Hunt let his lightning gather at his fingers, let it wind through his hair as the two Fae Kings approached, one wreathed in flame, the other in shadow. The hissing of the ghouls, their stench, had veiled the kings’ approach. Unless Morven had willed the ghouls to make such a racket, so they could creep up this close without even Baxian’s hearing picking it up.
Hunt’s lightning was a spark of what he’d command without the halo, but it was enough to fry these fuckers—
The Autumn King only stared at Bryce, pure hatred twisting his face. “Did you think that closet could hold me?”
Hunt’s lightning sizzled around him, twining up his forearm. He was dimly aware of Tharion forming a plume of water straight from the river they’d been about to cross and aiming it at the kings. Of Baxian, sword out and snarling—
Seeming supremely unconcerned, Bryce said to her father, “I imprisoned Micah in a bathroom, so a closet seemed good enough for you. I have to admit that I’d hoped you’d stay in there a bit longer, though.”
Morven’s shadows thrashed around him like hounds straining at the leash. “You will return to my castle with us to face the consequences for treating your sovereign so outrageously.”
Bryce laughed. “We’re not going anywhere with you.”
Morven smiled, and his shadows stilled. “I think you will.”
Dark, scabby hands dragged Flynn and Declan out of the shadows. The males struggled, but the ghouls held them in check. Only the creatures’ hands were visible—the rest of their bodies remained hidden in the shadows, as if unable to stand being so close to Bryce’s starlight.
Sathia let out a low noise of shock. But Hunt demanded, “Where the fuck is Ruhn?”
“Occupied with wooing that traitorous bitch,” Morven said. “He didn’t even notice my nephews stealing these idiots away.”
Two voices said into Hunt’s mind, We’ll kill you and then breed your mate until she’s—
Starlight flared, silencing the voices but revealing the Murder Twins lurking behind the two kings. Steps away from Dec and Flynn, like the brothers commanded the ghouls to hold the males.
Bryce blazed, bright white against the blue and gold of the Autumn King’s flames, the impenetrable dark of Morven’s shadows. “What the fuck do you want?”
Flynn and Declan let out high, keening sounds. Though the ghouls’ hands hadn’t shifted, blood was trickling from her friends’ noses. Dripping onto the ground.
Seamus and Duncan smiled. Whatever those fucks were doing to Dec’s and Flynn’s minds—
“You treacherous little brat,” Morven spat at Bryce, shadows now at the ready once more. “Trying to win me over with your sire’s research. He would never have let you get your dirty hands on it if you hadn’t incapacitated him somehow. I went to investigate immediately.”
Hunt could only gape as Bryce feigned a yawn. “My mistake. I assumed you’d want a leg up on this asshole here.” She pointed with her thumb at the Autumn King. “But I didn’t bargain on you being too dumb to interpret what was in his notes without his help.”
Hunt had to stifle a chuckle, despite the danger they were in. Morven’s affronted look was a little too forced—Bryce had clearly hit home. The Autumn King shot him a nasty glare.
“Let them go,” Bryce said, “and then we’ll talk like adults.”
“They will be released when you have returned to my castle,” Morven said.
“Then kill them now, because I’m not going back with you.”
Flynn and Dec turned outraged eyes on her, but the ghouls held them firm. Morven said nothing. Even his shadows didn’t move. The Murder Twins just eyed Bryce, readying for a fight.
Bring it, fuckers, Hunt wanted to say. From the way the twins glared at him, he wondered if they’d picked up his thoughts.
Yet Bryce smiled mockingly at Morven. “But I know you won’t kill them. They’re too valuable as breeding assets. Which is what all this comes down to, right? Breeding.”
The Autumn King said coldly, even as red-hot flame simmered at his fingertips, “The Fae must retain our power and birthright. The royal bloodlines have been fading, turning watery and weak in your generation.”
“Cormac proved that with his spinelessness,” Morven bit out. “We must do everything we can to strengthen them.”
“Cormac was more of a warrior than you’ll ever be,” Tharion snapped, that plume of water narrowing to needle-like sharpness. It’d punch a hole through the face of whoever got in front of it.
“Too bad I’m married now,” Bryce mused. “And you guys don’t do divorce.”
Morven sneered. “Exceptions can be made for the sake of breeding.”
Hunt’s rage roared through him.
“All this breeding talk is awfully familiar,” Bryce said, yawning again. “And come to think of it, this whole Fae King versus Fae Queen thing seems like history repeating itself, too.” She scrunched up her features, pretending to think. “But you know …” She patted Truth-Teller’s hilt. “Some things might be different these days.” Hunt could have sworn the Starsword hummed faintly, as if in answer.
“You disgrace our people and history by bearing those blades,” Morven accused.
“Don’t forget that I also bear this,” Bryce said, and held up a hand. Light—pure, concentrated light—fizzed there.
