Leon’s pitiful whimper drew Rilla’s attention only long enough for her to remove the promised ring from her finger and toss it at him. “That concludes our business,” she sneered. “Be gone before I feed you to the wolf.”
The púca rallied himself enough to choke down the thick gold band. He cast one last pleading glance at me then hopped away as fast as his legs would carry him.
A cawing screech had me searching the sky as a large black bird sailed overhead. It wheeled a slow circle above the trees before angling in our direction. The girl lifted her arm, and he dutifully landed on her wrist. She stroked a finger over his head. “Did you miss me?” The bird snapped at her finger and drew blood, but she only laughed. “Such a naughty child. No wonder you were always my favorite.”
Its answering call sounded doubtful as it glided from her arm to land at her bare feet.
A ripple of magic blurred the air around the bird, and its form contorted until it stood taller than Rilla. Feathers slid from its skin, exposing gray flesh. The quills on its head flowed into silky locks of inky hair. Its eyes remained the same, black and pitiless. The transformation left a tall, heartbreakingly beautiful man with a familiar silhouette standing before us wearing an ebony suit of leather armor and matching boots.
I wet my lips. “You’re the Faerie king.”
“I am Rook Morriganson.” The man executed a slight bow of recognition then bent to kiss the girl’s cheek. “Mother.”
Mother? My jaw gave serious consideration to coming unhinged. “That means she’s…”
“The Morrigan.” The girl filled in the blank for me.
The Morrigan, my brain supplied helpfully, was a death goddess. On the one hand, that explained why she had tried to kill Isaac at the earliest opportunity. His death would have soothed the hunger still burning in her eyes, a craving no plate of canned goods could sate. On the other, learning she was a centuries-old goddess erased any guilt I might have had over returning the favor.
“She’s not wearing glamour,” Isaac protested, stunned into disbelief. “She is a child.”
“I died in that bubble. Over and over.” Her pouty lips plumped. “Starvation is a miserable death. It’s one of my least favorites.”
So the lack of food and water, maybe even oxygen, had killed her. But her deathless nature kept bringing her back to life, starting the cycle all over again. What a miserable existence. Years passed in the blink of immortal eyes, but the confinement had no doubt held her attention for each excruciating minute.
“You’re like a phoenix?” Isaac, who couldn’t curb his curious nature, pressed. “You’re reborn and start life over as an infant?”
“I return near to this age.” She stuck her cute button nose in the air. “Infancy is messy, and babes are good for nothing except the tenderness of their flesh.”
Suddenly, I understood why the bird had bit her. With a mother like her, she was lucky he hadn’t pecked out her eyes.
“This is what you meant,” I addressed Rilla. “You didn’t think we could get her out of the bubble where she was trapped.”
Admittedly, you had to be pretty darn stupid to release a death goddess into the world when someone had taken such pains to confine her. Lucky for Rilla, Isaac and I were two such idiots.
“Only two people should have been able to breach the aer póca, and you’re neither.” She swept her gaze over Isaac. “You took blood from one of them, didn’t you? It’s the only way the gambit could work.” She considered Rook. “Thierry is my guess. Her father is more careful with his blood. Macsen hasn’t lived this long by being foolish.”
Thierry? That was his last remaining aspect? No wonder he hadn’t told me. Carrying around blood that potent was tantamount to stuffing his pockets with C-4 prior to departure. I didn’t have to know what her magic did to know I never wanted to be on the receiving end of it.
“Wait.” I stepped forward to shift her gaze from Isaac. “Whose house was that?”
“Macsen Sullivan,” Rilla informed me with glee. “The Black Dog of Faerie.” She clucked her tongue. “His daughter trapped the Morrigan, and you’ve set her free. You can’t return home now. Not after you freed Thierry’s mortal—or immortal as it happens—enemy.”
A panicked sweat broke down my spine. Losing the prince had been an honest mistake. He had cooperated with Rilla when he could have ended the charade right then and there and saved all of us the hassle. But he had played along for the sake of his girlfriend’s safety, and that hiccup was still nothing compared to this.
