Page 106 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
And I loved the way he wrapped around me, arms, legs, and tail, even though I didn’t deserve it.
He nuzzled into my neck. “A million things took your sister to that alleyway, Zita,” he murmured against my skin. “But even if there had only been one, even if you were the sole reason she was there, it still wouldn’t be your fault.”
I jerked back, but he held tight. “But I—”
“Do not speak when your prince is explaining, love. Especially not when it’s something you need to hear.” He pulled away just enough to press his forehead to mine, our noses brushing. “Your sister contributed to her being there that night. Do you blame her for what happened?”
He might as well have gripped my throat. I tried to gasp but couldn’t. It was like my lungs had forgotten how to work.
“Was it her fault? Did she deserve it?”
My heart hadn’t forgotten anything, though. It rammed against my ribcage, not caring that it broke a little more with each strike.
“Did she get what was coming to her? Was she asking for it?”
“No.” The word cracked from me, a shard of scintillating pain that pushed tears to my eyes. “No.”
I felt his frown against my brow as it darkened his eyes. I tried to pull away from it, because I had a horrible feeling about where it was leading. And I wasn’t sure that, even after all these years, it was somewhere I was prepared to follow.
He gripped my hair, clamping me in place. “If you wouldn’t blame her, an adult, why the hells would you blame yourself when you were a child—a fucking child, Zita?”
I opened my mouth to answer.
But I couldn’t.
To blame Zinnia for what had been done to her was monstrous. Unthinkable.
To blame the little girl I’d cursed for what I’d done to her was equally unfathomable.
But to blame the little girl I’d once been for an accident—a terrible, terrible accident…
She looked up at me. Brown hair dull and tangled. Small for her age and skinny, in tattered clothes. She lived for those rare days when we got to play—like the one by the riverside. The rest of her time was spent begging or running messages for tiny copper coins.
She never meant to curse that little girl. She hadn’t known that was a thing she could do, never mind that it would lead her and Zinnia along a path that ended in one of Elfhame’s dark alleys.
How could she?
He caught my tears with his thumbs. “Do you see, now? Do you see how monumentally untrue the story you’ve been telling yourself all these years is? Do you see the lie in it?”
I did. Good fucking gods, I did.
He couldn’t keep up with my tears. They covered my cheeks and chin. They dripped onto his chest. They burned my eyes and salted my tongue.
But there was something cleansing in salt and fire.
When I managed to nod, he pulled me close and squeezed so tight it was like he could make us one through sheer force of will.
“There is only one person to blame for what happened that night. And tomorrow, you will find him, and you will kill him.”
It was the most comforting thing he could’ve said. I sank into it, letting his arms claim me, letting him hold the truth of it around my body while I fought to believe it.
After a long while, once the fae lights had dimmed to just one, I shook my head at him. “I don’t know why I told you all that.”
His teeth gleamed in the darkness. “I do.” And he looked terribly smug about it.
I thought perhaps I did too. Why else would I tell someone a story I’d never spoken to a single soul—admit a weight I’d never dared utter out loud?
Yet, I couldn’t force my tongue to form the words.
