No, Grandfather, I said inwardly, I will avenge you. I promise.

  The pain was excruciating; I was bleeding profusely from my legs and underbelly. But as Paris reared up on his hind legs, snapping his teeth, ready to come in for the kill, I rolled over and dodged him. As I moved, I felt a force flooding through me, waves of anger and strength coming over me in turn.

  In the heat and the blood, I thought I heard my grandfather's voice.

  You are the stronger fighter, my child. You are the true warrior. Our Champion. Avenge me.

  With a roar I felled both Jacob and Paris, biting into them one last time until they slumped, exhausted, before me: they morphed back into humans at my feet, bleeding and panting.

  “Please,” Jacob cried. “Don't kill us! We surrender. We didn't mean to get involved in all of this...”

  As I looked at Jacob's terrified, tear-stained face, I remembered that he was my cousin. He was family. How could I kill a member of my own family – especially one who pleaded for mercy? Although I wanted nothing more than to ram my sword into his chest, I resisted the impulse.

  “Very well,” I said. “But you can live in Feyland no more. As the grandson of my grandfather, King of the Wolves, I lay claim now to my title – a title I have always held but have not truly earned until now. I am his heir and his avenger – the Wolf Prince. And as Wolf Prince I banish you from these lands. You must live out your days without magic in the Land Beyond the Crystal River.”

  “We submit,” said Jacob in a small voice, and after a pause Paris followed.

  “Do you swear a sacred oath, upon the most ancient magic, in the name of the most powerful Red Wolf, that you will leave Feyland tonight, and never return?”

  They nodded sheepishly.

  I took a deep breath. “Then I never want to see you again.”

  I could look at them no longer. I morphed back into my wolf form and ran on into the night.

  Chapter 7

  As I progressed further down the path, a house at last came into view. It was exactly the house Breena had described to me – a snow and bramble-covered hunting lodge with an ornately carved wood edifice. Horns of slaughtered Minotaurs were hung outside the house from twine – perhaps, I thought grimly, to scare away potential intruders like me. But I wasn't afraid. I was going to save Breena – the consequences be damned. I knew I was in deep, now. This was my last chance to run from this, to avoid getting sucked into the politics of the fairy war. Once I made a move against Kian, there was no going back. I'd end up in the middle between Winter and Summer – my wolves, too, would likely suffer the consequences. And yet I knew that I would rather risk death than let Breena fall into Kian's clutches.

  Breena. My heart started pounding faster as I approached the lodge. Could she really be there – just beyond the door? Her sweet, jasmine-like scent, her long silky hair, her shining eyes – I didn't realize how much I had missed them until just now. She was like oxygen, I thought; without her there was no breath, no life. Only darkness. I hungered for her as I had never hungered for anything before.

  I heard the sound of footsteps, and quickly ran to hide in the bushes. No use going in, proverbial guns blazing. I had to play it smart. Locate Breena, create a distraction for Kian, separate them for just long enough to carry Breena to safety. First, though, I had to ascertain whether Kian had any more guards at the house. If Pan had alerted Kian to the fact that a Wolf was after Breena, he might have doubled up on reinforcements.

  He had, it seemed, hired Jacob and Paris. I scowled at the thought. True Wolves didn't just follow the money, sniveling after fairy power. If they fought alongside Fey, they did so as equals, as my grandfather had done with the Duke, not as mere hired guns. But I couldn't expect power-hungry scoundrels like Jacob and Paris to know that. I glowered at the thought of them. Like Balthazar, they could easily be bought. They had no honor.

  I'd waited a long time to get revenge on Grandfather's killers. I'd waited to avenge his name. But now that I had defeated two of the wolves involved in his assassination, I felt emptier than ever. Defeating Jacob and Paris hadn't brought Grandfather back – if anything, it had only made me realize the enormity of my loss. My anger briefly quelled, my thirst for revenge briefly quenched, I was left alone only with my sadness.

  It had only just hit me how much I missed him.

