This wasn’t a conversation meant for me. I stepped farther back into the shadows and watched as a spectator at what I had stolen.
“Yasmin, I—” He faltered.
“How will you save your kingdom now?” she whispered, tears forming in her eyes as she turned and left down the hallway.
Her rejection seemed to undo him, and he leaned his head against the wall and rubbed his temples. Then he noticed I was still standing in the dark with him.
Frustrated, I turned, but Xander was quick, his arm pulling me back toward him. “Now do you understand my predicament? I will probably be murdered in my sleep tonight.”
“Yes, you probably will,” I heartedly agreed, plotting all the ways I could murder him without leaving evidence. I had already decided on six different methods when he distracted me by leaning in close, my breath catching.
Xander snatched another glass from a passing tray, raised it in a toast to his almost bride, and downed the whole glass. Here he was, my husband. And though handsome as the stories said, he was drunk, and I couldn’t help but let it mar my opinion of him. It was obvious he didn’t know who I was.
“Today is your wedding, sir,” I said stiffly.
“Don’t you think I know this?” Xander snarled at me. “Why do you think I’m here with you, drowning my sorrows in a drink? My one chance to save my kingdom, and I had it stripped from me as they forced me to marry an old hag. Now I’m doomed.”
“Do you have no feelings for others at all?” I gasped.
“The only feelings I need to consider are mine.” Xander stepped closer and reached for me, and I had a flashback to only a few hours ago, when he was blinded with hatred for me, refused to touch me when he thought I was his wife. Yet now, under no coercion other than alcohol, he had both touched and kissed me, not because he loved me, but because he found me beautiful and mysterious. I couldn't care less what deadline he had or his problems. He would never come near me again. This was not love but lust.
“Do not touch me!” I threatened, turning on my heel and storming away.
He made to follow me, but with a wave of my hands, I made sure his boots stuck to the floor with magic, giving me enough time to flee.
“I will find you,” he called out huskily. “And you will be mine.”
The more distance I put between us, the greater my fury grew, not daring to stop until I was back in my room and safe—but what could one consider safe from a prince in his own castle? Crossing to the door that adjoined our rooms, I pushed a heavy chair over to it, just in case a drunken Xander entered and preemptively murdered me in my sleep.
Murder, or something else?
My heart thudded in my chest, my mind reeling from the trail of kisses he left on my neck and the desire he had lit within me. I wasn’t sure if I should pray that he never come near me again or if he could finish what he started. I had never been kissed, and unfortunately that drunken one was probably the closest I would ever come.
For in the light of day, there would be no hiding who I was. Once he realized it, he would avoid me until I died… or I murdered him.
Chapter Three
Seek
Chase
Kill
* * *
I held back the silent scream of horror, my body paralyzed. Unable to breathe or move, I lay in bed as the night terror took over. Blood! There was so much blood. Tears pooled in my eyes painfully, but I couldn’t blink, my fear having taken hold of my body so.
They had come back. The dreams. The visions. They had returned with a vengeance, and I struggled to not choke on the taste of iron in my mouth. An illusion or consequence of my gift, as I knew without any doubt that death had come. Not mine, for I never dreamed of me, but someone near me, close by in proximity, and their death was brutal. Never had I tapped into a killer’s mind with such clarity, and what I had found filled me with terror.
When the episode passed and I regained control of my muscles, I sat up in bed and pushed the cover off my shaking and sweat-covered body. Slipping out of the bed, I moved to the window and looked out into the night, searching for the source of my nightmare. No other ominous feelings came, and I breathed easier. Maybe my dream was brought on by the stress of traveling, the wedding, and my very odd day, nothing more?
That’s a lie.
I knew sleep would come no more until morning, so I sat in my chair by the fireplace and retreated deep into my mind.
When the morning rays filtered through the curtains and across my face, my nightmare seemed so far away, nothing more than a nightmare. A bad dream.
Instead, I faced a different nightmare as my eye-opening realization hit me.
The prince cheated on me on our wedding day—with me!
I sat in front of my mirror, fuming at what had transpired the night before. How dare Prince Xander seek the attention of another woman after we had taken our vows? He immediately promised that he wouldn’t ever love me or be faithful, but to see it firsthand sent my blood pressure through the roof.
When I was angry, my sisters said I turned into the ice queen, my fire hidden behind my frozen expression. No one would know what I was thinking. I would go on and play the part they had assigned me to play.
Witch.
I roughly ran my brush through my hair as I glanced to the adjoining room door and the chair that hadn’t budged.
Old hag.
I wasn’t old. Barely twenty-two winters, and the prince looked about the same, maybe a little older. Maybe by kingdoms’ standards, I was considered an old maid, but not to the fey. Still, I searched my face for telltale wrinkles and was pleased to see my face was flawless.
My eyes strayed to the door again.
He hadn’t come. Mixed feelings of relief and regret plagued me, and I pursed my lips in irritation. The day after my wedding and I was still as pure as snow.
Slamming the brush onto the dressing table, I turned to the door and wished I could bore holes into it with my anger and frustration.
Not only were they starving me, but no servants had even come to attend me this morning. At home, our family had a brownie who helped tend the house at night and keep the fireplace stoked. A cranky hob lived in our garden and took care of the animals and plants. I had yet to see any brownies, hobs, or house-elves around the palace. They were usually commonplace, even more so in royal families, but since arriving, I hadn’t seen brown hide or furry tail. I would have to see if I could lay out some milk and attract one. With eight women under one roof, we relied heavily on smaller fey's deft fingers to work through the knots of our hair and braids.
Mother was once a lady of nobility from the highest of courts and privately taught by the brightest of tutors. She learned the languages and customs of the known kingdoms, their history, and everything a future monarch would need. Not to mention one of her tutors, Lorn, was an elusive fey of the north. Lady Eville was born and bred to become a queen, but heartache and betrayal befell her, and her family lost her fortune and cast her aside into poverty. Even her true love didn’t save her. Heartbroken, she vowed to never love again.
Seeking solace in a lone tower in the town of Nihill, she continued her studies and planned her revenge. Until one fateful night during a storm, Lady Eville left the tower alone and returned three days later with me. I, Rosalie, became the first of her adopted daughters. Over the years, each of my adopted sisters came to our home in various ways. I didn’t know my real family or where I came from. Lady Eville said we were the only family each of us would ever need.