‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.

He brought his index finger to his lips, and she nodded.

Rhythmic thumps came from behind. Heavy footsteps.

Bethan dared to find the source of those steps. Three hooded figures dressed in crimson cloaks stood at the top of the street. She tightened the grip on his arm.

‘Kellan,’ she whispered.

‘Focus on leading us out. I will deal with them.’

His eyes darkened, reaching behind himself.

‘There is an alleyway through there,’ she said, pointing at its entrance.

The fae shook his head, clicking his tongue.

‘I’d prefer, if we go somewhere with groups of people. Witnesses,’ he said.

Those footsteps quickened. Her chest constricted, and the end of the street approached.

And those hooded figures broke into a run.

‘Kellan, what if they have guns?’

‘I’ll deal with it,’ he snapped. ‘Hide behind that bin.’

She moved toward the industrial bin and crouched. Kellan launched on those figures with a dagger in hand. A golden light reflected on the pure white snow.

Someone yelled an enchantment. A greying mist followed in its wake.

The dagger shot from Kellan’s hand, wedging itself into a wall.

Kellan laughed. ‘I thought witches played fairly.’

Whoever they were, their assailants didn’t reply to her prince’s taunts. Bethan didn’t dare to move; she was frozen as the ice in Mermaid Harbour. She needed to catch a glimpse. Perhaps he needed another set of eyes to guard his back. She wanted him to know he wasn’t alone in this.

Bethan peeked out from the corner. The three men circled Kellan like predators.

His glorious eyes darted at each one, up and down. Bethan knew what he was doing. He did it when he first met her: assessing.

The one on the left of him took a swing. Kellan was already on the attack, slamming his entire body into the man.

He toppled over while Kellan stayed upright and moved to the next one. It was only a matter of seconds before he got back up, and Kellan would, again, be in an unfair fight.

Bethan cursed herself.

Edging carefully around the bin, she reached for the abandoned dagger wedged in the brick. She unsheathed it.

After calling out Kellan’s name, his body turned; darkness lurked in his eyes, something other than sharp focus.

The other two men remained standing turned with him, a flash of a smile underneath their hoods. It all became clear that it was, in fact, her they wanted. And Kellan wasn’t going to let it happen.

She tossed him the dagger, he effortlessly caught it by the hilt.

‘Our masters will be so pleased with us.’ One taunted; he was taller than the other two. The man Kellan slammed to the ground hood had slipped, revealing a mop of blonde hair and a freckled face.

Bethan scanned the man, seeing if she could recognise him.

He couldn’t have been older than twenty.

‘Who are those masters you speak so highly of?’