  And I still hadn't managed to track down Balthazar, my greatest enemy of all. But there was no time to think about Balthazar now. I had to focus on Breena.

  And then I heard her voice. A loud sound – almost like a cry – coming from the yard behind the lodge. I morphed back to wolf form, treading as lightly as possible on the snow as possible. I couldn't risk being seen or heard before I was sure that Kian was acting alone.

  Her voice nearly paralyzed me. It had only been four days since I had last seen her, but it felt like a lifetime. I ached to hear it again.

  She cried out again, and I padded forth, peering out from behind a bush.

  And then I saw her.

  She wasn't crying out at all. She was laughing. She was sitting in the snow, having apparently fallen over, laughing as she tried in vain to get up, tripping and falling back down. The Prince was standing above her, offering her his hand.

  “You'll get it next time,” he was saying softly.

  “I tried to dodge,” Breena was sighing. “But this stupid rock, I didn't see it under all this snow.”

  The Prince handed her what looked like a staff. “Try again,” he said. “This time I'll start from the left. Remember, it's all in the wrist.”

  I looked up in shock. Breena didn't seem remotely terrified at all – indeed, she almost looked as if she liked the Prince. She clambered to her feet, her cheeks rosy and pink from the fresh cold air. “Very well,” she said. “But if you get defeated this time, your Highness, you have only yourself to blame.”

  As she stood I got my first good look at her. She was more beautiful than ever, I thought with a pang of regret. Feyland had clearly had an effect on her. She seemed older, somehow. More self-possessed. Womanly. Her muscles were taut and her face was more mature, more thoughtful. I thought back – what if Breena really was the Princess of Summer? As she stood before me, wiping strands of her dark hair out of her face, I could certainly believe it. No princess I had seen had ever looked more regal than Breena did as she took the staff from Kian and prepared to face off against him again.

  “Stand taller,” Kian barked. “You're going to be mincemeat for pixies if you go into a battle slouching like that.”

  She stood up taller.

  “No, like this.”

  Kian walked over to her, placing his broad arms around her narrow shoulders, adjusting her position. “See, you've got to get the angle right.” I could see Breena flush slightly with pleasure as he touched her; I could see her mouth part ever so slightly, her eyes close with desire. Did she care for him, I wondered hotly. This cruel Prince, this Prince who had dogged my nightmares for many a night now, whom I had prepared to fight, to kill – and she seemed to care for him?

  No, it could not be, I told myself. It had to be some kind of enchantment – some sort of trick. Perhaps Kian had glamoured her. But as I watched them mock-fight, watched the adrenaline course through both of them, watched their twinned desire, I knew that Breena was under no spell. This was Breena as I had always known her: headstrong, powerful. In control of herself.

  And in love with him.

  I knew there was no way of telling such a thing on first glance, but as soon as I saw Breena's face, I felt certain that it was true. Breena loved this icy Prince. In four days he had managed to do what I hadn't been able to do in a lifetime.

  What did he have that I didn't? He was handsome, to be sure, but in a pretty boy way – his shoulders were far less broad than mine, his air less rugged.

  Logan, you fool. She never loved you that way...it has nothing to do with his muscles, his face. It has to do with you.

  I glowered at the pair of them. My relief at Breena's relative safety was mingled with a pain so deep it seemed to gnaw away at my very soul.

  No, I thought – it couldn't be. Breena was just pretending – being friendly in order to ensure her safety and protection. Perhaps if she thought that the Prince took a liking to her, he would make sure that none of the other Winter fairies got to her.

  And he had taken a liking to her. That much was clear from the way he looked at her. As he stared into her face, his brilliant blue eyes opening wide with desire, he betrayed his hand: Kian adored Breena. He looked at her like nothing in the world existed except her smile.

  I knew that look well. I had often worn it myself.

  But I swallowed down my anger, my pain and jealousy. Breena was safe, that's what mattered. And once I got Kian alone, I'd be able to subdue him long enough for Breena and I to run to safety. We'd make it back across the Crystal River, we'd go back to Gregory...