The wolf bucked in my middle, and I almost shifted on the spot. Panic soured my mouth. Never see Cord or Cam again? Never see my pack? And Zed? Who would make sure he ate? Who would protect him from himself?
“This is all my fault.” Isaac rubbed slow circles across my back. “I never should have released her.”
Unable to speak, uncertain I could comfort him while my world was shattering, I focused on keeping my wolf confined within my skin. I couldn’t afford the precious minutes of vulnerability during the shift. Not in front of this crowd.
Isaac had done what I would have in his place, what any decent person would have done. I couldn’t hold that against him. Not when I would have made the same choice if it meant protecting a child.
“What will you do with us?” Isaac challenged our captors, sounding more annoyed than concerned.
“You won’t be allowed to return to Earth,” Rook decreed. “Thierry must not know what’s happening here. Not yet.”
“What is happening here?” I mumbled, lips numb with shock.
“We’re going to war,” he told me, not unkindly. “It’s the only way. I thought with the tethers cut, I might reign in peace, but the appearance of the rift has changed things. I can’t control the fae of my own house, let alone all of Faerie. Not when such a temptation is there for the indulging. The only way to hold any semblance of control is to lead the charge instead of being trampled by it.”
“Is the prince collateral?” Isaac demanded.
“Of a kind,” Rook allowed. “I’ve agreed to offer what assistance I can in placing Prince Tiberius on the throne after my century ends in exchange for Seelie cooperation.”
Shaking off the sense of dread pooling in my gut, I forced my mind to the task at hand. “I saw Galina and Paavo not too long ago.” They had been calling for my head as punishment for misplacing their son. “Trust me, cooperation is the last thing on their mind.”
“Sadly, I have reason to believe my poor sister and her devoted husband won’t return from their trip. Their deaths will be blamed on the humans, of course.” A smile played on Rilla’s lips. “That’s when I’ll step forward and present a grieving Tiberius to our house as the sole survivor of the massacre. He will rally the troops, and Galina and Paavo’s names will be our battle cries.”
That explained why she had kept him hidden in Autumn, close enough for the precipice to cover his stormy disposition. She wasn’t at the Halls of Summer, the Seelie seat, because she didn’t want them to know he was back yet. She wanted to push her coup through first and then present the heartbroken prince to the masses so that he could unite them all in his grief.
Neither had clarified why we had been led to Macsen Sullivan’s house. “Why trick us into freeing the Morrigan?”
“She’s a goddess of war.” Lines bracketed Rook’s mouth, and smudges darkened the skin under his eyes. Right now, he didn’t look all-powerful or kingly. Mostly he looked old and tired. “In order for us to win, I need her by my side.”
Rilla lengthened one of her fingernails into a sickle-shaped claw and sliced through Morgana’s—the Morrigan’s—twine bonds. The girl rubbed her wrists then cleared her throat. “Come, child. I grow weary. This body is not yet what it must be.”
Rook nodded and turned away from us. For one shining moment, I thought he might have changed his mind. That he would let us go. But Rilla used her wings to leap over the monarch and his mother. Her nail gleamed under the sunlight, a
nd she rested it against Isaac’s throat.
“I would hate to kill him.” She sounded earnest. “He’s such a rarity, and I would love to experiment with him further. It’s been so long since a new species was introduced to Faerie. Or would it be reintroduced? Either way, we could pass many informative years in pursuit of his limitations.”
A vicious growl pumped through my chest at the covetous hand she splayed over his abdomen.
“Understand me, I might not want to kill him, but I will if you won’t cooperate.” The pressure of her nail increased until the bright-sharp tang of his blood hit my nose. “I’m not sure why Rook wishes to keep you alive, except perhaps as a bribe for the Huntsman. He might enjoy running a different kind of hound for a change, and it is his Wild Hunt that determines the winner of the Coronation Hunt after all.”
The Huntsman, I knew from Isaac’s earlier story, was considered the Black Dog’s father, which meant he was Thierry’s grandfather. Being gifted to him wasn’t the worst outcome. He must be on their side, which meant he would be on our side too.
