Page 81 of A Prince So Cruel

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My family would have a million questions, but at least they would know I was okay and would stop wondering if I’d ended up dead in a ditch or trapped in a maniac’s basement.

“There’s something else you should know,” Kalyll added, his cobalt eyes connecting with mine and looking as serious as a heart attack.

“What is that?”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this morning.”

My breath caught as his deep voice racked over me, doing things to my body that other males hadn’t made me feel even with their touch. God, it wasn’t fair—not if I couldn’t make him feel the same way. This male knew how to seduce, for sure. Maybe seduction had been one of the subjects he’d learned to become an effective king.

Was I a match for him? I had to try to be.

I held his gaze and slowly licked my lips. “I already forgot about it,” I said, sounding regretful. “Perhaps I need a reminder.”

Kalyll squirmed on top of his saddle, which let me know Ididhave the same effect on him. My stomach fluttered at the thought because he wasn’t just any male. He was a Fae prince with not only the body and face of a god, but from what I’d learned so far, also a brilliant mind and the heart of a lion.

“It would be my pleasure to offer you one,” he said. “I have—”

Kryn rode forward to join us. He looked between Kalyll and me with something like displeasure, as if it bothered him that we were talking.

“Something the matter?” Kalyll asked.

“Jeondar says we’re being followed.”

“Is that so?” Kalyll grunted, irritated. “I feared someone might get that idea.”

“Cylea’s vote is on Lyanner Phiran. He says he was being nosy at the ball, asking all kinds of questions. It wouldn’t be the first time he sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Let’s work on throwing them off our trail. Let’s head for the trees.”

Kryn nodded and rode back, but not before shooting me a dirty look. Great. We were back to square one. I thought he and I had made some progress, but that was too optimistic of me.

For the next couple of hours, we weaved through different paths in North Crosswood. It was far more interesting than riding in the open, but it would, no doubt, add time to our travels.

“Won’t they be able to track us, anyway?” I asked Kalyll.

“Not with Cylea’s help.”

“Oh yeah?”

“She will disguise our passage.”

“How?”

“Why don’t you take a look?”

“I shall.”

Even though I was enjoying riding next to Kalyll and learning more about him, I turned Dandelion around and found Cylea at the back of the group. She was riding her horse backward with as much agility as Kryn had displayed when he did the same. She wore a bored expression as she weaved her fingers and pointed them at the ground, a flower, or a branch.

“What are you doing?” I asked, eyes scanning the path we were leaving behind.

She didn’t answer, only continued to—

A patch of weeds our horses had trampled reformed itself and went back to looking intact. A bed of moss that had the imprint of a horseshoe fluffed itself back up. A broken branch became whole again—everything happened all at once and with the least bit of effort.

“Wow, you can… heal plants,” I said.

“You can too, I saw it.” Cylea looked bored, almost contemptuous of her gift.


Tags: Ingrid Seymour Fantasy