Page 62 of Fae Uncovered

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My beast stamped its foot at the statement. He could have stayed. He could have fought. The beast didn’t want to trust him, but I knew we didn’t have many other options. So, I turned to face Faust alongside my new ally.

I wouldn’t trust Tal anywhere near Cerri. That was something the beast and I agreed upon. No one was allowed near the princess. The moment anyone tried to lay a hand on her, the creature would rip its way out of me. I was lucky that it hadn’t so far.

Faust laughed. The sound echoed from all directions. The world tilted. Tal didn’t seem as affected. The pookah assassin was inside my head.

“Your beast wants out,” Faust whispered in my ear, though he was still ten paces ahead of me. “Let it out, let it destroy, let it consume…”

At the sound of Faust’s command, the beast exploded. I clutched my middle and tried to force the creature back. It was too much for my body. The creature would break free of me at any moment.

“You’re no use to me in this fight,” Tal said.

He reached out and put a hand to my forehead. The beast snarled and gnashed its teeth at Tal’s touch. My skin stretched too tight. I could already feel claws on the inside of my body. They reached to twist my hands into talons.

No. I didn’t want this. I never wanted to let this monstrosity out again. It was an aberration, a creation made by the pookahs and their terrifying imaginations. It never should have been put inside me. I should have never needed this extra strength.

If I hadn’t been weak in the first place…If I hadn’t needed these tattoos…and more. I failed, over and over again. I’d been too weak to uphold my vow, and so I’d sought out another source of power so that I could be the knight that my court needed.

The plan had backfired. I’d agreed to a curse.

Tal shoved. The world spun. Beyond Tal, I saw the shadowed blur of Faust bolting towards us. I tried to shout, but a snarl was all that came out. The beast twisted my vocal cords. It bent my facial structure.

Magic sprang up as I turned. Tal accessed a level of in-between that I thought out of reach. He tapped into the moment in my spin between one direction and another and shoved me through.

Of course, my first thought was of Cerri. I thought of her bedroom and its veil of soft flowers. It was an oasis, a safe place. And, most importantly, it was where I could find Cerri.

Cerri

“I’m goingto stay at your side as long as you need,” I mocked as I dumped rose petals into my cauldron.

I felt like a crotchety old witch while I worked. Misery had taken ahold of me and changed me into a little monster hunched over the cauldron. Steam rose and made my curly hair extra wild. Not even my usual bandana could hold it at bay.

Pushing it back, I sighed. The steam rolled away from me and curled in the air before dissipating all together. It fell apart, just like I wanted to. The urge to crawl back into bed almost overwhelmed my desire to get this potion done.

Sleep still escaped me. It wasn’t made any easier knowing that Rhoan wasn’t here when he’d promised me he would stay again. His priorities were to the Seelie Court. I should have understood that from the beginning, but I’d been wrapped up in the idea of being protected for once.

“I’m not your tool,” I grumbled.

“Not whose what?” Rhoan asked walking through my bedroom door.

I jumped. The spoon in my hand lurched forward. The cauldron tipped and spilled its contents all over the stovetop. I let out a screech of frustration before pulling the cauldron upright again. It was too late. The potion had been spilled.

Again.

I snatched my kitchen towel from the front of the oven and started grumpily mopping up the mess while muttering under my breath.

I waited for Rhoan to ask me what I was up to. He normally came up to me and poked his nose in everything, but he was oddly silent. Halfway through cleaning, I paused and looked back.

The man flopped face first down onto my sketchy couch despite the glass that was probably still embedded in the damn thing. At first, I thought he was tired from being up all night doing god-knows-what. Then I noticed the way his chest heaved. He gripped the cushions with a furious strength, testing the fabric’s limitations.

Potion forgotten, I rushed over to his side. I grabbed him and tried to push him over so I could check for wounds. There was no blood. I couldn’t smell it on the air or see it on the couch, but the way Rhoan snarled told me that there was definitely something wrong.

“Leave me be,” he snarled.

His voice echoed with a familiar sound. It was more than just his own growling rumble. I heard the roar of a beast inside him. It took me aback. I wasn’t a spoiled princess, though. I’d been raised by shifters. This was nothing new to me.

“Rhoan,” I said, softly as I cupped his cheek.

This was dangerous. Usually, only mates could approach angry shifters when they were on the verge of losing control. Now, I noticed the other signs. His fingers were tipped with sharp, black talons that pierced the thick fabric of my couch. The texture of his bare skin had changed as if there was something pressing on it from the inside.


Tags: Emilia Hartley Paranormal