The plan formulating in my head had more holes than a hunk of Swiss, but it was the only one I could see getting us out of this mess alive. If that meant I had to shift for the Huntsman and endure a few belly rubs, well, I’d done worse. I had survived that, and I would survive this. We would survive this.
Under Rilla’s watchful eye, I followed the king and the girl to a crimson fortress capped with burnt-umber roof tiles. We walked for miles, and the hours dragged. The wolf gnawed at my control every step of the way. She was not thrilled with me turning my back on a threat. Frustrated, I let her glimpse the collateral ensuring our cooperation, and she froze in her pacing. The wolf would do anything to protect Isaac, even expose her vulnerabilities to an enemy.
We had weathered worse storms during our life, and we had learned early that sometimes you had to let things happen. Even if that meant letting them happen to you. That lesson I had learned at my mother’s knee. She took and took and took until she only had one thing left to take—her own life.
That wasn’t going to be me. I wasn’t going to follow in her footsteps. I wasn’t.
She had taught me the art of submission with tooth and claw, and I had been a star pupil. No matter how demeaning the lesson, I learned it in order to spare myself undo attention. From her and her suitors. Dominant females garnered too much interest. They were novelties who presented too much of a challenge in a hierarchy that rewarded strength. Submissive females, though, glided below the radar, and right now I wanted to be the faintest blip on the screen.
Sinking into the submissive mindset required me to act against my nature on a base level. I had sworn that once I made beta, I would never again hunch my shoulders or mumble at the feet of those who addressed me. Lucky for me, I had a lifetime’s worth of experience in breaking promises to myself. The wolf made herself small, tucking her tail and whining. Keeping my gaze locked on Isaac soothed her. Normally, this was the part where I comforted her with white lies.
This is the last time. We’ll never have to do this again. Everything will be okay. You’ll see. We’ll make it.
This time I didn’t bother. Neither of us believed me anymore.
Chapter 8
The fortress boasted scorch marks on the floors and a few walls. Its burnt-orange interior did it no favors either. It was as if Autumn had vomited its brightest colors and someone had smeared them on the walls in an attempt to pay homage to their splendor. The king and his mother strolled past us, taking a wide corridor while Rilla guided us to a bulky archway set down a hall with no other windows or doors. A tall man with her coloring, a matched set of tawny wings and an equally bilious robe greeted her with an inclination of his golden head. Tanet. One of Rilla’s cousins as best as I could figure. Our gazes met before I ducked my chin, and he drew a curved blade from a sheath hung on a thick leather belt around his waist.
“Tanet, put these with the other one.” Rilla retracted her claw and eased out of reach. “Keep them separate.” She stroked Isaac’s arm one last time. “For gods’ sake, don’t let this one draw blood.”
“Can you behave, beast?” Tanet demanded, taking his cue from Rilla and restraining Isaac at the point of his scimitar. “You seem docile enough. Is he one of yours?”
“He is mine,” the wolf answered for me, her gold eyes piercing Rilla.
Isaac, despite the cutting edge held at his throat, smiled beatifically.
Oh boy.
“Good.” Tanet bowed once more to Rilla, who set off in the direction the king had gone, then jerked his chin toward the arch. “Behave, or I’ll see him gutted.”
Shoulders rolled forward, I rushed into the small chamber he indicated, giving the illusion I was prey and he the predator flushing me from my den. A heavy wooden door dominated the far wall, and he ordered it open. The three of us did a little dance as Tanet and Isaac crowded in behind me, then I was ordered to close it again. Once I had secured what appeared to be the only exit, Tanet relaxed and barked orders at me until we reached a smattering of cells forged in a variety of metals.
Isaac got shoved into one with thick bars I would have bet money on was rusted iron. The maddening itch beneath my skin told me my own cell boasted tarnished silver. All that separated us was a double line of alternating metals. I could have reached through the bars and touched him if I didn’t mind a few blisters. Across from us, sitting on a cot, was our missing witch. Confined behind bars of gold, Enzo watched our procession from the corner of his eyes. I squelched the urge to call out to him and left my head drooped.
