Page 119 of The Hidden Fae Prince
“This is a matter of alliances,” Gevain says, drawing closer. “Secure your throne and play with your guardian all you like. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Gevain’s words are so sweet, so insidious. Seren considers the idea against his will. A future with Gevain at his side and Nevander in his shadow. Seren could halve the burden of rule, while keeping Nevander as his respite.
Fae are much more open-minded than the people of Wymond. Seren wouldn’t have to hide. He could dance with Nevander. Kiss him under moonlit flowers. Retreat to the Spiritwood treehouse, frolic with the pixies, discover all the wonders of the realm and each other.
They could strive to forget that Seren belonged to someone else.
No. Seren can’t do that to Nevander. He can’t do that to Elladar either, because he doesn’t trust this manipulative asshole to rule with kindness.
Most of all, Seren can’t do that to himself.
Gevain stops two steps above him, one hand outstretched. “Being overwhelmed is understandable, Your Highness. Let me ease your burdens.”
Seren locks eyes with Tansy, whose bloodstained face is now wet with tears.
“I’m sorry,” Tansy whispers. “I’m not actually all right with the fingers thing. Can you just agree to whatever?”
“Nevander is a good man,” Gevain says, with such sweet understanding. “But so stubborn. You could protect him.”
Another choice that’s not a choice. Gevain must need Seren’s consent for a lifebond, or he wouldn’t seek it. He’s engineered this trap to force Seren into agreement. He’s cut Seren away from all his allies. Weapons. Answers.
Fine. Seren doesn’t need any of those. He’s done being yanked around, and he’s done with desperation.
It’s time for anger.
Seren looks into Tansy’s bloodshot eyes. “I’ve been very annoyed with you. Because you’ve been fucking annoying—and because I care about you.” Glaring up at Gevain, Seren names his emotions like a ritual. “I’m scared of this world because I care so much about it, and I’m afraid it doesn’t care about me.”
Gevain’s brow furrows, like he senses the storm beneath Seren’s skin.
“I’m furious with Nevander, because I love him.” Truth forces past Seren’s lips like flowers and thorns. “Because it’s easier than admitting I’m angry with myself.”
“What are you doing?” Gevain demands.
“I’m done turning all that anger inward,” Seren says, with a savage smile. “And I don’t care foryouat all.”
Anger and hurt and betrayal and love pour out like rain, like fire. Everything Seren’s ever bottled up. Other people’s pain and his own. The very air gleams with power.
Seren’s lungs seize in a silent, ecstatic scream. He falters, losing his balance. No, that’s the haven itself shaking. The pavilion atop the dais screeches sideways. Tansy shrieks as a lantern shatters.
Tansy’s afraid, and Seren regrets that, but that same regret only joins the maelstrom of emotion. He directs thesharpest blades at Gevain. Only splinters of empathy strike Tansy.
Gevain staggers, trying to shore up his crumbling mental control. His blade vanishes into sparks, and his eyes are wide. “Stop this.”
Clutching the trellis for support, Seren asks, “What happens to a haven when its master dies?”
“You won’t find out,” Gevain snarls.
Seren laughs, giddy, and crushes Gevain’s shield like an eggshell. Ambition still burns beneath the panic. Disbelief rooted in superiority. Gevain believed Seren was less than him.
He doesn’t believe that anymore.
Seren relishes the acrid taste of Gevain’s fear. It isn’t kind. Seren would hate for Nevander to see him now. He just wants Gevain to feel what he feels. Suffer. Understand. Regret.
A glass pavilion crashes in on itself. Waves slap the edges of the courtyard. The sky dims, and past it, Seren feels—
Gevain’s fist collides with his face.
Seren crumples. Physical pain is a distant echo, hot above his cheekbone, scraping his shoulder through the silk and lace. Far more painful is the sudden rush of yearning. Gevain’s boot drives into his side, and Seren wishes desperately he wasn’t alone.
