Page 58 of Fae Games

I’d heard that phrase, ‘grinning from ear to ear,’ but that just meant a huge, beaming smile. The hag’s face split as though she had hinges in her ears, then she threw her head back and laughed. It was a mix of cackles and rasping coughs that set my teeth on edge.

Prince Caulden leaned across and whispered, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s our fault Helenium is in this predicament,” Prince Bradwell replied. “If we hadn’t conspired against Unity, the girls wouldn’t have thought to throw Helenium into Dubnos.”

My hand slid over Prince Bradwell’s, and he let my fingers intertwine with his. I murmured, “Be careful.”

He nodded.

The three of us huddled together on that wretched pile of rotten, creaking wood, waiting for the hag’s maniacal laughing to stop. The way she hugged herself and swung from side to side, wheezing out her glee, presumably at having ensnared something more valuable than we could fathom.

After several laughing coughs, she said, “I want a vial of your seed.”

Prince Bradwell stiffened. “To what end?”

“Nothing as nefarious as getting myself pregnant and birthing a child to put on the throne.” The hag waved a dismissive hand. “If I wanted that, I would pump your father for his essence.”

My lips tightened, and I swallowed back a throat-full of bile. This hag sure had some reprehensible ideas.

“Why do you want my brother’s seed?” Prince Caulden growled.

“Jealous?” She swept her gaze up and down the Winter prince’s form as though he wasn’t half attractive as his brother. “Your magic is only good for making things wither and die.”

I clenched my teeth. “If you can’t tell us—”

“Alright, alright!” She hoisted herself off the armchair, knocking aside her drink, and shuffled to the grotesque candle. After blowing on her fingers, she rummaged within the depths of its yellow-brown wax and extracted a vial containing white liquid. “I’ve been saving this for the right moment.”

Beside me, Prince Bradwell deflated, making me wonder if he knew what the hag was going to say next.

“Get to the point,” growled Prince Caulden.

She tilted the vial from side to side, making its contents slosh. “This is an unfinished elixir that will grant its drinker either the spring of youth, their summer prime, or their autumn glory. The fourth option is that they wither and die, but there are better ways to commit suicide.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “It’s missing an important ingredient you can only get from people as powerful as the princes.”

“Clever girl!” she said with a cackle.

Prince Bradwell stood. “Very well. Tell us how to free Helenium, and I will place my seed in your vial.”

The rheum in her eyes vanished, replaced with a gaze so heated, it made her bosom bob up and down with her fevered breaths. “Seed first. Then I’ll hand you a scroll with the ritual. And I get to do the milking.”

“No.” I shot to my feet. “I’ll do it. And we’ll need a bit of privacy.”

Prince Bradwell shot me a grateful look.

Prince Caulden stood, his brows drawn together. Despite his worry, he swept his arm out and gestured to the back of the room. “While we’re waiting, Mistress Catha, why don’t you introduce me to your cat?”

“Very well, but I want a full load.” She hobbled past and shoved the vial in my hand. “No sampling!”

I clenched my teeth and glared at her crooked back. What did she think I was, some kind of cum guzzler?

Moments later, Prince Bradwell and I stood side by side, shooting each other nervous looks. This was so fucked up, it wasn’t funny, and the hag’s excited, heavy breathing as she detailed the habits of Mister Mcvittie, the cursed-to-silence talking cat wasn’t helping the mood.

“Unity,” whispered the prince of the Spring Court. “You don’t have to do this. Just looking at you while I take myself in hand is enough.”

“I want to.” Slipping the vial in my pocket, I stepped in front of Prince Bradwell and placed both hands on his chest. His frantic heartbeat reverberated against my palms, and I slid one hand down the contour of his pectoral muscle and over his abs.

At the waistband of his pants, I whispered, “May I?”