"Yup. What are you going to do about it?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow at her in challenge.
Her eyes seemed to darken, and I swore she shivered at my words. I could feel myself harden, and I had to physically imagine myself being rooted to the spot to stop myself from walking over to her.
"I don't know, I might have to ban you from speaking by royal decree," she joked, looking at me cockily.
God, did she look good with that look on her face.
"Punish me? Sounds hot," I said, my voice filled with heat.
I cursed and looked away from her. She moved closer, and I took a step back. Hurt coloured her features, and I cast her an apologetic look. "Sorry, I have my reasons for needing my distance."
"Is it your curse?" she asked me, tilting her head in a manner I could only describe as adorable.
"No, it's not," I said, and it was true.
"Then what is it? Since I laid eyes on you three, a force I couldn't control has been drawing me to you, and I have been trying to ignore it, but I know you feel it too. You all do," she insisted.
I sighed and looked at my feet. Yeah, I knew my non-blood brothers could feel it. That was the only reason Quill would have touched her, but it wasn't for me to say right now.
"Look, whatever you feel is one-sided. We have an agreement to look after you, to train you to manage your curse, then we get our freedom. We don't need to sleep with you to do that. Besides, I thought princesses would have better manners than to try to sleep with people they just met."
She growled and clenched both hands around the material of her dress. "Screw you," she spat, her eyes glowing with untapped power. "I'm not the loose woman that you seem to imply. I am a princess, and I didn't say anything about sleeping with you."
I opened my mouth to say something, but the gravity around us grew more intense. Whips of moonlight and starlight flickered around us, and the air was whipped up into a hurricane as it stormed around us. I cursed, correctly identifying that I had triggered her curse. Her magic raged around us with all the anger of the old gods. I tried to think of a way to help her, but the magic grew stronger as it whipped around us.
I opened my mouth to speak, but she let out an ear-piercing scream and fell to her knees. She screamed in pure agony, as if someone was pouring burning lava down her throat. I tried to move over to her, but the pressure was so intense I couldn't even move a muscle.
"Princess Fayanna! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to imply that. I know that you're not like that, and I'm sorry if I upset you. You're stronger than your curse. You can overcome this," I cried out to her, trying to keep my voice level and even.
She let out another ear-piercing scream, and I gritted my teeth. I glanced to the side and saw my two friends standing there, directly out of the eye of the storm. I managed to meet their eyes and then glanced at the girl in front of me. I didn't want to do this, but I knew it was the only option to get her to stop.
"Do it!" I screamed at them.
Quill's eyes turned sorrowful, but he nodded. I watched as a bolt of pink magic flew at her, and she let out another scream before falling limp. The magic raged for a while, as if it had a life of its own. Slowly, it started to chip away, but I could feel its anger and rage as it slowly dissipated. When it was finally gone, I sprinted over to her and pulled her into my lap.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered to her, hanging my head.
"What happened?" Rafferty asked me, suspicion in his gaze.
I looked up at him, my eyes filled with sadness. "I implied that I didn't feel the connection that she did, and I implied that she wanted to sleep with us and that we weren't about that."
Quillon hissed in a breath and looked at me with disappointment. "Why would you say that? It's obvious all three of us are drawn to her."
I hung my head. I knew why I said that. I was thinking of my ex-wife, who passed away ten years ago, and the guilt that was eating away at me for not being able to save her. I felt guilty that I had such a spark for someone else. I was trying to push Fayanna away because I knew I wasn't the right person for her. I wasn't the right person for anyone. Everyone deserved better than me.
Quillon must have read my mind because he sighed deeply. "You deserve good things. It's not your fault that she was killed."
"It was. I was out drinking instead of being at home with her. I should've been there," I said.
"Maybe the reason you weren't there was because you would've died, and you never would've met Fayanna?" Rafferty said.
I sighed and nodded. Maybe that was true. My wife and I were in an arranged marriage, but I still remembered the way her father looked at me at the funeral. He blamed me, as he should. I still blamed myself.
Fayanna stirred and looked up at me with bleary, grassy green eyes. When she saw me, a smile broke out across her stunning face. Her white-blond hair spilt around her shoulders like milk. "You're beautiful," she whispered, before her expression twisted into horror.
"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I?—"
"You're okay. I shouldn't have said those things. You're stunning," I said simply.