Rage (Her Monsters Book One) - K.A Knight Page 0,112

colours sparkle from him. Many would be mesmerized but I simply wait for him to finish.

His chuckles die off as the door opens and in sweeps Isla. Her red hair frames her beautiful face, and she has grown as well since I last saw her. Now she is a woman. Her skinny body has filled out and she has curves, but she is still nothing compared to my little monster.

Her maroon dress is tight around her upper body and cascades in waterfalls behind her, and when I hear a quiet inhale, I look over at Ashera. Interesting. He is watching her, his eyes seemingly unable to pull away. Blinking, he drags his gaze away almost reluctantly and meets mine. His face hardens, daring me to mention his perusal of the princess, so I simply wink. I see his lips twitch before I face the king again. I stand and bow.

“Princess Isla, as beautiful as ever,” I greet formally and she laughs, the sound similar to her father’s.

“Cernunnos, you flatter me. Please, call me Isla, are we not old friends?” she teases before sitting next to her father.

He arches a brow at her and leans over, his finger trailing across her ear and coming away red with blood. She bites her lip as her mismatched eyes—one blue and one green—dance in amusement. “Up to trouble again?” he asks.

“Me? Never father, the very thought,” she quips.

When she crossed her leg, flashing skin, like her father I laugh. She has never been a normal Fae lady, in fact, most hate her for her spirit and confidence. She can talk politics with the best and wrap them around her finger, but she is also a warrior. She grew up with a dagger in her hand. Her father indulged it when she was younger because the court found it cute, but as she grew up he ordered for it to stop and, as Isla called it, ‘princess lessons’ to begin. I remember when I visited during that time of her life, she used to hide her hair, wear baggy clothing, and pretend to be a recruit to take part in the warrior training.

Once Bayard realised it would not stop her, he reluctantly allowed her to do both, much to the chagrin of the fae nobles. In their mind, a princess should be nothing more than a figurehead. In fact, many are wishing for the land to chose another, not that it will ever happen, but they do not know that. They do not know we already tested her, and the connection was even stronger than her father’s—at both courts.

A princess, born of two bloods, during a time of great war. It makes sense she should be a warrior.

“Did I miss anything?” she inquires.

“Only that Nos has a mate,” Bayard answers, and her eyes widen and swing to mine, showing genuine happiness in her gaze. I had watched this child grow, her father himself named me Uncle. Another thing which annoyed the court, but I still think of her as family, maybe even the child I never had.

“Truly?” she gushes, almost bouncing in her seat.

I nod and a smile breaks out as she laughs again. “It’s about time old man, what is she like? She must be amazing to handle such a grumpy man,” she teases and I hear Ashera snort.

“Isla,” Bayard warns, but you can even hear the amusement in his voice. He has never been able to control her and he never will.

“She’s amazing, a skinwalker. Very powerful and a warrior,” I boast.

“She fights?” Isla asks, and I can tell she loves her already.

“Of course, in fact I think she could probably beat me. She can be quite scary when she wants to be. That is why I am afraid this meeting must be quick. She is very independent and is currently taking on a crime ring selling women...women both human and supernatural,” I say sadly.

They both gasp, sitting back, but when they trade looks I know they aren’t as shocked as they should be. “Bayard,” I growl, sitting forward.

He sighs, and I truly look at him again. Under the power and sunshine, he looks weary. “What you felt on your land is not the first. Somehow, we do not know how, fae are disappearing, all women. We have tried to hunt the source, but we have been unable to. That is why this meeting is so important, my old friend. Our people are disappearing without a trace, from both courts, and no one