Zoey expected Tarragon to drink her dry, but after one sip he stopped. He let her go and stepped back with a look of horror. It was as if he only just realized what he had done and that Caynin would punish him for it. Zoey clutched her neck as the blood dripped from it and stained her dress.
Then Caynin was on top of him – Zoey wasn’t even sure where he had come from. He was snarling, scratching, and biting like a wild animal. She was not sure if Tarragon was simply no match for Caynin or if he was not trying to fight back. Caynin was not stopping, and Zoey feared he would kill him. She would not object to that.
Then Prince Bolt and Rane grabbed Caynin’s arms and yanked him off Tarragon, who lay on the grass, covered in blood and coughing.
“Caynin, that’s enough,” Rane said. “If you kill him, you will start a war between the Everblossom and Everwhite kingdoms.”
“Do you want war?” Bolt asked.
Caynin pulled his arms free, but he did not attack Tarragon again. “If you so much as look at her again, I’ll kill you.”
Tarragon wisely stayed where he was, on the grass. He looked up at Caynin and had listened while he spoke. He did not look at Zoey.
The girl Zoey had tried to save was caught by another Fata who compelled her to calm down. She couldn’t help her and had somehow made the situation worse. Her impulsive actions could have pushed Caynin to start a war. She had to get him away from Tarragon…
Zoey reached for Caynin, and he did not push her away. “We should get out of here.”
Hesitantly, Caynin walked with her. She thought it was smart of Tarragon to stay down until Caynin was out of sight. Zoey remained next to Caynin but didn’t touch him again. He had just been in a fight, but he was not bloody or hurt. His clothes were dirty, but other than that, he looked perfect.
“Caynin, I’m okay,” she told him.
He couldn’t meet her gaze. “I told you I would protect you.” He felt guilty again.
“You can’t follow me around like a guard dog.”
“But I could have gotten you a guard,” he said.
“Having someone follow me around would drive me crazy.”
Caynin finally looked at her neck. “Seeing you hurt drives me crazy.”
They headed to his chambers, where it was quiet, and they could have privacy. He opened the door for her to let her inside, and with a flick of his wrist, all the candles in the room started burning. Their light created a romantic ambiance in his chambers.
He closed the door behind him, and she wondered how she had landed herself into this situation in the first place. She had one hand on her neck, although the bleeding had stopped. The blood had dried on her skin and her dress, and it made her feel dirty.
Caynin appeared to feel the same way about his dirty clothes. He removed his shirt to reveal his fine, sculpted body. Zoey tried not to stare.
“I need a new shirt,” he said.
“No, you don’t,” she told him and bit her lip. “And I, uh, need to shower.”
“You know where the shower is,” he said.
She entered his big bathroom and drew the curtains. The shower was spacious. There was a sink, with a long counter and plenty of mirrors. She did not close the door when she shrugged off her dress. She opened the faucets, and warm water rushed over her. She closed her eyes for a moment and waited for Caynin to appear. He did not. Did he not want her anymore since Tarragon had bitten her?
So, you are his possession.
Had she somehow lost her worth? Was she a broken toy? Zoey washed the blood from her neck and then stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her. She did not have any other clothes to wear.
She went to the bedroom where Caynin was lying on the bed, shirtless. He turned his blue eyes to her, and when he saw the towel, he sat up, and grinned. She dismissed the silly idea that she was only a toy.
She went to the bed and sat next to him. “Caynin, I have a favor to ask.”
“Are you going to ask me to ravish you?” He leaned closer but kept his hands to himself.
As tempting as that sounded, she was going to ask for something far worse. Tarragon had tasted something in her blood, hadn’t he? She’d seen the shock and horror on his face and it had made her wonder what was different about her blood compared to other humans’. Maybe Caynin would be able to figure it out.
“I’m going to ask you to drink my blood.” Her words clearly surprised him, for his smile faltered. “Tarragon bit me, but instead of drinking me dry, he let me go. He tasted something in my blood.”
Caynin rolled his eyes. “There is nothing wrong with your blood. He bit you and knew I would hurt him for it. He let you go because he came to his senses.”
“We can’t be sure until you bite me and taste,” she said.