“Oh, you believe mere light can best true darkness?” Morven seethed, shadows rising behind him in a black wave. They were deep, suffocating—lifeless.
Hunt gathered his lightning again, a chain twining around his wrist and forearm. One whip of it, and he’d fry the ghouls holding Dec and Flynn, freeing up two more allies in this fight—
But the Autumn King beheld that concentrated seed of light at Bryce’s finger. His flames banked. Any amusement or rage leached from his expression as he murmured to Morven, “Run.”
“Now that’s the first wise decision you’ve made,” Bryce mocked.
A beam of slicing, burning light shot from her hand toward the ceiling.
Then solid rock rained down upon them all.
Ruhn had just decided that he really should go see where his friends had disappeared to all day, and was about to do so after leaving the archives that night when he found himself walking back toward the bedrooms with Lidia.
“I know it’s an unusual situation,” she said when they reached his door, “but I liked working with you today.”
He halted, throat working before he managed to say, “Must be nice, to finally get to … be yourself. Out in the open.”
“It’s complicated,” she said quietly.
She shifted on her feet, like she wanted to say more but didn’t know how, so Ruhn decided to do her a favor and asked, “Wanna come in for a minute?” At her arched brow, he added, “Just to talk.”
Her lips curved, but she nodded. He opened his door, stepping aside to let her in. They found seats in the threadbare armchairs before the crackling fire, and for a moment, Lidia stared at the flames as if they were speaking to her.
Ruhn was about to offer her a drink when she said, “Everything in my life is complicated. All the relationships, real and faked … sometimes I can’t even tell them apart.” Her voice was soft—sad. And utterly exhausted.
Ruhn cleared his throat. “When you and I …” Fucked. “Slept together, you knew who I was. Beyond the code name, I mean.”
Her eyes found his, dancing with flame. “Yes.”
“Did it complicate things for you?”
She held his stare, her eyes as gold as the flames before them, and his heart thundered. “No. I was shocked, but it didn’t complicate anything.”
“Shocked?”
She gestured to him. “You’re … you.”
“And that’s … bad?”
She huffed a laugh, and it was so much like Day that he couldn’t get a breath down.
“You’re the defiant, partying prince. You have all those piercings and tattoos. I didn’t have you down for being a rebel.”
“Trust me, it wasn’t on my five-year plan, either.”
She laughed again, and the breathy sound went right to his cock, wrapping tight. Her voice had always done that. “Why risk it?”
“At first?” He shrugged, fighting past the rising lust pounding through his body. “Cormac blackmailed me. Said he’d tell my father about my mind-speaking abilities. But then I realized it was … it was the right thing to do.”
“Agent Silverbow will be sorely missed. He already is.”
“You knew Cormac, then?”
“No, but I knew of the things he accomplished for Ophion, and the people caught up in the war. He was a good male.” She glanced to the shut door. “His father did not deserve a son like him.”
Ruhn nodded.
She looked at him intently. “Your father, too—he does not deserve a son like you.”
The words shouldn’t have meant anything, especially coming from the Hind, but Ruhn’s throat tightened at the raw honesty in her voice.
“Can I ask,” he ventured, “about your deal with the Ocean Queen?”
Lidia’s jaw tightened. “I was young, and afraid, when I made my bargain with her. But even now, I’d make the same choices. For my sons.”
“What happened?” He met her eyes. “I know it’s not my business, but …”
“Pollux isn’t their father.” He nearly sighed with relief. “It …” She struggled for words. “I come from a long line of powerful stag shifters. We have rituals. Secret ones, old ones. We don’t necessarily worship the same gods that you do. I think our gods predate this world, but I’ve never confirmed it.”
“Let me guess: You participated in some kind of secret sex rite and got pregnant?”
Her eyes widened, then she laughed—a full, throaty sound this time. “Essentially, yes. A fertility rite, deep in the Aldosian Forest. I was selected from the females of my family. A male from another family was chosen. Neither of our identities were known to each other, or to each other’s families. It was quick, and not particularly interesting, and if there was fertility magic, I couldn’t tell you what the Hel it was.”
“Were you already with Pollux then?”
“Ruhn …” She looked at her hands. “My father took me from my mother when I was three. I remember being taken, and not understanding, and only learning later, when I was old enough, that my father was a power-hungry monster. He’s not worth the breath it takes to speak of him, and I blamed my mother for letting him take me away. I became his little protégé, I think out of some hope that it would wound her when she heard I had turned out exactly like him.”
She took a shaky breath. “I trained, and I schemed, and I wound up in Sandriel’s triarii, a high honor for my family. I’d been serving Sandriel for ten years when my father chose me for this ritual. I had become adept at … getting people to talk. Pollux and I were dancing around each other, but I had not yet decided to let him into my bed. So I went to the ritual.”
