Twirling a lock of my hair around her finger, she grins. “I guess that means you’ll get to hear me pee a lot more, huh?”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, her humor pulls a chuckle from me. “I have a feeling we’re going to learn a lot more about each other in a very short amount of time.”
Kirian
As with any morning after a big party, the great hall has been transformed into a grand breakfast. The thirty-foot dining table is covered in trays full of pastries, cured meats, five different types of eggs, and fruit juice from the palace orchards.
The chairs are filled with the highest nobles. The ones who get the privilege of staying in the guest wing the night after a big event. Some are old friends. Some are trusted and revered council members.
Every single one of them are suspects to me.
Pacing behind the chairs, I sniff the air.
I can sense the confusion and nerves from the occupants. Most of them don’t understand why I’m acting so strangely. Only the perpetrator knows I’m hunting for a hint of the portal smell. It’s similar to the way earth smells right before it rains, and it coats the skin. Sometimes the scent lingers for a day or so afterward.
But I come up with nothing.
“Several hours ago, someone tried to harm my mate,” I tell the room. The clink of silverware on plates stops as everyone gives me their full attention. “I guess the threat of banishment and execution wasn’t enough. If I find out who did it, the punishment will be worse. I’m thinking an iron spike to the heart.”
Everyone, including my parents, gasps.
The iron spike is one of the cruelest deaths. Agonizing. Slow and painful.
See, getting run through the heart with iron will kill a faerie, but not right away. It can take as long as five days.
Once the iron gets into the heart of the impaled fae, it pumps the infected blood to the entire body, causing twitching, seizures, organ failure, and internal bleeding. Eventually, the fingers and other extremities turn black and shrivel before falling off. All of this happens before death relieves the suffering.
I’ve witnessed men cry and writhe and beg for the end.
I, myself, have doled out this particular punishment three times. They were all Day Realm males who dared to steal a female from the Night Realm. But it wasn’t just the forced breeding they inflicted on my people that triggered my temper. No, it was the fact that the girls were children—fifteen or younger. Not even old enough to procreate. When I heard the cries of the girls who’d been rescued too late, all I could think about was Quinn. How angry I’d be if someone did something like that to her.
In the Night Realm, torture is seen as barbaric, but I don’t fuck around with that shit.
And I’m not fucking around now.
I stop behind Quinn’s chair and reach out to lovingly caress her face. “Are you well, love?”
“Yep. Gia gave me another dress, and she let me have the last gooseberry tart.”
“That’s four gifts or favors,” my sister interjects happily, brushing her hands together as if she’s physically ridding herself of the honeysuckle debt.
It’s amusing. Gia never did like owing anyone anything.
“I need a word with King Damon before our departure,” I say toward the chair my cousin occupies next to my father. Then I lower my mouth to Quinn’s ear. “I’ll be where you can see me. Don’t go anywhere.”
My lips brush against her flesh with every syllable. It’s not a kiss, but it affects her. Heat bursts from her skin and her pulse skyrockets.
I love what I can do to her with just a simple touch.
A chair scoots back, and Damon follows me to the other end of the room.
Once we’re away from nosy ears, I quietly ask, “Will you travel with us to the Dream Realm? I don’t know your witch. She might be more willing to do business with me if you’re present.”
“I figured you’d say that. That’s why I asked Torius to prepare a caravan. I’m ready to go whenever you are.”
“Thank you,” I sigh, relieved.
If there’s one person I trust with my life—with Quinn’s life, for that matter—it’s Torius. We’ve known each other since we were children. We trained together, fought together, won battles side by side. I know he’ll choose a good crew to travel with us.
“There’s just one problem,” Damon says, rocking back on his heels.
“What’s that?”
“Astrid isn’t in the Dream Realm. She lives in the Shadowlands.”
Quinn
Good news: Kirian isn’t gung-ho about finding his true mate.
Bad news: Someone’s trying to murder me.
Speaking of murder, Kirian really knows how to kill a mood.
Before he made his morbid announcement, everyone was cheerfully eating, and several fae were actually talking to me. One woman had heard the famous honeysuckle wine was from my field and she told me the gooseberries from the tart I liked so much were harvested from her estate.
That was as far as the conversation got before Buzz Killington spoke up.
Now I’m getting the silent treatment. Everyone’s eyes are downcast, as if their plates suddenly became the most interesting thing they’ve ever seen. It’s like they’re too afraid to even look at me.
As I nibble on a biscuit, everyone eats quickly and makes a polite exit. One by one the table clears out.
I glance over at Kirian. He’s still talking to Damon, and they both look so serious.
“I owe you an apology.”
I follow the voice to Gia, and for a second, I’m so shocked at what she said, I look around to see if she’s talking to someone else. But she’s staring right at me with those lavender