She wasn’t sure what it was that she thought was wrong, but it bothered her. She was also not going to ask Tarragon what he had tasted in her blood. She didn’t like the idea of being bitten and shivered when Caynin leaned closer. She tilted her head back, exposing her throat. His breath tickled her neck and goose bumps appeared. Then she felt his lips and then his tongue.
He did not bite; he simply kissed her. Zoey went for his hair, and he wrapped his arms around her body to pull her closer. It was weird to think that two months ago, Zoey had been terrified of him. Now she trusted him, she wanted to be around him. She wanted him.
Caynin pulled her onto his lap, and the towel threatened to fall. Zoey’s eyes were closed as the kisses deepened. Kissing him was not like kissing Eric. Eric was a child. There was nothing boyish about Caynin. He was strong, he knew what he wanted, and understood exactly what to do to make her feel good.
“Zoey, I have to tell you something.” He drew away a little.
“It can wait.” She pulled him back.
“But—”
“It can wait.” She shoved her tongue in his mouth.
“It’s about your curse,” he whispered but evidently couldn’t summon the will to stop the kisses.
Zoey figured her curse was going to be there for the rest of her life. There would be plenty of time to talk about it, and now was not the time.
Caynin cupped her cheek and pulled her hair. “I’m going to hate myself in the morning, if I don’t tell you now what I should’ve told you a long time ago—”
“Shh.”
Lust triumphed over logic. Caynin’s hands rushed over her body, and when the towel came undone, there was no stopping.
***
The next morning, Zoey woke in Caynin’s arms. She was warm against his skin and ran a hand over his chest. Caynin was looking up at the ceiling, then smiled at her when he realized she was awake.
“Good morning.” He took her hand in his.
“Didn’t you sleep?” she asked.
“I slept a little bit,” he told her, “but I don’t need much sleep.”
“Why didn’t you get out of bed?” she asked.
“You looked so peaceful.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
She cuddled up against him and breathed him in. He smelled clean, cold, and fresh like snow. She could lie like that forever, but it was probably time to get up. Caynin must be bored after so much inactivity.
She stretched and sat up, only to realize she didn’t have any clothes to wear. Her dress was still covered in blood and lying on the bathroom floor, and she didn’t want to put it on again. She touched her neck, where the two canine marks were, to remind herself what Tarragon had done. Instantly, her good mood was spoiled.
Caynin leaned forward and placed his hand on her neck. A tingling sensation followed, which meant he had healed her. Her gut told her that he didn’t want to see those marks on her either.
“I don’t have any clothes,” she told him.
“Good,” he said, kissing her neck.
She pushed him away but couldn’t stop from smiling. “Caynin, I can’t walk to my room naked.”
“Absolutely not,” he agreed. “Just stay.”
He neared her again, and she laughed as she shoved him away. He pouted but got out of bed, stepped into pants, then went into the hall to no doubt find a servant. Zoey wrapped the sheets around her and waited for him to return. She bit her lip and smiled to herself as she recalled the passionate night they had shared.
She was not sure where she stood with him. Were they dating now? Was she his girlfriend or were things going to go back to the way they were? They could always pretend this hadn’t happened. No long-term future existed for them, but she still didn’t want this to stop. She held on to the little bit of naïve hope that things between them could work out.
Caynin returned with clothes for Zoey. He gave her a silky, long-sleeved black shirt and long green pants with black shoes. She got dressed in front of him, and he watched her.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said.
“Not compared to you.” She didn’t say it with any bitterness; she was just being honest. She was not beautiful when compared to the Fata.
“Don’t compare yourself to me or any Fata,” he said. “You’re so much better than we are.”
She finished tying her shoelace and smiled at him. She could tell from the honesty in his eyes that he meant it.
“I’m hungry,” she told him.
“Breakfast should be ready,” he told her.
They left his room together but did not hold hands. Zoey was surprised by how normal things were between them. What had she thought would change so drastically?
They passed the throne room, where several humans were cleaning up. The place was a mess. Zoey glanced through the open doors to see that each throne had its matching crown on, for display. The empty box was still on its stand next to the Eternity Throne.
“When will the other princes leave?” Zoey asked.
She did not mind if Bolt and Dagan stayed here because they did not bother her. She also didn’t mind the queen, as she hardly ever saw her. She just wanted Tarragon gone. A part of her wished that Caynin had killed him last night.
