Reign (An Unfortunate Fairy Tale 4)

The knives never made contact.

Mina waited a few seconds, opened her eyes, and dropped her hands to see the steely knives suspended in midair, mere inches from her face. Unwilling to take any chances, in case they continued on their trajectory she sidestepped the knives.

Her mouth was dry and her heart felt like it was beating a path out of her chest.

Wailing began behind her, and she turned to see that—of the six girls left—four of them had broken down into sobbing piles of color on the floor. It seemed they no longer cared about wrinkling their dresses. The two not crying were pale in the face, and one looked like she was going to toss her cookies at any moment.

“Are you all right?’ Teague came to stand next to her, his face full of concern. Two giants had grabbed Ferah and were now holding her in a kneeling position in the middle of the room. King Lucian and Queen Maeve materialized and stood in front of the young assassin. She had quit fighting and seemed to be slowly accepting her fate.

“I’m fine. Just a little shaken up,” Mina answered Teague. Her body was humming from head to toe, and she tried to get her emotions under control. “That was a little too close a call.”

“You defended me.” He smiled, one corner of his mouth lifting in a bit of a smirk. “Not that I needed your help. But I think it’s kind of cute.” He crossed his arms and continued smirking at her.

Which only irritated her. Here was the snarky Jared-side she was used to dealing with. “Well, I don’t know. You could have been distracted by all of the pretty skirts in the room. Who knows where your mind was?”

“Skirts? Why would the material of their dresses be distracting? I can tell you that I’m in no way interested in what they are wearing. Who’s wearing it is what matters.” He raised his eyebrow, and Mina rolled her eyes.

“You can calm down now. The danger is over,” he added.

“I know that,” she huffed.

“Well maybe you do, but my parents not so much.” He gestured with his chin to the Fates who were looking their way very pointedly. They were obviously still worried and upset about something, and it looked like it was Mina.

“What’s going on?” she asked. Apprehension rose within her once again. “Why do they seem angry?”

“It could be because they see you as a threat.”

“Me? A threat? I haven’t done anything,” her voice rose in fear. Had they somehow figured out why she was here?

“Well, you’re the one who is armed.”

“What?” She couldn’t breathe.

Teague shook his head, reached out, and grasped her forearms roughly. Mina winced from the pressure and started to panic, pulling away from him.

“You have about ten seconds to calm down and release the knives from whatever spell you control them with, or the Fates will have no choice but to dispose of you, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Knives?” She snapped out of her reverie and eyed the two knives that were still suspended in midair.

“Yes. Knives. Right now you are holding a weapon in the midst of the Royals. It’s treason. Unless you drop it, your punishment is death.”

“I didn’t know. I don’t know if I can. I’m not sure how I stopped them there in the first place.” The words jumbled out of Mina’s mouth and she could feel herself beginning to lose control. She was the one who’d stopped the knives? It was her? How?

Teague shook her roughly, and her knees knocked together. Over his shoulder she saw the large double doors open, and more Fae guards entered with swords drawn. They circled around Mina and Teague but kept their distance. The knives slowly turned toward Mina again, making Teague’s back the perfect target now.

Fear was making her freeze up. Her eyes started to water. She didn’t know how she stopped the knives, and if she couldn’t undo it, she would be killed right here on the spot. It was instinct on the human plane when she’d pushed Nan and Ever out of the way of the truck. It was instinct that made her try and save herself here.

It wasn’t instinct to stop doing what was coming naturally and unbidden.

“Help me,” she breathed out as a tear escaped down her cheek. She was desperate. “I don’t want to die.”

He looked a little irritated at her lack of understanding, but he seemed to see her fear as genuine. When he realized she couldn’t do it, he jumped into action.

“Look at me.” He pressed on her arms and she struggled to drag her eyes away from the soldiers and their swords.

“Look. At. Me,” he demanded again, but slower.