“I told you to stay away from me,” Thyra growled.
“And I have.For days.” Thantrel’s voice soundedstrained, as if he’d been planning this approach for some time and could barely contain himself.
“I understand your shock,” Thantrel added. “I was surprised to find you as well. To recognize you as my mate. Although my appearance is clearly not to your taste, I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want our bond to snap into place. Doesn’t it hurt you to feel it and deny it?”
Her back was turned to me, but for the briefest moment, Thyra’s shoulders softened.
“I never said you weren’t to my taste,” she muttered. “Just that your eyeliner and hair are distracting.”
Thantrel’s lips curled into a flirty smile that I’d seen before, and my heart clenched. She gave him one small consolation, and he was about to run with it.
“I promise if you give me a chance, you’ll come to like me,” he said. “I’ve rarely had complaints from females—and you, well, you’re not just a female I fancy. You’re the one my soul longs for. Wants to protect. To love.”
I pressed my lips together, shocked by his openness at what he wanted, thinking that it would have worked on many. Including me, if I was not already mated. Thyra, as always, was of another mind. She shook her head and became all tension and anger again.
“What hurts me is knowing that you have a lot of power to distract me from what I’ve worked for all my life.” Her finger pressed into Thantrel’s chest.
Though I was sure she was not being gentle, the touch made Thantrel’s eyes light up.
“And if I were to accept a mating bond, it would not be with a lordling whose family was raised by the male Idespise. A new noble family who sits in my mother’s ancestral home! The home her family occupied for millennia, but now they cannot because they are all dead! What did your father do to gain a seat at the table of the Sacred Eight, Thantrel?”
I blinked. Thyra raised a question I’d not much considered. Lord Riis had always been kind and helped Vale and me out quite a bit. What had the spymaster done to be raised in society?
At her question, Thantrel licked his lips, uneasy. “I can’t say. I wasn’t born until the end of the White Bear’s Rebellion.”
“You never asked? Never wondered how a merchant rose so high? How he leaped over jarls who had been faithful bannerfae to the House of Aaberg for as long as that ancient house existed?”
“I did not.”
Thyra scoffed. “Then I’m right to reject you. No mate of mine will be so dimwitted, and a pretty face cannot make up for those failings.” She stepped back and away, leaving me facing Thantrel. “Leave me alone. I’m about to undertake a mission to change the fate of the rebellion. Of those of Winter’s Realm. I require no distractions.”
She marched off, snow crunching under her boots.
Thantrel watched her go, longing in his eyes, and misery written all over his lovely face.
Chapter 32
VALE
After an uncomfortable journey west, we reached Vitvik in the late afternoon.
The savory scent of meat pies baking for supper filled my nostrils, and my mouth watered as I pulled my hood over my head. I wished we could stay the night in Vitvik and advance in the morning, but all those involved in planning the separate heists agreed it would be best to visit the coinaries near the closing hour. Fewer leprechauns would be working meant fewer witnesses.
“People are staring,” Neve whispered.
“Of course they are. We’re fifteen fae riding into a small city where many fae have lived their entire lives. Keep your hood up and your hair tucked away. They won’t recognize you. Or the vampires.”
Aside from the fact that everyone wore unremarkable, thick, fur cloaks and kept their hoods up, we’d both already vanished our wings, making it seem like we were among the unfortunate faeries to be born with none. The color of mywings—Vagle black—and Neve’s silver were too noticeable when paired together.
“Directions to the brothel? One with a tavern below for the less adventurous fae in our party?” Bac asked so many could hear.
A plump brownie arched his eyebrows at that but gave directions.
We already knew the location of the brothel owned by Lord Leyv Riis, but Bac’s query was sticking to the plan. We were casual travelers, looking for a night of fun and debauchery. No one who knew that would think twice about us.
Back on our way, a soft song came from Bac’s lips, one echoed by Thyra and two other rebels.
I’d spent time speaking with Bac the night prior. He didn’t just resemble Sian and Filip, he acted like the Balik males too.
