Reign (An Unfortunate Fairy Tale, #4)(50)

Her soul cried out at those words, and a little sob escaped her lips. Teague thought it was because he was holding her arms too tight, and he loosened his grip. His thumb rubbed the underside of her arm, quite an intimate gesture at the moment. After all, she was still a stranger.

“Take a deep breath,” he coached again.

She did, and then she took another one, focusing on his eyes. On the color. She had to clear her mind.

“Close your eyes,” he said. “Think of somewhere safe.”

Home. Home was safe, or at least it was until she became involved with the Grimm curse.

Finally, a picture formed in her mind. A picture of Jared. He was a safe place. He’d been her protector. He looked out for her. It took a while, but she’d come to realize that whenever she was with him, she would be safe. She pictured his strong jaw, his dark tousled hair, and his stormy gray eyes. A smile slowly formed on her lips.

“Jared,” she whispered under her breath. She heard the sound of metal clanking on tile and knew that she’d released the knives. It still blew her mind that she’d been able to save herself like that.

She knew she was beaming from ear to ear, but she opened her eyes to see Teague’s frustrated face.

“Who’s Jared?”

“A boy,” she replied, immediately wishing she hadn’t. Teague dropped her arms coldly and turned away from her.

He moved to stand next to his parents, and she could hear him giving curt answers. Something about her being scared and not being able to control her powers.

Queen Maeve seemed skeptical, and Mina was able to catch bits of what she was saying. “What Fae girl of her age can’t control her powers? Maybe we should send her home now, before we test her. We certainly have cause. Besides, her results are sure to be weak, even without using the bowl.”

Her words dug deep beneath Mina’s armor and wounded her. She’d just done something great. She saved her own life as well as the six other girls’. Coming off that high only to be treated as worthless was a huge kick in the stomach.

King Lucian rubbed his golden beard. “Perhaps, but you must admit, these were not normal circumstances.”

“What if she’s an assassin as well?” the queen asked.

“Hardly.” King Lucian laughed. It felt great to get his vote of confidence at least. “She was the one who saw the danger first and warned us.”

“I’m still not sure about her. Something feels off.” Queen Maeve didn’t soften her blows simply because Mina was within earshot. Why should she? She was, after all, queen.

They turned to address Ferah. At least for now, the topic was dropped.

“You, Ferah, have committed an act of treason with your assassination attempt. Your punishment will be doled out quickly and without mercy. What have you to say for yourself?”

Ferah held her head high and glared angrily toward Teague. Mina was surprised by her stoic bravery in the face of death. “He will destroy us all. The prophecy has foretold our impending doom.” Her finger did not waver as it pointed to Teague.

Anger and turmoil rolled off Teague in waves.

If anyone knew the truth behind Ferah’s words it was Mina. She knew the outcome. Knew that Teague would quickly break off his betrothal and try to destroy the kingdom, which would force the Fates to split his power—his very self—in two. Part of her actually wanted that to happen, because she wanted the Jared she had known and loved to exist. The person who stood before her was not him.

“Take heed, Fates. United he will destroy you. Divided he will fail.” Her voice had taken on an otherworldly quality. She looked around the room until her eyes met Mina’s. They widened for a fraction of a second, and then she smiled. Ferah began to giggle. Her head fell to the side and she continued to laugh at a joke only she knew the punch line to. “I see that I have failed. But there is another who will not.”

“What is the meaning of this?” King Lucian growled. Captain Plaith and a guard lifted Ferah off the ground so only the tips of her shoes skimmed the tile.

“I am not your only hope. It seems there will be another who comes to finish what I have started.”

“Who? Who dares to try to murder our son? Answer me, you miserable excuse for a Fae!” he roared.

Ferah pinched her lips together in a firm line. She met his accusing glare with steel and refused to say another word.

“She won’t talk? I bet she’d talk to one of the Reapers,” Teague said, and the room collectively gasped in surprise and horror. He looked to his parents, and they nodded in approval.

“Yes, fetch the Reaper, Captain Plaith. We will have a hunt,” Lucian agreed. The guard who stood at the Fates’ side turned on his heel and strode from the room.

Mina’s stomach tightened as bile rose in her throat. She wanted to cower and hide. The king was calling the Reapers—the hunters of all things evil. And in the future, the hunters of the Grimm. Her family. For centuries to come, the Fates would send Reapers after her family line if they got close to finishing the quests.

Summoned, the Reaper stood before the Fates, dressed in a long black leather cloak. “My Fates.” He pulled two hand held scythes from beneath his cloak, bowed, and waited for his orders. This Reaper was different than the one who hunted her. He was tall and muscular, but—where her human culture portrayed the Reaper as white like death—this one was as dark as sin with yellow eyes. Mina knew that Reapers were not a race of Fae, like fairies, nixies, or giants. A Reaper was a job description. And the position could only be held by a true murderer, for they liked to toy with their victims. They were the cleanup crew for the Fates.