  ...and then what? If Breena was a princess, if she was the princess, that meant responsibilities. That meant going back to Feyland, getting to the Summer Court, deciding to rule...

  And what fairy princess would ever deign to marry a lowly Wolf?

  “I'm going to go back inside for a moment,” said Kian. “Check on our stew – it's probably burnt by now.”

  He was making her stew?

  “I'll keep practicing alone!” Breena called after him cheerfully. Her eyes lingered on his form a little too long.

  Now was my chance. As quietly as I could, I stealthily ran through the bushes, following Kian as he made his way around the front of the house.

  As soon as he was alone, I pounced, snarling at him with rage that was more than perfunctory. He fell back into the snow, his eyes opening wide with surprise.

  But in an instant his hand was on his sword, and I had to morph back to human form in order to be able to grab my own dagger from my belt.

  “Are you here for the girl?” The Prince sneered. “You won't get her – she's my responsibility now, my problem.”

  “Your problem!” I cried. “That's my best friend you're talking about here.”

  “Friend or no, I'm charged with bringing her to the Winter Court. Fear not – your friend will not be harmed. If all goes well, she'll be returned to Summer, safe and sound.” Kian's sword clashed against mine.

  “And if it doesn't?”

  “I prefer not to think about that.”

  He was an expert swordsman, far more experienced than I. I found myself scrambling to keep up, constantly on the defensive as I blocked each of his blows.

  “You can't have her,” I cried.

  “She's safer with me than with anyone else in Feyland,” Kian said, knocking my sword out of my hand. “Not that it's any of your business, you impertinent little trespasser! How dare you even think of coming into my...”

  We were interrupted by a loud female scream, punctuated by a burst of yellow and green light. My heart seemed to stop. I knew that color well. It was pixie light.

  “Breena!” Kian and I both ceased our fighting, frozen in fear. Kian's eyes were wide with concern – I hated to admit it, but he was almost as worried about Breena as I was.

  We rushed back towards the yard, but it was too late. We caught only the echo of a glimpse – Breena's terrified face, her screams, a flash of light, Delano's bright, sharp, teeth – and then they were both gone.

  There was a terrible silence.

  Kian and I looked at each other in horror.

  Delano had taken Breena.

  Chapter 8

  Kian rounded on me. “You fool!” he roared, his face white with rage. “How could you have been so stupid – how could you have put her at risk like that?”

  “Me?” I gaped at Kian, astonished at his audacity. “I'm not the one who kidnapped her – I'm here to save her.”

  “And a fine lot of good you've been doing on those grounds.” Kian glowered at me. He ran over to where Breena had vanished. Only her footprints remained in the snow – a haunting reminder of where she had been just moments earlier. “Pixie footprints,” Kian knelt down to check. “Just as I suspected. Delano must have followed you here. Idiot!”

  “How dare you...”I began, but my heart sank as I knew Kian had spoken the truth. I had been so anxious to reach Breena before Kian moved her that I hadn't bothered to check if anyone was following me. If Kian spoke the truth, then Delano had most probably used me to get to Breena. And I'd left her alone – how could I have been so stupid!

  “I have to go after her,” Kian said sharply. “You stay here. Don't you dare move!”

  “Not a chance,” I said, taking a step forward and getting as assertively as I could into Kian's face. “She's my best friend. And I came here to save her, and I'm not leaving without her. You do what you want, but I'm going after Delano.”

  “Haven't you caused enough trouble already?” Kian snapped. “Go back to your little lair, Wolf, and leave fighting to us Fey.”

  I couldn't resist a snarl. Of course, in addition to being arrogant and cruel, Kian just had to be a Fey purist as well. It figured.

  “Unless you want this Wolf to give you a nice big juicy bite full of rabies,” I responded, my cheeks growing hot with anger, “I suggest you let me come along.”

  “Not a chance!” said Kian. “I'm not letting you anywhere near my hostage. At least not if I want to get her out of Delano's castle.”