“There is only one way in or out of this dungeon, and there will be a full company of guards posted on the door you entered. I would stay in your cells if I were you. I’m not tolerant of disobedience.”
With my eyes downcast, I could pretend he was any of my previous alphas. Puffed up with his own importance, so sure of his superiority, he failed to see me. Maybe I ought to loosen my grip on the past and be thankful for what surviving all those years had taught me. Some ghosts, like Momma’s, I would never fully banish. But perhaps I owed her posthumous thanks. In her own self-serving way, she had prepared me for this life as much as Meemaw and Pawpaw.
None of us spoke until the outer door clanged shut. My voice overlapped Isaac’s when we asked Enzo, “What are you doing here?”
“The snowmen got me. They carried me back into Firn Hall and locked me up until our old pal Tanet came to claim me. I’ve been here ever since.” He crossed to the front of his cell and threaded his arms through the bars, propping on the cross braces. “I can’t complain. I expended too much magic cutting down that first snow creature, and the heating spell I was using ran out of juice.” He turned his hands palms up. “There’s a good chance I wouldn’t have survived if they hadn’t located me so quickly. They tended my wounds, and the meals come like clockwork.”
Unwilling to take the easy way out, I forged my guilt into words. “You’re not trying to make us feel better about ditching you, are you?”
“Maybe a little.” He pinched his thumb and finger together. “I might have lived, but I would have lost fingers or toes. Since I enjoy each of my twenty digits, I’m oddly grateful I was snatched.”
The tension coiled in my chest unfurled the tiniest bit, and I made the decision to accept his forgiveness.
“Isaac, you doing okay over there?” Like me, he had centered himself in his cell. “Is that iron?”
“Oh, it’s iron all right.” His voice came out thin. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. How about you?”
“As long as I don’t touch anything, I’ll be fine.” I shot Enzo a look. “Gold doesn’t affect witches, huh?”
“No metal does as far as I know.” He rolled a shoulder. “I got shoved in here so they could keep their options open.”
“They were expecting us, so it makes sense.” I retreated to my cot and sat on the edge. The potency of the silver in such close proximity made me woozy. “Have you learned a
nything useful?”
“Other than the king has arranged for a meeting of his war council next week, no.” Enzo popped his knuckles. “Now it’s your turn. What have you two been up to?”
While I ran down a list of our misadventures, Enzo’s eyes rounded like those foil-covered pirate doubloons you get at Halloween.
“You released the Morrigan? The Morrigan? The death goddess? That Morrigan?” Enzo slapped his palms against the bars in Isaac’s direction. “Did you ever stop to think the girl could have been in the bubble for a reason?”
“She was a little girl locked in an invisible bubble in an abandoned house,” he argued.
Enzo’s eyebrows inched higher up his forehead. “Exactly my point.”
“Forgive me for still having this thing called a conscience,” Isaac snapped. “You probably lost yours while experimenting on innocent wargs for science, but mine’s still intact.”
“Guys,” I cut them off. “What’s done is done. We need to focus on getting out of here, getting back to Earth and warning Thierry.”
Enzo resumed his casual pose. “What about the prince?”
“The prince matters less at this junction than one of us surviving to get a message through to the other side. His parents are slated for happy accidents, so if we could thwart the impending martyrdom of two dignitaries that would be great too.”
“You don’t ask for much, do you?” Isaac asked.
Sipping a shallow breath tinged with silver, I rallied my focus. “Have they let you out of your cell at all?”
“No.” Enzo gusted a miserable sigh. “The longer I stay here, the weaker my magic grows. I’m bound to Earth, and Faerie doesn’t play nice with me.”
“I hear you.” I drew my legs up into lotus position on the thin mattress. “It’s playing havoc with my shifting ability. My senses are going wonky too. They’re not as clear as they ought to be thanks to the magical miasma that is Faerie’s air.”
“So what’s the plan?” Isaac sat on his cot, away from the metal that must have been causing him the same nauseous reaction, and copied me right down to the folded legs. “How do we escape?”
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