

With a nod, they flew out, and the Prince uncorked a green bottle with a pop and poured its contents into two flutes. “I hope recent events haven’t discouraged you from mating with Rory and me.”

Lowering my gaze to my gossamer-covered lap, I bit down on my lip. The answer was complicated. Pokeweed’s suggestion to mate with all four brothers would give me everything I wanted: the wishbone that could save the people I loved, at least two gorgeous and attentive mates, and I would save the crown from Lady Gala’s malevolence.

I blew out a long sigh. But was it worth risking my life? Now, Helen’s words about my being destined for greatness or tragedy made complete sense. If I won this gamble, I could make life better for the whole island, but if I lost, it could be a slow and excruciating death.

The glasses clicked on a low table as Prince Caulden set them down, making me glance up. Then he sat at my side and placed an arm over my shoulder and engulfed me in his warmth.

“What’s wrong?” His leg brushed against mine. “Tell me, and I’ll fix it.”

I placed a hand on his muscular thigh and gazed into his worried, steel-gray eyes. Right now, all I wanted was to lean into him, inhale his pine-and-cedar-wood scent, and taste those gorgeous, full lips. Maybe if I could lose myself for a few hours on this sofa in his embrace, I might be able to face my dilemma with renewed hope.