A woman’s voice interrupted Loche, whose facehardened. “He’s a shifter without powers. Completely useless.”
It wasn’t only Lessia who spun around to glare at the rebel leader in the second row. Meyah’s head peeked over the seated rebels in the line before her as the chains weighing her down clattered at her wrists.
“He’s keeping his own mother down here. Don’t be fooled that he’ll let you go,” Meyah continued, her gray eyes glittering as they met Lessia’s. “He only wants power. Like the rest of them.”
“Do you want me to kill her?” Merrick offered as Loche, to his credit, only rolled his eyes. “Might be helpful to give the others a chance to listen.”
“No. If Loche doesn’t want to do it, she is mine,” Raine snarled.
Lessia wasn’t prepared for the fury in his hazel eyes as they brushed by hers, but as she saw them land on Frelina—whom Meyah had taken from them and delivered straight to her uncle—the glacial rage simmering in the green and gold wasn’t too difficult to understand.
“No one is killing anyone,” Iviry broke in, her words laced with the demand of a leader. “We’ve come to offer you the opportunity to join us. Let us stop the invasion and instead find a way to live together.”
“Don’t trust any of them! That golden-eyed one killed her uncle! Our king!” one of the Vastala Fae yelled. “And she betrayed the Ellow regent before that! She has mind control powers. Look at how she’s tamed the Death Whisperer, for gods’ sake! He’s clearly out of his mind, mating with a half-br?—”
Merrick was gone from her side before she even had time to say stop, and chaos ensued as his hand wrapped around the Fae’s neck, dragging him against the bars.Merrick’s whispers—which awoke within Lessia, too—began booming through the room, and rebels and Fae alike started screaming.
Worry rushed over her skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake. She stumbled as she tried to get to Merrick, and she wasn’t sure whose arms slipped under her own to keep her upright as she closed her eyes, forcing those whispers away.
It was strange—she could feel Merrick fighting her, that golden thread so clear in her mind vibrating with anger. But when she touched it, only gently, careful not to tug, it was as if that anger evaporated, and the whispers faded from the room as quickly as they’d appeared.
Merrick’s chest heaved as he pulled the Fae against the bars once more—so hard that the Vastala male lost consciousness, his body crumpling to the floor—and then he was back at her side, replacing Kerym’s arms with his own.
She could feel his guilt, but there was also a tiredness in it—one that resounded within herself—and she only shook her head when Merrick started to say something.
“He was a bastard,” she said. “But you need to stop striking people. At least for now.”
Merrick seemed as if he was about to argue—she could tell anI won’t fucking promise thatwas at the tip of his tongue. Still, when she slipped a hand under his tunic, letting her nails drag down his back like she’d done yesterday when he pounded into her, and threw him a pointed look, the Death Whisperer snapped his mouth shut.
She was tempted to praise him—whispergood boy, like he liked to commend her—but that might be pushing it, so instead she turned to Loche, who appearedentirely too amused by the situation, especially since some of the shifters kept Meyah back, one of them hissing, “You lied to us too. We would have died if it weren’t for the half-Fae.”
A few others made concurring sounds, and that was enough for Lessia to go through with the idea that had started to brew within her. Eyes bouncing between Iviry, who shook her head at Merrick, although she didn’t seem particularly annoyed—probably because this was normal Fae behavior—and Loche, Lessia asked, “May I speak?”
Their nods mirrored each other, and while a torrent of apprehension swept through her that had Merrick frown and try to step closer, she only caressed his back again before stepping out into the rounded space Loche and Iviry backed away from, allowing her more room.
“I did kill my uncle,” Lessia said as her shaking fingers moved to unclasp her drenched cloak, the fabric falling to the ground with a thud. “But if I hadn’t, most of you would have been dead. Rebel, Fae, human. It didn’t matter to Rioner Rantzier.” Her eyes moved to the Oakgards’ Fae. “You as well. You said that you didn’t trust him… I think that was clever. Because he’d have found a way to kill you all as well.”
As her hands moved to the buttons keeping her tunic together, curious whispers swept through the crowd of people on all sides, but thankfully, it remained mostly silent, with sharp breaths and the occasional clatter of teeth the only sounds joining the wind that hit the broken stone walls.
“I did betray Loche,” Lessia continued as she undid the first button. “But if I hadn’t, Rioner would have killed me, and probably most of his people.”
Lessia undid another button, and she knew she’d decided to do this herself, but she looked to Merrick to gather strength. He seemed to have understood what she was doing because there was a shine to his eyes that she knew he didn’t allow often—a softness and warmth that made her fall even more in love with him.
His gaze held hers the entire time she undid her tunic and let it join the cloak on the floor, the breeze that wrapped around her naked chest and stomach somehow seeming less threatening with every moment she stood there.
Lessia wasn’t sure if it was entirely silent only to her ears, but to her, it was deafening—almost suffocating—as she spoke again, her eyes never leaving Merrick’s.
“This is what Loche’s people did to me.” Her arm shot out, the flames flickering on the harsh traitor mark winding its way up her arm, the black letters somehow contrasting to her skin even more in these cellars.
Her other hand waved toward her torso, where Merrick’s name was branded every few inches, then to the weak outline of the snake that had been her blood oath. “This is what Rioner’s people did to me. And this”—she lifted her hand to touch her nose, where that nosebleed had started once more—“this is what you all did to me. This is what’s happening to me. To Merrick. All because I died for you. We all keep doing this to each other! Don’t you see that?”
She waited for a second, hearing her sister’s soft gasp, and was grateful when Raine’s low voice joined it, soothing words being whispered into her sister’s ear.
“I have been branded.” She cleared her throat. “I have been shunned by two people… I am never Fae enough. I am never human enough. I have lived on the streets and inhiding and in fear. I know what desperation tastes like!” Lessia’s voice carried strongly even as she watched a lonely tear trickle down Merrick’s cheek. “I know what you all are fighting for! But we want the same thing! I died for it. Because I believe so much that we canallhave that.”
Lessia swallowed when her eyes drew to the side and she realized it wasn’t only Merrick who was crying. Her sister, Raine, Loche, Kerym, the witches, and even Iviry wiped at her face with the back of her hand.
“Iviry and Loche are marrying to join our lands—you’ll have a shifter and a human and a Fae leading Havlands. Help them build it up again! Help them unite us, rather than dividing us. Because when we’re united… we’re unstoppable!” