➸ Bellator Pulcher, Princeps Saeva
They were supposed to be back by now. What had begun as an adventure—a joke, really—now spiraled out of control. And it was all Idal’s fault. Ingmar wanted to return home, back to their palaces and their prestige, their delicacies and their women. Ingmar had quickly lost any sense of romance about this new land as soon as massive moose antlers split from his skull. He desperately wanted to leave Blossom Forest behind . . . knowing that the addition of this appendages would bring their share of questions and awe from their many adoring subjects. True, his antlers had their advantages; they did not slow him when he hunted, which had been his initial anxiety, and in fact helped him draw closer to confused prey. The branching bones also made magnificent weapons, once the grey-merle prince learned how to use them. But Ingmar still worried about any additional transformations waiting around the corner—prepared to pounce on him, and mold him into something else. Something that might disadvantage him egregiously next time.
Idal? That idiot couldn’t have been more pleased with HIS magical “gift.” A cape of offensively bright green feathers—shimmering iridescent blue and yellow in the light—fluttered from behind his ears all the way to the base of his tail. Ingmar had lost count of the times he’d caught his stupid brother making faces at himself in a puddle of water, admiring how his avian mohawk complimented his marbled blonde and cinnamon pelt. The amount of times the black-spattered brute had rolled his ice blue eyes in annoyance had long since surpassed one hundred. If he had to hear “But Ingmar, I’m just so beautiful” one more time, he WOULD vomit.
Luckily, as the pair marched along the beach, Idal could not find a reflective pool anywhere. What was worse—for Idal, anyway—was that the glorious feathers he so adored were starting to drop off. Chilled winter breezes plucked vivid plumage from his shoulders and tossed it over the sand, much to Idal’s dismay. “Dammit, there goes ANOTHER one!” The diluted merle heir whined like a child. His teeth snapped uselessly at a loose feather as it spiraled away. “If this keeps up, I won’t have any to show my ladies!” Ingmar silently gritted his fangs, willing his eyes not to roll. His own antlers felt lighter, somehow . . . wiggly at their bases, as if they too wanted to drop off. Good. Perhaps by the time the brothers returned to their kingdom, his antlers would be gone along with Idal’s cape. Is this how magic worked in this land? Come winter, it all wore off? Wouldn’t that be a blessed relief . . .
“Ingmar—a girl! Let’s go talk to her before we’re ugly again.” Idal actually nipped at Ingmar’s tail, earning him a savage growl that he simply laughed off. But Ingmar followed his sibling’s line of sight anyway, until his gaze rested on an ivory female gamboling by the foamy shore. Her lithe limbs carried her gracefully over the beach, launching her at birds and skipping her bodice through the tide. Black-tipped feathers glossed over her back, reminding Ingmar of the owls they occasionally observed on the tundra. She was quite pretty . . . and Ingmar hadn’t really talked to many faes while dealing with his . . . mutation. He prepared to give a gruff agreement when Idal raced ahead, tail wagging like a moron and calling out to the lass in his friendliest voice.
“Greetings, lovely maiden! I couldn’t help but notice that you too have been gifted some ravishing feathers.” Idal finally caught up to the wolfess, circling just outside her comfort zone to show off his remaining rainbow plumage. “I hope you don’t mind me being so forward. The only company I’ve had has been my brother, and he’s about as much fun as a raincloud.”
Ingmar approached much more slowly. He’d lowered his head, warning Idal with the full span of his rack, but his blue eyes—when they reached the female—were much gentler. He seated himself in the sand so as not to startle or crowd the lady. “My name is Ingmar, and the imbecile accosting you is Idal. What brings a damsel like you to the beach?”
➸ Handsome Warrior, Cruel Prince
↝ Prince of a Distant Land | loves only himself | brother of Idal | xathira ↜
