A Taste of Poison (Entangled with Fae #4)

by Tessonja Odette

I brush past them and continue down Nieman Avenue, following the scent trail that is undeniably Astrid Snow. It’s an aroma I’ve grown keenly attuned to, reminiscent

of morning dew, apple blossoms, and lemon. A personal scent like all beings have, one derived from a medley of body, mind, and soul to create a perfume unique to the individual.

Our eyes lock, and my mind empties of all reason. I don’t recall why I was momentarily confused. All I know is that my heart feels as if it’s been torn in two, for no other reason but the agonizing urge

to protect. But protect what? The kitten in the murderer’s arms?

My smile widens as a hum of euphoria ripples in my chest. The way I feel around animals is better than even the temporary high I get from my Crimson Malus tincture.

Instead, I’m alone. Alone. Closing my eyes against the well of tears that have sprung there, I reach into my skirt pocket and pull out my vial. One drop under the tongue. Two. Soon I’m back to content. Numb. Perfectly fine.

My eyes return to those round ears. “You’re so…” Another step closer. “Terrifying?”

Something melts inside me, a calm breaking through the dark storm of my emotions. “Fluffy.” He halts. “What?”

“Can I please touch your fur?” Even as the words leave my mouth, I know they’re ridiculous.

I blink at my hands, finding them no longer buried in brown fur but…pressed against the Huntsman’s chest. “What is wrong with you?” he asks.

I cut him a glare. “Then sniff away, bear man. I’m telling the truth.”

Rage roars through my body, heating my blood. “What do you mean you didn’t have a choice?” Marybeth falls to her knees. “I gave her my true name.”

A wave of gasps rumbles from the stands followed by utter silence.

“You gave Queen Tris your true name, and she ordered you to try and kill me?”

can’t tell you. I’m forbidden from saying certain things. But the poison couldn’t have killed you, Astrid. I knew it couldn’t. Your life was spared. Don’t you understand?”

“There’s no explanation that will justify my father’s death.” Renewed tears stream down Marybeth’s cheeks again. “I know,” she whispers. “He didn’t deserve to die.”

The poison was meant for me. It’s something I’ve known from the start, just like I knew Tris had been behind the poisoning. But now the weight of having all my suspicions confirmed crushes me down. Down. It’s too heavy. Far too heavy.

I’m grateful that the broadsheets create a barrier between us, if only to hide the traitorous grin that tugs my lips.

“That feeling is part of losing someone that you love. To ignore it is to dishonor their memory. You don’t get a free pass. You don’t get to run away and feel nothing. You will work through it. You’re strong enough, and every day you’ll get stronger.”

Now the truth snaps into place. My first memory of comfort isn’t of my father. It’s of Torben.

But meeting Astrid changed things. Only a little at first, but after the other night, when I climbed on the bed in my bear form and felt her small body press against my belly…it broke something inside me. Or perhaps stitched it back together.

Tears prick my eyes at his words. How many times have I wished I could hear you are followed by things that are true about me?

“Astrid, you’re allowed to be strange. You’re allowed to be a mess. You can be all these things that are part of you. It won’t stop me from loving everything about you.”

“They’re adorable,” she says in a high-pitched whisper. “I want to pet their little faces so hard.”

“She’s…a mirror? You’re certain?” I nod. Her lips pull into a pained grimace. “So as I’ve grown to hate her…I’ve hated…me?” “That’s the gist of it.”

What Father failed to mention, however, is how frightening her particular quality of beauty is. Violence lurks just beneath the surface of her skin, her hair, her lips.

“I told you, you’re no mother to me,” I bite out. “You left me on the shore—” “I simply set you aside so I could have a break from you,” she says with a dismissive flutter of her hand.

scent grows stronger, fresher, closer. It’s tangled

I step in closer, placing my hand over his heart. “You’re just the man I love. And while I may be a princess, I’m not beholden to any promise to live here.”

“We can grow side by side,” Torben says. “We can grow together—entwined

or parallel. But we don’t have to do the same thing. Or…or become the same tree.”