“They are welcome to stay as long as they want,” Caynin said, “but I doubt it will be longer than two weeks.”
Two weeks was a long time to have Tarragon around. She couldn’t wait to get rid of him. He was cruel and delighted in tormenting vulnerable human girls.
“Is Tarragon going to be at breakfast?”
“I don’t know.” The tension in his voice suggested that he didn’t want Tarragon present during breakfast any more than she did.
Rane, Flint, Bolt, and Dagan were already seated when Zoey and Caynin reached the dining room. Zoey sighed in relief when she realized Tarragon was absent. Maybe he was too humiliated to show his face. Would he pick a fight with Caynin out of revenge? If he did, she hoped Rane would be there to have Caynin’s back.
“Did you decide to sleep in?” Dagan asked curiously, sniffing the air. Zoey was not sure if he asked her, Caynin or them both.
Of course, Fata never slept in – that was a human need. Was he fishing to find out if they had spent the night together? What they did really was none of his business. She had rejected him last night when she refused to dance with him. Was his ego hurt?
“Of course, I did,” Zoey said.
“I’m sure you needed some rest after picking a fight with Tarragon,” Flint told her.
At first, she thought he was angry that she had the guts to take on a Fata. Then she realized he despised Tarragon as much as Dagan did. He pulled out the chair next to him and motioned for her to sit. “I want to sit next to the human who was crazy enough to take on Ruler Tarragon. Twice.”
She smiled and took her seat. For the first time, she felt as if she belonged. She was a part of something here.
Caynin sat at the head of the table, between Rane and Bolt. Dagan sat across from Zoey, his eyes skimming her neck curiously. He was not going to find any bite marks.
“I have decided what your third trial is,” Bolt said.
Zoey looked at him immediately. She was curious and nervous. With everything that had been going on last night, she had forgotten that one trial remained.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m sure you know we are not the only creatures that came through the door from Erken.”
She nodded.
“I want you to find one of the other creatures that did and bring me its head. No one may help you kill it.”
Zoey didn’t know much about the creatures from Erken, but she had no desire to kill them. None of the creatures in the palace had ever tried to harm her, and she couldn’t picture herself harming them. Maybe there were some evil creatures out there? She would have to go to the library and find out.
“Do I have a deadline?” she asked.
“No,” he said, “but do hurry it up, as I doubt that I’ll be staying here for much longer.”
The Red Festival was over, and it was time for the princes to go home. There was nothing more for them here. If Bolt went home, to the Everfall Kingdom, must she bring him the head of a magical creature? How would she reach him? Could she use the Globetrot-tree to teleport? She was already cursed. What more harm could be done if she touched the tree again?
“Don’t look so worried,” Rane told her, and she was surprised by his support. “Your other two trials were far worse. You can do this one.”
She gave him a smile which he returned. He believed in her, just like Caynin did. Now she just had to believe in herself. Bolt had said no one was allowed to help her kill the creature. He hadn’t said that no one was allowed to educate her. She would ask Caynin about different types of creatures, where she could find one, and how she could kill it.
She was not cheating, just bending the rules – like Tarragon had when he dueled with Dagan. Comparing herself to Tarragon made her shiver. She didn’t want to be like that Fata.
Caynin had chosen that she had to resist compulsion for the first trial. If she wanted to live among the Fata, she needed a strong mind and a strong will. Dagan had chosen a test of loyalty for the second. If she was going to live here, she had to be loyal to the Fata. Bolt’s trial involved taking another life, to get what she wanted. He was smart to choose this. He had seen her fighting for the innocent girl from whom Tarragon had wanted to drink. This trial was difficult because Zoey was not a killer. In her hallucination, during the second trial, she had killed the hunters in self-defense. But hunting a creature who had never wronged her before and taking its life was murder.
“If you want to live here, you have to be strong enough to go after what you want,” Bolt told her. “No matter what it does to others.”
Truthfully, she didn’t want to kill anything. She did not want her hands stained with blood. She looked around the table and realized she was eating breakfast with murderers. Death was nothing new to them. And she wanted to be able to survive around them. The only way to survive was to be like them – to be strong, to fight, manipulate, and deceive.
That morning, Caynin had told her she was better than they were. She wasn’t sure he was right.