THE ONLY PRINCE [High Fantasy Quest Adventure w/ Fae Romance]

Chapter Seven

THE FIGURE TURNS towards me, and the realization hits me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs.

His features are illuminated briefly in the stark lightning before plunging back into darkness, and I see a face I do not recognize. I know I've never seen him before, because he is unforgettable.

His profile holds a striking inhuman symmetry, a flawless arrangement of features carved with more perfection than that of any angel on our church walls. 

His large chin has a refined sharp contour, complementing the subtle arch of his nose, exuding an air of strength and grace. Dark chestnut curls frame his face, cascading in effortless waves around his sculpted jawline, barely even tousled by the wind.

Draped across his shoulders billows a fur hooded greatcloak of two fabrics, the outside icy royal blue silk velvet, and the inside laced with a white fabric that gleams. Underneath, a white leather jerkin and trousers shimmer with a silvery sheen of detailed lace. Each line and curve is as delicate as a spider's web, catching the light in a mesmerizing dance. 

It reminds me of the pattern that formed on the window of the cellar, as if tiny crystals were woven in. From beneath his cloak, lightly tanned skin glows otherworldly.

But it's not his ethereal beauty that freezes me in place. It's his eyes.

Pools with depths as dark as the ocean. Swirling sapphire and twilight blue. Just shades off from being completely black.

The word is in my head before I can even understand the implications.

Fae.

When we lock eyes, there is a primal instinct of danger that unleashes through my veins. The power of his saturated gaze stabs through the blizzard, locking onto me with a magnetic pull that I cannot resist. But the intensity in his hardened features shifts as his gaze lowers from the eyes of the Daenara, to my own, and he studies my face.

His eyes soften almost imperceptibly, and a ghost of a smile plays on his lips, like he knows something I don't. His lips part, as if about to speak, but then, from behind him, steps my father.

Orion's expression is grave, weathered with pure worry and exhaustion, but once he realizes it is me riding Solaris, underneath his pelt, it holds something worse.

Fear.

"There she is," the stranger's voice is deep, booming without intention, as if somehow the very wind is eager to carry his words. "I knew it."

The stranger raises his hands, captivating eyes never wavering from mine. And just like that. The howling winds die down to a mere whisper, the snowflakes hang frozen in mid-air, and the crackling lightning fades away. Time itself seems to slow. The dense, charcoal clouds slowly part and thin rays of sunlight stream through the gaps. The beams stretch out like fingers, eagerly reaching towards the earth below.

I don't have time to respond before Orion roars, "Your business is with me alone!"

But the stranger doesn't flinch at my father's words. Instead, he slowly lowers his hands and inclines his head in a gesture of acknowledgment towards my father. His gaze never leaves mine, though, as if I'm the only thing in this frozen moment that truly matters to him.

"My business is with the proph-"

But he's caught off when Solaris whines loudly, rearing up on her hind legs and kicking at the air as if to ward off an unseen threat. The stranger is quick to react, stepping back and raising his hand in a calming gesture towards the suddenly skittish doe.

Aunt Elora always says that animals can sense danger long before we do, and I can't help thinking Solaris's reaction means something more.

Her eyes, usually gentle and trusting, are now wild with unbridled fear. She refuses to calm down for him, her bronze hooves thrashing against the snow-covered ground as she lets out a series of panicked knickers.