Shade’s jaw clenched, but his determination didn’t falter. “She won’t refuse.”
“And if she does?” Valin insisted, because he knew Myanin nearly as well as Shade did. She was stubborn to a fault, fiercely independent, and obstinate as hell.
Shade reached back into memories he rarely allowed himself to dwell on—memories of Myanin before her fall, before her exile. Before her damn obsession with Thadrick took over every area of her life. The fire in her eyes, the defiance in her voice, the way she had always challenged him, even when she knew it would cost her. She had been his equal in every way, his opposite and his balance. And when she had been cast out, when the djinn had turned their backs on her, he had done nothing. His jealousy had eaten him from the inside out, and by the time he’d climbed out of that hole, she was gone.
“She won’t,” Shade said firmly. “If I have to choose between them, I’ll open the realm where Myanin is. Thadrick can rot. As for the warlock, I’ll deal with him if I must. If he’s separated from her, then he, too, can rot in whatever realm he’s been tossed in.”
The others didn’t argue, though their expressions were unreadable. Shade turned away from them, his grip tightening on theNushtoniaas he stared into the darkness beyond the clearing. The book pulsed faintly in his hands, its power waiting to be unleashed.
“Celise doesn’t know which realm they’re in,” Shade said after a moment. “But theNushtoniawill tell me. It holds more knowledge than we can possibly fathom. I’ll find her.” He looked over his shoulder at the three djinn. “And when I do, nothing—not a warlock, not a pack of wolves, not even Thadrick—will stand in my way.”
“What about the Realm of the Dead?” Raith shifted on his feet restlessly. “Why do you want to open it and let Raja out?”
Shade was not surprised that his comrade used the name of the ruler of the realm. Though many feared using his name, with him locked away, there was no risk in drawing his attention.
“I will let Celise have her fun and do much of the work of cleansing this realm,” Shade explained. “But, once her time is over, she will be the one to take the fall for sealing the veils, including Raja’s realm. He will want vengeance, and I will make sure he turns his attention on her. And anyone else that I need to be rid of.”
“Like a certain warlock general?” Edric asked with a sly smile.
Shade chuckled. “Exactly.”
Chapter 3
“I want children. I long for children. My heart squeezes with the desire to see the combination of mine and my mate’s genetics melted together into a little, bouncing being of cuteness for all the world to marvel over … said no fae ever in the history of ever. And for good reason.” ~ Peri
Peri paced the clearing like a caged panther, her boots grinding against the sparkling grit of the draheim realm’s ground. She was ready to murder the next person—or wolf, or child, or oversized lizard—that so much as breathed wrong. “I’m never volunteering to babysit these mongrels again,” Peri grumbled.
Her mate sat on a fallen log, one arm cradling Hope as she sucked greedily on her bottle. Slate was nestled at his side, staring up at Lucian like he was the greatest thing since... Well, Peri really didn’t know what kids thought was great. Maybe snacks? Or naps? A clean diaper? Either way, Slate was entranced.
“Why are they so calm?” she muttered, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m losing my ever-loving mind, and they’re just—what? Perfect little cherubs? Not fair.”
“Perhaps they’re calm because someone is actually providing them with care.” Lucian’s deep voice was laced with amusement. His silver eyes twinkled as he glanced at her.
Peri narrowed her eyes at him. “Care?I’mcaring. I’m very caring. I haven’t even killed anyone yet, have I?”
“Low bar, Love,” Lucian said dryly, adjusting Hope’s bottle as if he hadn’t just delivered a verbal smackdown.
Peri opened her mouth to retort, but a loud crash interrupted her, followed by a high-pitched giggle. She whipped around to see Thia darting through the clearing like a feral squirrel, her tiny arms flailing as she narrowly avoided a tree. Titus was right behind her, his face red with frustration.
“You’re not even trying, Tractor,” Peri called out, pointing at Titus. His head snapped up, his little face twisted in exasperation.
“It’s Titus, Aunt Peri,” he huffed, clearly offended. “And Iamtrying. She’s just … fast.”
“Fast and feral,” Peri muttered, crossing her arms. “Perfect combination.”
“Thia!” Titus barked. “Stop chewing on Serapha’s tail!”
“She’s learning to hunt, this is all part of the process,” Serapha called out from her spot near the edge of the clearing, her massive form sprawled like a lazy cat. Her glowing eyes blinked at Peri, calm as could be. “It’s natural.”
Peri planted her hands on her hips and shot Serapha a look. “Natural? She’s not a draheim young. She doesn’t need to gnaw on your tail like some kind of deranged beaver. And wolves aren’t cats, they don’t play with their food.”
“She’s experimenting,” Serapha replied with a shrug of her massive shoulders. “You should applaud her innovation.”
Peri threw her hands in the air. “Oh, sure. Let’s give her an award for ‘Most Likely to Bite the Wrong End of a Dragon.’”
Titus finally caught up to Thia and grabbed her by the back of her shirt. She flopped dramatically, letting out a wail that could’ve shattered glass. “I swat the fairy! I swat the fairy!” she screeched and kicked her legs.
Peri stopped mid-step, turning to glare at the girl. “I’d like to see you try, Pup,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. Thia just grinned, her tiny teeth flashing like a miniature predator. “You know,” she said, spinning on her heel to glare at Lucian, “I don’t remember signing up for this. You were supposed to be the one dealing with the kids.”