Ruhn couldn’t move, couldn’t have spoken even if he wanted to.
“A few weeks later, I knew I was pregnant. A baby from a sacred ritual would have been celebrated. I should have rushed right to my father to announce the good news, but I hesitated. For the first time in my life, I hesitated. And I didn’t know why I couldn’t tell him. Why, when I thought of the baby inside of me, when I thought of handing that child over to him, I couldn’t.”
She hooked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the restless motion at odds with her usual poised demeanor. Ruhn refrained from putting a hand on her shoulder.
“I knew that within a matter of days, Pollux or the others—Athalar was still with us then—would scent the pregnancy. So I staged my own kidnapping and disappearance. I made it look like Ophion had grabbed me. I didn’t even know where I was running to. But I couldn’t stop thinking of the babies—I knew it was twins, by that point—and how I would do anything to keep them out of my father’s hands. Out of Sandriel’s hands. I knew, deep down, what sort of monsters I served. I had always known. And I didn’t want to be like them. Not just for the babies’ sake, but my own. So I ran.”
“And that’s when the Ocean Queen found you?” His voice was hoarse.
“I found her. When I finally paused to breathe, I remembered what some rebels had claimed while I … interrogated them. That the ocean itself would come to help them. It seemed strange enough that I took a chance. I walked into a known rebel base and surrendered. I begged to be taken to the ocean.”
He couldn’t imagine what she’d felt in that moment—knowing her children’s lives hung in the balance.
“Their highest commanders understood, and got me onto the Depth Charger. The Ocean Queen welcomed me, but with a caveat. I could stay on her ship, bear the babies, and remain for a time. But in exchange for her protection, and the continued protection of my children … I had to go back. I would spin a lie about being interrogated and held prisoner for more than two years, and I would go back. Work my way up in the Asteri’s esteem, gain their trust. I would feed any intel to Ophion—and by extension, the Ocean Queen.”
“And you could not see your sons.”
“No. I would not see my sons again. At least, not until the Ocean Queen allowed me to.”
“That’s terrible.”
“It kept them safe.”
“And kept you in her service.”
“Yes. I tried to save the rebels who crossed my path, though.”
“Was it your idea or hers to save them?” He didn’t realize how vital her answer was until he asked the question.
“I told you, my eyes had been opened. And while I had to play the part of interrogator and loyal servant, I did everything I could to mitigate the damage. There were agents who were about to talk, to spill vital secrets. Those, I had to kill. ‘Accidents’ during torture. But I gave them swift, merciful deaths. The ones who held out, or who stood a chance … I tried to get them out. Sometimes it didn’t work.”
“Like Sofie Renast.”
“Like Sofie Renast,” she said quietly. “I did not intend for her to drown. The mistake in timing … I carry that.”
He took her hand—slowly, making sure she’d allow the touch. “What happened when you returned?”
“Pollux confessed his feelings. Said he’d been frantic to find me for the two years I’d been gone. That he’d slaughtered countless rebels trying to find me. The old Lidia would have slept with him. And I knew it would make my cover complete. The rest is history.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “I’m not wholly innocent, you see,” she said. “Had it not been for my sons, I might very well have become the person the world believes me to be, forever ignoring that small voice whispering that it was wrong.”
“It must have been so … lonely,” he said.
Surprise lit her eyes at his understanding. It shamed him. “Then you came along,” she said. “This nearly inept, reckless agent.”
He snickered.
She smiled. “And you saw me. For the first time, you saw me. I could talk to you as I hadn’t spoken to anyone. You reminded me that I was—I am—alive. I hadn’t felt that way in a very long time.”
He scanned her face. Saw past that remarkable beauty and into the burning soul inside.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she whispered.
But she shook her head and got to her feet, walking to the door.
Ruhn caught up to her before she could reach for the knob. “Lidia.”
She paused, but didn’t look at him.
He laid a hand on her cheek. Gently turned her face back to his. Her skin was so soft, so warm. “Lidia,” he said roughly. “Finding out who you are … it fucked with my head. To know you’re the Hind, but also Lidia—also Day. My Day. But now …” He swallowed.
“Now?” Her gaze dipped to his mouth.
His cock tightened at that gaze. He said, voice near guttural, “Now I don’t fucking care who you are, so long as you’re mine.” Her eyes shot to his, again full of surprise. “Because I’m yours, Day. I’m fucking yours.”
Her face crumpled. And he couldn’t stand the sight of her crying, the relief and joy. So he leaned forward, bringing his mouth to hers.
The kiss didn’t start sweetly. It was openmouthed—teeth clacking, tongues clashing. Her hands wrapped around his neck, and he hauled her to him, pulling her flush against his chest.
Yes, yes, yes.
His hand coasted over her ass and he squeezed, drawing a moan from deep in her throat. She pulled her mouth from his, though. “Ruhn.”
