Page 88 of The Mage and His Stolen Prince
“I don’t have one.”
Activity around the campfire halted. The orange firelight reflected off Fitz’s glasses, hiding his eyes, but it couldn’t hide his stunned expression. His mouth worked up and down like a fish blowing bubbles before he asked, “What do you mean you don’t have a family name?”
“Wilde is the only name I have.” It’d been hard enough to find one name I liked for myself, I wasn’t going to waste the effort on trying to think of two. Besides, evil mages didn’t need names once they earned a title.
Fitz cleared his throat awkwardly. “I suppose it’s a memorable enough name that if wehadmet before, I wouldn’t forget it.”
Crisis averted, I turned away from him—
“That still doesn’t explain your argument,” Maximus said.
My lips pursed in displeasure. This problem would be so much easier to solve if I could reset time back to before we’d had that argument at all.
“We had a one-night stand a few years ago,” Trey said.
Everyone turned to stare at him in shock—including me.
“I was a stupid kid who fucked him and left before sunrise. Since I did that shit a lot at eighteen, I forgot about it.”
Everyone forgot about the ghost of memories from dead timelines as they tried and failed to process this blunt reveal. Trey had a special talent for derailing a conversation by spouting the most outlandish, personal information possible. Even I was stuck on the confession, wondering which parts of his past were true, and which parts were made up solely to hide our relationship. I knew he remembered bits and pieces from the other timelines—more than Fitz, less than Delilah—but it only seemed to be enough to taunt me with what we’d both lost.
Angelica recovered first with a snort of disgust. “That sounds like something you would do.”
Trey locked eyes with me and his voice lowered into an intimate promise. “I won’t ever forget you again.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Trey
The Next Day
The Not-So-Grimnight Forest
On a Surprisingly Pleasant Hike
“I’m bored,” Delilah complained as she dragged her feet through the leaf strewn ground. “This place isboring.”
“Do youwantto be attacked by monsters?” Angelica demanded. “Because I would much rather have a nice, uneventful journey to the Lord of Grimnight’s Lair, thank you very much. It will help us conserve our energy.”
“It’s not that Iwantmonsters,” Delilah said. “But I waspromisedmonsters, so it’s a bit disappointing that all we’ve gotten so far are chatty squirrels.” She raised narrowed eyes to one such squirrel, who was currently scolding us for tromping through its territory.
“It isn’t very questlike,” Fitz said, adjusting his glasses, as if he might spot some much-anticipated danger if they were simply at the correct angle. “There should be some obstacles, shouldn’t there? Patrols, traps, monsters. Not just … walking.”
While they complained, I angled my steps to naturally bring myself closer to Wilde. He was avoiding me again. I’d thought after declaring myself in front of the others, he would finally relax, talk to me, share parts of himself with me. Instead, it felt like every step I took forward, he’d teleport ten feet away from me. Thankfully not literally—but from theway he sometimes tensed, his edges flickering in and out of focus, he was barely resisting the urge.
“Stop it,” he snapped, his voice low and gaze locked ahead.
“Stop what?” I asked.
“Looking at me.”
“Am I not allowed to look?”
He’d tied back his hair, exposing the pale nape of his neck. A few white strands had escaped the tie, brushing against his cheeks. Every few minutes, he tucked it behind his ear, but it never stayed put for long.
Poor Wilde, even his hair won’t obey him.
“Not like that,” he finally answered, his voice so soft I barely heard him. Then he quickened his steps to catch up with Delilah.
She preened at him and declared, “Let’s play a game!”
