Five cloaked and masked creatures spread out in a semicircle in front of us, cornering us like foxes to chickens. My heart thundered in my throat. They were ghostly in appearance, smoke billowing from their spindly frames like a sinister aura, and the longer I stared, the more intense the chill creeping down my spine got. It was a species I didn’t recognize from my books, not that I was in any condition to recall it, even if I had read about them. I was too busy observing their calculated steps, remembering how to breathe, and cursing myself for being at fault to really focus on the particulars.

Barely a day into our journey and we were being surrounded in the woods between the market and the tavern where we’d planned to spend the night—great start to any road trip. I was no seer, but I should have seen it coming. How silly it was of me to even hope that reaching Rosewood Creek safely and without incident was a possibility. I’d felt queasy about the whole thing since we’d left. If only I’d treated that feeling as a warning, Cair wouldn’t be standing in front of me, his wings unfurled from his back and fangs bared in a threatening snarl, protecting me from advancing predators.

Why didn’t I say anything?

He was one Fae against five beings I didn’t know anything about. Cair was strong, and he had a ward shielding him, but what if they were outsiders? What if they had powers he couldn’t withstand, and I had unwittingly put him in the firing line? He had no weapons, only his fists and his fangs, while they all brandished swords, daggers, or claws. I hated that fear was gluing me to the spot. Instead of the usual flood of defensive instincts overriding the panic, my self-preservation had taken a stance, forcing me to cower.

It chose its moment.

“Stand down,” Cair warned, his voice lowered to a deadly pitch I’d never heard before. It was petrifying, and my body reacted with a shiver. “I am your prince and⁠—”

The figure at the head of the group laughed, a distorted sound that served as another reminder that they weren’t human. “We don’t care who you are, princeling,” it hissed behind its gold mask. “Nor are we here for you.”

Its eyes were shrouded by the lip of its hood, but I felt it stare straight at me, those words settling like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach.

They were here for me.

They stepped forward again, and Cair’s wings twitched in agitation. “You will die before I let you touch him.”

Its smirk was hidden, but the intention was clear as day when it said, “We’ll see.”