  “His castle – you think that's where she is?”

  “He would have brought the Princess to his palace, yes,” said Kian with a sneer.

  “The Princess?” I looked up at Kian, my heart standing still. So it was true, then. Breena was the Princess of Summer, just as I had suspected.

  “Yes, the Princess,” Kian looked at me condescendingly. “Who else would I be talking about? You did know who she was, didn't you?”

  “Of course I did,” I snapped. “Now, let's quit wasting time. If Breena's in Delano's hands she's in danger – and we need to head to the castle as soon as possible!”

  “Not so fast!” A cry came from behind us. We turned around to spy with horror fifty or so pixies marching in battle formation. At the head of the army was a particularly grim-looking pixie with yellow eyes and a jeering mouth. “The King Delano of the Pixies sends his regards. And he wishes us to inform you that he'd rather not be disturbed as he gets to know his new prisoner, thank you very much.”

  “Rather not be disturbed!” Kian cried. “The blackguard! We'll cut that treacherous animal's heart out and stick it down his throat!”

  “The King did warn us that you'd say that,” the pixie frowned. “But no matter. That's why he sent us here to kill you.”

  At that, all fifty pixies drew their swords from their sheaths.

  Kian and I looked at each other. As much as we disliked each other, we were going to have to work together if we wanted to get out of this alive. And as much as I hated seeing Breena in Kian's arms, thinking of her in Delano's clutches was far worse.

  “You take the left,” I whispered to Kian. “And I'll take the right.”

  The first wave of pixies ran towards us, their swords charged.

  “Back to back,” Kian cried, placing his back against mine. We fought off the first set of pixies easily enough. Kian was a fine swordsman – it was more evident now than it had been when he was facing off against me – and one by one he managed to run his sword through each pixie that approached. I too was fighting furiously, feeling a curious if sickening sense of glee as I slaughtered each oncoming pixie.

  These bastards took Breena, I couldn't stop thinking. They all deserve to die.

  And yet I was sickened by the ease I displayed in killing. One by one, the pixies fell at my feet; my sword was stained with their blood. Yet I could allow myself to experience no emotions, no regret. This was my first big battle – my first slaughter. And I had to shut down that part of myself that looked down in horror at every head I severed, every hand run through with the point of my sword.

  “There's too many of them,” Kian was gasping.

  We fought for what seemed like hours. Every time we thought we'd managed to escape, outrunning what we thought were the last few remaining stragglers, another wave of pixies descended upon us. My wounds still ached from my battle with Jacob and Paris, and Kian too was growing tired.

  “Where are they coming from?” Kian spluttered as we ran into what seemed like an empty grove, only to be surrounded once more by a ring of pixies.

  “It's like they're appearing out of nowhere,” I looked around in horror.

  None of the pixies was a particularly good fighter, but combined they made a terrifying force. They may not have been able to out-duel us, but in these numbers they could certainly wear us down. Was this Delano's plan, I thought with horror – sending what seemed like thousands of men on a suicide mission in order to exhaust us? I knew that the pixie ways in battle were far from chivalrous – I didn't put it past Delano to deliberately sacrifice his own men in this way. Certainly, it was clear that he valued Breena enough to risk thousands of his soldiers if it meant a chance at keeping her.

  “We're not going to manage much longer,” Kian sighed. “I'm starting to get tired – I can't hold off too many more. I don't understand where they keep coming from.” We had just finished killing off the latest round of pixies, but we knew more would appear.

  If Kian was tired, I was exhausted. My injuries were already serious, and it was clear to me that, as much as I hated to admit it, I wasn't half the swordsman that Kian was.

  But then I sniffed the air. And it hit me. The scent of pixie was strong, overpoweringly so. No pixies were visible, but I could sense their palpable presence.

  “Kian,” I whispered, hissing under my breath. “They're in the trees. They are the trees.”

  He looked up in confusion. “What?”

  “They've glamoured into trees. They're hiding – waiting to catch us off guard.”