Page 41 of Fae Mates

“You’d think they’d let a horse breeder live near the stables, but we lived in Courage, the fourth level of the Mound. That’s where Father got bitten by a draconope that had been attacking the foals.”

I chewed on my lip, wondering if Lady Gala’s portal to the Otherworld had let this monster slither into our realm. Draconopes were a type of faerie cursed with the body of a snake and used to devour human children in the days of Queen Maeve.

Shaking off a sense of impending dread, I asked, “Did your father have an apprentice that could have gone up to Prudence to get the life-water?”

“It was supposed to be me.” Her voice broke, and she rested a palm on the trunk of the dogwood tree. “I took a flying horse to the palace, but the guards wouldn’t let a half-blood through the wards without a chaperone.”

“Oh no,” I said with a pained sigh.

The hand holding the branch curled into a fist. “It’s why I hate this regime so much. Everything is stacked against those who aren’t members of the Royal Court, and no one cares about half-bloods, even when they’re trying to help a full-blooded faerie.”

Mr. Whittaker placed a comforting arm around Flora. I reached out and squeezed her bicep. Now her hostility toward Helen made sense. With Helen’s father being the head of the King’s Guard, it was no wonder some of her resentment seeped through to the remedial class.

We continued through the forest, offering Flora support until our path meandered toward a wall of two-story-high bushes with tiny, rose-pink berries in the distance. The sound of running water made my heart skip a beat.

“The well is behind the pepper trees,” said Mr. Whittaker. “Their secretions are toxic, but a sip of the water will take care of the poison.”

I spluttered. “What?”

“How much do you love me?” drawled a familiar female voice from behind the dense foliage.

I crept forward to a gap between the pepper trees and held my breath. Kneeling on the ground were three naked males. I recognized Prince Bradwell’s long, crimson hair. Next to him knelt Prince Caulden, who bowed his powder-blue head, and it looked like someone had hacked Prince Rory’s beautiful, russet hair.

Lady Gala paced up and down in her school uniform, staring down at them with the kind of contemptuous sneer she’d once reserved for me.

“More than the moon.” Prince Bradwell sounded desperate, making me wonder if he’d gotten himself poisoned, and she was withholding the life-water.

“I love her more,” said Prince Caulden.

“It’s me who loves her the most,” added Prince Rory.

Lady Gala chuckled, but there was no joy in the sound. “You’re loathsome creatures, slave to your pathetic swords.”

All three of them bowed their heads.

“August couldn’t help sneaking each morning out to paw at that repulsive organ. Someone took advantage of his weakness, and now he’s missing, presumed dead.”

My brows drew together. Since when was it wrong for a guy to touch his own dick in private?

“He was unfaithful.” She stopped pacing and placed her hands on her hips. “For your protection, I’m going to encase your traitorous appendages in ice.”

My stomach dropped. What the bloody fuck did that even mean?

All three of their heads snapped up, but it was Prince Rory who spoke first. “Gala, please don’t—”

“You’re the filthiest,” she snapped. “You betrayed me twice with that whore.”

“But you burned her,” whispered Prince Rory.

“And now I’m putting your sword on ice until my heat.”

She flicked her fingers and produced a penis-sized cage of ice consisting of about a dozen transparent cock-rings curving around toward a transparent cock-head. She had even included a little insert to go into the slit.

I tilted my head to the side and peered at the loop she had created to hold the testicles. For someone who thought dicks were disgusting, she had an alarmingly accurate knowledge of male anatomy.

Prince Rory gasped. “Gala, no—”

“Silence,” she roared.