so beautifully to my icy rage. She didn't shrink away in fear. Wasn’t deterred by it. She rose to my challenges and made me want to pin her down and show her just what I could do to her to make her submit to my will.
"Sorrell," Roan barked.
I blinked and realized the ice had reached up to my forearms and small dustings of snow were falling from the edges of my hair. With a jerk, I reached up and shoved my fingers through the strands, stripping away the snow and letting the ice fall to the floor and melt beneath my boots.
"You want her," Roan said. "Admit it."
I stiffened. "Why is this so Gods damned important to you?" I growled.
"Because hiding from your feelings will only serve to destroy you later," he answered. "Of anyone in this world, the three of us should know that best, don't you think?"
Words escaped me. I could not tell him he was wrong. It would be a lie, and yet, I wasn't ready to admit to anything that had to do with the Changeling. The longer Roan waited, the more frustrated he became until small little tendrils of smoke began to seep from his hair. He huffed out a breath and turned away just as a small flame erupted.
He didn't appear to even be aware of his movements as he reached up and patted it out. "You'll regret your obstinance, Brother," he snapped. "Gods help you, but I hope you cave soon. Don't think I haven't noticed how you haven't touched another Fae female since she arrived. We need to be restored and if the only one you're willing to let help you is her, then I truly hope you pull your head out of your ass soon and realize what she means to you, or risk her hatred. The choice is yours." With that, he stormed for the exit, opened the door, and left.
I sank into a nearby chair as the library doors clanged shut behind him. My head sank back and I found myself staring up into the ceiling. Was he right? I wondered. Of course, he was. The Changeling had altered everything. She'd fallen into our world and had wrecked all of our well laid plans to master each of our magics, end the war, and take our places as Kings.
Maybe it appeared that I hated her now, but my feelings were as far from hatred as they could possibly be. Anger—yes, I felt anger. At myself. For wanting her. For desiring her. And then I felt it towards them. That was what made me feel the deepest guilt. I was angry at my friends, my throne brothers—the only men who had ever gained my trust and kept it—because they wanted her, they felt no need to hide it or fight it, and because of that, they had her.
Right now, I had no doubt that Orion was fucking the Changeling. Bringing her to orgasm over and over again. Giving her the very same pleasure I wanted to pull from that fragile looking body of hers. I was in trouble. She had wormed her little self between the three of us, but I wondered … briefly … if maybe it wasn't to pull us apart, but to seal us even closer together. With her between the three of us, there would be no power in the world that could separate us.
An idea popped into my head, and as I sat there, my mind gave it life. We Fae were weakened when separated. In our individual Courts meant to give power to no one great entity, but what if the Courts were brought together? What if all of Faekind could be ruled under one entity. Not a King, but perhaps a Court of Kings?
I sighed and I shifted back, my hand falling over the side of the chair to bang into something beneath the table at my side. I jerked and looked down, finding a familiar instrument. With a frown, I reached beneath the table and sought out what I'd seen, and when I pulled my hand free, in it was an old violin I hadn't seen in ages.
"What the—"
"I see you've finally found it." Groffet's words made me jump from my chair and whirl around.
"Groffet," I gritted his name out through clenched teeth. "Do not sneak up on me, you insolent troll!"
He stared back at me over the wide bridge of his nose and huffed. "Do not be angry at me, young