Marked (The Coldest Fae Book 3) by Katerina Martinez (novel24 .txt) 📗

Lora nodded, turned around, and then threw herself on all fours. Her hands became paws before she’d even touched the ground. In an instant, she’d transformed into a wolf and gone speeding down the hill in search of clothes for me to wear. There hadn’t been an ounce of hesitation or so much as a question.

Ashera had the final authority here, and that meant all I had to do was stay in her good graces. That was how I was going to get through this.

“Now,” she said to me, “Who is this man?”

I looked down at the Prince who I had managed to turn onto his back before dragging all the way back here. It struck me as odd that she didn’t immediately recognize him as the son of the King and the Queen of Windhelm. I didn’t think I would’ve had to identify him to anyone, but the Alpha of the moon children had no idea who he was. None of them did.

Or maybe that was what they wanted me to believe; maybe this was a test.

I had no idea what kind of hornet’s nest revealing the Prince’s true identity would kick over, but I also fully understood the perils of lying to this woman about who he was. I had been told that the moon children and the Castle didn’t get along, and I had just delivered the royal family’s only heir to their doorstep. Would they order him executed?

Shit.

This was one of the hardest decisions I had ever had to make, and I didn’t have a lot of time to make it. I was lucky he was wearing mostly black, with none of the usual frills and opulence I had come to expect to find adorning the bodies of fae royals. He looked normal, like a commoner, save for the antlers curling around his head.

His antlers probably set him apart from other fae, at least from any of them on this side of the portal. But the fact that he hadn’t been recognized, and he didn’t have anything on him that would identify him as a royal meant I had an opportunity, if I was stupid enough to take it.

Think, Dahlia. Think!

“His name is Colin,” I lied.

Oh fuck.

I could see all the blood drain from Mira’s face even from here. Her eyes were wide, her mouth had fallen open, and her skin had turned even paler, if that was even possible. We had both shared the moment of oh fuck together, and when I glanced at Melina, it was obvious she had shared the moment with us.

All three of us, united in our horror at what I had just done.

“Colin?” the Alpha asked, “That is an odd name for a fae.”

Because it’s the name of a human boy I tricked into loving me with a magic sweatshirt. It was literally the first male name that had come to mind. Actually, that wasn’t true. The first name had been Tellren, because besides the Prince, he was the only other man I’d had any real interaction with during my time at the castle.

If we were going to stay here, though—and that looked likely—I didn’t want to have to call the Prince Tellren the entire time.

“He’s a carpenter… from Lysa,” I said, “We were separated several days ago when a bridge collapsed behind our carriage. I thought we had lost him, but I was able to smell his blood in the forest.” I paused. “I found him bleeding and hurt. I don’t know who attacked him, but he needs healing. Can you help?”

It was about as convincing a lie as I could muster, and I didn’t think she had bought it. It was a flimsy story, at best, with more holes in it than swiss cheese. I knew they had noticed us travelling through the woods; they had been watching us. But they couldn’t have been watching us since before we entered the forest, so how could they know I had just lied?

Ashera stood, straightening herself up and taking a sharp breath in through the nose. “Praxis, Toross,” she called out, “Take this one to the healers, have him looked after. The girl with the broken ankle, also.”

“What about her?” Praxis said through his teeth. He meant Mel.

“Give her a tent. Food. Water. These people are our guests, now. Make sure they are all treated as such.”

I nodded. “Thank you,” I said, “Thank you so much.”

“Do not thank me,” the Alpha said, “I am showing you hospitality because you have shown us you are more than just a false prophet of the tath isia. You may in fact be the white wolf, but that remains to be seen.”

“What more evidence do you need?”

She leaned a little closer, the darkness around her eyes deepening even as her eyes themselves brightened. “More,” she said, “You will come with me, you will eat, and we will talk while your friends are situated within our camp. We have things to discuss.”

Praxis had made his way toward me by this point, and he’d picked the Prince up like he was weightless. Without another word, he marched back down the hill with the Prince slung over his shoulder, his hands swaying like they were lifeless. They really liked carrying people that way around here, didn’t they?

Slowly, the rest of the gathered fae began to make their way down the hill, but not before Lora returned with a furry cloak wrapped around her neck. She was still in her wolf form, but she was running so fast, the cloak never touched the ground, never slowed her down, never got tangled under her legs.

When she stopped, she panted, her tongue slipping out of her mouth. Ashera unclipped the cloak from around the wolf’s neck. It was large, and thick, and made of a patchwork of earthy colors; bigger than I was, in fact. Once she’d been freed of the cloak, Lora stood on two legs and made taking her human form