Page 34 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
Cadan had helped me… but fae never helped someone just for the sake of it.
Yet he hadn’t forced a bargain from me in exchange for the salve. And hadn’t Celestine been friendly and warm towards me?
Maybe I’d been wrong about fae… except for the prince.
He was exactly the monster I’d always known, and today he’d shown me his true colours.
15
The salve worked a charm, and a bath soon had my body regulated against troubling temperature changes and reactions. When I emerged, the prince was pacing his bedroom.
“You took your damn time.” He scowled at my wet hair wound in a towel on top of my head. “And you needn’t bother to dress up. The ball is cancelled.” He strode for the door. “Come.”
“But I’m not—”
“I saidcome.” A growl laced his words, silencing me, and I hurried after him into the corridor, even though I was only wearing a dressing gown. I hadn’t even replaced my collar.
His steps were clipped. His movements when we reached a door and he pulled it open were jerky and staccato rather than smooth with a hunter’s grace.
I knew the route to Celestine’s rooms by now, but it had never filled me with such trepidation before. In the space of a week I’d grown used to a routine and, apparently, the prince’s manner. This switch in him was as stark a contrast as charcoal scrawled on a white page. What had him so on edge?
He didn’t knock before he opened the door, and Celestine wasn’t on her settee. The fae lights in the sitting room drifted, little brighter than match flames. Without hesitation, he swept into her bedroom. I trailed, footsteps slowing as I entered the dimly lit chamber.
“Celestine?” His voice… I’d never heard it this soft—thisgentle. Where he’d murmured to me earlier, against the tree, it had been quiet but edged with the threat of teeth and claws, the promise of suffering and death. None of that laced his voice now.
“Seph?”
As a couple of servants scattered from the room, he strode to the bed and knelt at its side. Without him blocking my view, I could see Celestine lying upon it.
If I’d thought her pale before, I was mistaken. Her skin was beyond pale now, edging into grey. Sweat beaded her brow, plastering her hair. Her eyes gleamed, glassy and bright.
Stomach plummeting, I crossed the room and stopped at the foot of the bed. I gripped the bedpost, like that could settle the ill-feeling rocking through me.
She’d seemed fine yesterday. A little tired, perhaps. Now, her hand cradled in Sepher’s looked small and frail, like a songbird, her skin papery and thin.
He stroked her knuckles. “I got here as soon as I could.” He gave her a tight smile and didn’t even throw me a glare for unwittingly holding him up. “They said you were unwell, but I didn’t realise…” His brows lowered and he shook his head as he felt her brow. “Shit. You’re burning up. You should’ve sent for me sooner.”
“Sent for you?” She huffed out a breath. “Even I don’t send for a prince. Besides, I didn’t want to interrupt your ball preparation.”
“The ball’s cancelled.”
“But it was meant to…” The sentence dissolved into coughing.
“Water,” he muttered, starting to rise.
“I’ve got it.” I grabbed a jug and glass from a side table.
Exhaling, he sank back to his knees and helped Celestine to sit up. One arm around her shoulders, he propped her up while I held the glass to her lips. She took a few sips before pulling away and catching her breath.
She gave me a white-lipped smile. “You brought Zita. Lovely thing.”
He made a low sound, like he wasn’t happy about it. Expression hard and tight, he busied himself dipping a cloth into a bowl on the nightstand and wringing it out before mopping her brow and cheeks.
“Oh, that’s nice,” she sighed, eyelids easing shut. “But,” she went on as he helped her lie back down, “I really think you should go and have your party.”
“Well I don’t.” The words came out clipped and gravelly, like he said them between gritted teeth.
She opened one eye. “And I suppose it’ll be a waste of time arguing with you, won’t it?”
