The Fae King's Prize (Between Dawn and Dusk #3) - Jamie Schlosser Page 0,1

wrists from the iron shackles.

My father did it. He brought my sight back.

Was it worth it? I’m not sure yet.

The pain and fire have lessened, becoming a dull ache all over my body. Hot blood pumps from my heart, but it’s not unpleasant to feel the rush of heat through my veins.

Rolling to my back, I try to sit up. I still don’t have very good control of my arms. My hand slips against the floor again, and I end up sprawled out on my side.

“What did you do to him?” Mother questions, horrified. “What did you do to my baby?”

“The wizard said he would be powerful.” Father sounds just as stunned. “Strike it all. That bastard tricked me.”

I wince as the cursed word zaps my mother’s hand, and I wait for the shock to come to me, too. But it doesn’t.

Mother is sobbing now. “Will he change back?”

Change back? Change back from what?

“I… don’t know.”

Something I know about the Day king—he doesn’t like to admit he’s made a mistake and he never says he’s sorry. So the uncertainty I catch in his voice isn’t reassuring.

Flailing, I finally get up onto all fours, bracing myself on my hands and knees.

Only, something isn’t right. My arms are out at my sides, so what’s holding me up?

When I look down, I see long talons on deformed feet. Then I lower my head to look behind me and realize I have the legs of an animal. My feet are furry paws. To my side, there are large black feathered wings spanning out where my arms should be. They’re like the wings I usually have, only much bigger.

That’s why I couldn’t use my hands. Why they kept slipping.

They’re just feathers now.

Waddling, I make my way over to the oval standing mirror, and another squawk escapes from my throat when I see my reflection.

I don’t recognize the creature looking back at me.

I have a beak instead of a face. A white feathered head changes to smooth brown fur on my body. A tail whips behind me, the brown tuft on the end restlessly hitting the floor.

The only part of me that’s the same is my eyes. They glow back at me like two gold coins reflecting candlelight.

I’m terrifying.

“Strike you!” Mother shouts forcefully at my father. “Strike you to the depths of hell!”

A pop ignites against my father’s cheek and another quickly follows. Again, I wait for the cursed word to spark against me, but it doesn’t. Maybe it can’t get to me when I’m in this form.

I could change back. Somehow, I know this to be true. But I also think it will hurt, and I’m not ready to go through the pain again.

I’ll stay like this for a while.

Once Father has recovered from the electric shocks Mother gave him, he turns his anger to her and raises his fist. Before he can punch her, I’m skidding across the floor, my talons and claws leaving deep grooves in the marble as I slide between them.

As soon as I’m shielding Mother, I snap my teeth at my father’s hand.

No, not my teeth—my beak.

He rears back, fear flashing in his golden eyes as he cradles his arm to his chest. He almost lost a finger just then. I’m sorry I missed. I wouldn’t mind feeling the crunch of his bone and tasting his coppery blood—payback for the way he’s mistreated my mother and me.

My movements feel unnatural as I crouch down, staring at my father while I make myself comfortable as Mother’s guardian. Even though I’m sitting, I’m as tall as him. Strength flows through my big body, and now that I can see, I recognize the expression on his face.

Regret.

Not because he feels bad about what he did to me, but because I’m dangerous. He’s scared of me.

“By the suns, what has become of you?” His tone is full of disgust.

And I know the answer to his question.

A monster. He turned me into a monster.

Present Day

Maelyn

The covered wagon stops with a jolt, and whimpers and cries sound all around me. I can’t seem to make a peep. Fear has left me frozen and mute.

The girl to my left starts sobbing again, and someone else starts praying in Spanish.

I want to cry and pray, too, but even silent tears would make me all snotty, and I already feel like I’m suffocating with this burlap sack against my face. The scratchy fabric is full of tiny holes for breathability, but it’s still unbelievably hot and it stinks in