He stilled. “What?” If she wanted to stop, he’d stop. Whatever she wanted, he’d give her.
She ran her fingers over his pecs. He shuddered as she asked, “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he breathed, nipping at her bottom lip. He guided her toward the bed, then onto it. She traced her finger over where his lip ring had been ripped out. Then his brow ring.
“I couldn’t stand it,” she whispered, putting her mouth to his brow. “I couldn’t …” She began shaking. He tightened his arms around her.
“I’m here,” he said. “We made it.”
She trembled harder, as if all that she had experienced and done were now breaking free in aftershocks.
“I’m here,” he said again, and leaned down to kiss the side of her neck. “I’m here.” He kissed below her ear. Her hands came up, caressing a line down his back. She stopped shaking. “I’m here,” he said, kissing the base of her throat. Tugging down the zipper on the front of her tactical bodysuit.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts, lush, high palmfuls tipped in rosy pink, spilled out into his hands. He swore, and couldn’t stop himself from dipping his head to suck one into his mouth.
She inhaled sharply, and the sound was kindling to his cock. He grazed his teeth over her nipple, tugging lightly.
Her hands wandered around his waist, aiming toward his front, and—yeah, not happening. He wanted to explore first. Not removing his mouth from that delicious breast, he grabbed her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head, settling more firmly between her legs.
She flinched.
It was barely more than a flicker, but he felt it. The slight tightening in her body. He halted, raised his head. Looked down at her. At the hands he’d pinned—
That fucker.
Ruhn let go immediately.
He’d kill him. He’d rip Pollux limb from limb, feather by feather for putting that flinch there, for hurting her—
Her eyes softened. She laid her palms on either side of his face and whispered, “Just an old memory.”
One that shouldn’t be there. One that Pollux had put there.
“Ruhn.”
He took her wrists in his hands and gently pressed a kiss to each one. Then laid them on her chest, hands over her heart, kissing her as he did so.
“Ruhn,” she said again, but he sprawled out beside her. Looped an arm over her middle.
“Stay here with me tonight,” he said quietly. A tendril of his shadows curled around the flames of the sconces, dimming them. “No sex. Just … stay with me.”
He could feel her eyes on him in the dark. But then she moved—zippers hissing as she shrugged out of her clothes. He tugged off his pants, nestling under the blankets.
Then her warm, soft, lush body curled into his.
And yeah, he wanted to be inside of her so badly he had to grind his teeth, but her scent soothed him. Steadied him. He slid a hand over her bare waist, tucking her in close, her breasts flush against his chest. His hand drifted lower, to her ass, and all it would have taken was a shift in angle and he would have been between her legs.
But this wasn’t about sex. And as their breathing evened out, as they stared at each other in the near-dark, he’d never felt more seen.
Eventually, her eyes closed. Her breathing deepened.
But Ruhn lay awake, holding her tight, and did not let go until dawn.
“Is that a laser?” Tharion shouted as rock crumbled from where the light had sliced into it, the cave-in now cutting off access to the two Fae Kings, Flynn and Dec, and the Murder Twins. And a bunch of ghouls. But Bryce ordered, “The river!”
“What?” Hunt barked. Bryce was already running for the dark, rushing water.
“Jump in,” Bryce called, starlight bobbing with each step.
“Teleport us across!” Hunt countered. Flynn and Declan had been stranded on the other side of that cave-in, and they needed to figure out how to get them away from the kings and the twins—
“Jump in now,” Bryce ordered, and didn’t wait before she ran for the ledge. Hunt grabbed for her, to stop her from this pure insanity—
She leapt. Right into the river. He could have sworn the starlight glowed brighter as she did, as if agreeing with her decision.
Then the light in her chest went out.
And in the sudden dark, with only Hunt’s lightning flickering around them, the ghouls began to hiss, drawing nearer, as if coming through the rock itself.
“River,” Tharion said, grabbing Sathia and racing for it. He dove, and she shrieked as he dragged her with him. The roar of the river swallowed the sound—and them—in half a second.
There was no choice left, really. Hunt met Baxian’s stare and saw his own annoyance mirrored there. They could have taken the kings. Bryce surely knew that. And yet …
If Bryce had chosen to cause a cave-in, to block the kings but not kill them, to opt for going downriver instead of teleporting across … she hadn’t told him why, likely due to their fight. She hadn’t told him, which meant his mate probably no longer trusted him, and he had no idea how to start fixing that—
“Athalar,” Baxian growled. “Snap out of it!”
Hunt blinked. He’d been frozen in place, reeling. Baxian’s eyes were wide. Hunt shook off his shame. It pissed him off to no end, but Bryce did nothing without reason.
Hunt didn’t wait to see if Baxian followed before he tucked his wings in tight and leapt.
