The Fae Princes (Vicious Lost Boys #4)(25)

Callio clasps her hands in front of her. “No more than when a banished prince is allowed back into the fold.”

Kas bristles. I take a step, putting myself between him and the fairy. The shadow writhes inside of me and I know my eyes go black.

Callio tries to hide her startled intake of breath, but I hear it, the shadow hears it.

“Insult him again and I’ll strangle you until your eyes bleed.” My voice has turned hollow and echoey with the shadow, and the shadow is pleased to make an appearance.

Bash laughs and puts his hands on my shoulders, pulling me behind him. “She’s a little protective, Calli-who-whatever your name is. You’ll have to forgive her.”

Callio frowns, but nods and says, “We want no violence.”

Now it’s Vane’s turn to snort.

“Of course,” Bash answers. “Just here to celebrate the return of our dead mother.”

A group of girls, with glittering wings and gemstones in their ears, slow as they pass in the hall. They whisper to one another, their lingering stares on my boys as they blush and bat their eyelashes and giggle to each other.

My blood pressure boils.

The sound of my molars gritting together makes my ears ring.

Vane is suddenly beside me. “Easy, Win.”

Is this what it feels like being a soldier in the wild, knowing danger could be lurking around every corner? I mean, the danger is fairy girls and the risk is my boys.

But I trust them. I do. It’s just…the shadow doesn’t care about trust. It only cares about protecting what’s ours.

The shadow and I are on the same damn page.

“Breathe,” Vane says.

“I am breathing.”

“If you’ll follow me,” Callio says and turns with a flourish, her dress swirling around her legs.

I suck in a deep breath anyway, because filling my lungs with air is better than breathing fire.

“I’m having sensory overload, I think,” I whisper.

Vane steps in front of me. “When you feel the shadow take over…”

“It’s not taking over.”

Vane bends to my level. “When you feel the shadow fighting you, eyes on me.”

I meet his gaze, his black eye, his violet one. He’s searching me, fine lines appearing around his eyes as his concern grows.

“I’m okay,” I say, but I’m not sure that’s true. I like parties and this definitely feels like a party, but I’ve never had to attend one where I hold the hearts of four gorgeous, powerful men who everyone wants a piece of.

With a dark shadow lurking beneath my skin.

“Eyes on me,” Vane repeats.

His words are a jolt. I didn’t even realize I’d strayed away from him again to glare at the girls as they scurry away.

“Okay,” I tell him.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

“She good?” Pan is waiting for us, halfway between us and the twins. He’s unreadable, so fucking distant.

I want him to tell me he loves me still. I want him to reassure me that everything is okay, that I don’t have to worry about finding him with another girl on his lap.

I want to scream at him to give me all of those things, but I bite my tongue.

“I’m good.” I roll my shoulders, as if that will prove my point. “Let’s get this over with.”





14





PETER PAN


There isn’t enough whisky or bourbon in the world to cool my nerves tonight.

Fairy wine would do the trick, but it’s a stupid move, an amateur move, to get drunk at a fairy celebration when you’re an outsider and the enemy.

Callio leads us to the throne room where the celebration is already well underway. And when a servant passes by, tray in hand, I snatch one of the full ones and drink it back.

Silly ass indeed.

Fairy wine is like drinking the stars. It’s smooth and sweet and sharp in your cheeks.

As it settles in my gut, my insides glow, then warm, and a little of the anxiety fades away.

There is a full band on the dais where the throne usually sits. They’re playing horn instruments and a lyre. All of them are fae with no wings.

The crowd swallows us up. The fae have always gone over the top with their finery and tonight is no different. Tunics threaded with gold. Dresses studded with emeralds and sapphires and diamonds. Some stones smooth like candy, others faceted so they cut the light as the wearer dances.

I scan the room looking for Tinker Bell, and then suddenly she’s there, my gut twisting.

“My babies!” she says and comes forward, arms open for her sons.

Bash and Kas go rigid beside one another, but the entire throne room is watching now. They let Tinker Bell hug them.

“I remember when you were shorter than me,” she says, and dabs at her eyes, but it’s all fake. Tinker Bell can only feel one emotion at a time, and usually its loathing. “But wait…” She steps back and scans the twins head to toe. “This won’t do. Brownie!” She turns and claps her hands. “Brownie! Where are all the brownies? Tilly, where are all the brownies?!”

The brownies are dead. Because I killed them.

The fae queen comes over, the crowd parting for her. “I already told you, Mother,” Tilly says, “we’re short on brownies these days.”