I raise a finger. “Hold that thought for just two minutes.”
Releasing Quinn’s hand, I approach the glass. I don’t recognize myself. I almost expected to see a child on the other side. Last time I was face-to-face with a mirror, I was a boy. I was thinner. Shorter. Younger. Smoother.
Running a hand over my jaw, I feel the rough stubble and watch the way my skin stretches. I note the higher cheekbones, sharper jaw, and how my nose has grown.
I puff out my chest and flex my muscles. I turn so I can see how my butt looks in leather.
Quinn’s right. By regular standards, I’m a stud.
“Whatever you’re doing, we don’t have time for it,” Damon snips impatiently, interrupting my self-appreciation.
“All right.” I face him. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll let Gemma tell you herself.”
Suddenly, a sprite flies in front of my face, and she’s a blur of sparkles. Wings, hair, clothes—all blue. I’m surprised, and a bit alarmed, to realize I had no idea she was trailing us. I didn’t hear her wings flapping. Didn’t sense her movement in the air.
I’ve been so consumed by what I’m seeing, I’m not paying attention to what’s going on around me. Not good. I can’t let my other senses fall to the wayside. They’ve protected me, guided me, kept me alive.
Quinn gawks at the little sprite.
On our road trip, we’d passed by a couple sprite forests, but they couldn’t be bothered with our presence. Many sprites consider themselves separate from the kingdom. They don’t do our bidding without hefty rewards, usually requesting gold or jewels for their tiny treehouses. And we pay them well for their ability to send word across the entire realm within hours.
“She’s so pretty,” Quinn says with amazement. “I’ve never seen one up close. Her wings move so fast, like a hummingbird.”
“I’m right here,” the sprite harrumphs, her voice high and reedy. “You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not in the room.”
“Sorry,” Quinn responds, adequately chastised.
Sprites are known for their saucy attitudes, but I won’t let Quinn get lectured for simply making an observation.
I bristle, shooting daggers at the little troublemaker. “If I didn’t need your message so badly, I’d send you away for being rude to my mate.” Shocked, the sprite flies back a little when she realizes I can see her. Raising an eyebrow, I nod. “That’s right.”
“Forgive me, night king.” She bows her head. “I was told your mate had perished.”
“Still—” I start to argue with her, but Quinn cuts me off.
“What’s your name again?”
“Gemma.”
“You must be exhausted after flying for so many hours.”
“Yes.” Gemma pouts, milking Quinn’s compassion.
“If you need a place to rest, I’ve got two good shoulders.” Quinn looks at me and whispers, “Or is that offensive to offer?”
“No,” Gemma answers with a tinkling giggle. “I’ll get to tell everyone I sat on the queen.”
She isn’t shy about taking Quinn up on it. Flying around us twice, she lands on Quinn’s right shoulder, primly crossing one leg over the other as she looks in my direction.
“I need you to promise no harm will come to me. If I’m found out, she’ll kill me.”
“Who?” I ask. “Princess Gia?”
“Yes.”
“Of course we’ll keep you safe here,” I offer up Damon’s castle, knowing he wouldn’t refuse. “Your risk won’t go unrewarded, either.”
“And my family?”
“Refuge will be available to all who need it,” Damon interjects. “Now, for the love of the constellations, tell us.”
“I have a message from Queen Zella,” Gemma states formally, before her voice changes and becomes an exact replica of my mother’s. “Come home quickly, my son. Gia’s out of control. She made trade deals with the Day Realm. Some of our females have been sent away for breeding against their will. Gnomes and trolls have been sent to harvest Day water. Some of them… they’re children, Kirian.” There’s a sob, then she continues, “Your father has gone to retrieve them. The treaty will be no more, and I fear war will be in our future. Be careful when you enter Delaveria. Gia’s powers are… unleashed.”
Well, strike it all. It’s been a long time since I heard my mother sound so shaken.
Quinn grips my forearm and looks up at me with concern. I know how much our people mean to her. Especially the gnomes.
I have to make this right. Fast. “Gemma, do you have the energy to deliver another message to the citadel in Aelustria?”
“I’ll require four rubies.”
“All right.”
“And twelve emeralds.”
I growl, because she’s pushing it. “Fine. Go to Torius. Give him this message: Torius and Kai, I owe you an apology. If you’re not already aware of what’s going on in Delaveria, just know I need you to meet me there as soon as possible. Bring reinforcements.”
As soon as I give Gemma a nod, letting her know I’m finished, she takes off, zipping away so quickly I almost can’t see her.
Whistling, Damon rakes a hand through his hair. “This is low, even for Gia.”
“It gets worse.” Needing comfort, I hug my mate from behind. “Gia’s the one who tried to kill Quinn.”
“Your own sister,” Damon mutters, shaking his head. “I should’ve suspected. It’s not like this hasn’t happened before.”
I know he’s referring to the rift between our own fathers or the deadly altercation between Zarid and Zed. The royal fae families of Valora don’t have the best history when it comes to greed and the pursuit of power.
“I wonder what resource she traded for.” Damon’s face is pinched with a thoughtful expression as he paces away before turning back. “King Zarid’s been gunning for this for a long time. Our females would go at a high price.”
A couple tidbits from Gemma’s message stand out to me—harvesting Day water and unleashed powers.
“I’d bet my best axe it’s distilled Day water.” Grabbing Quinn’s hand, I start walking down the hall. “Damon, are you coming with us to Delaveria?”
Running up beside me, he grins. “Wouldn’t miss it for
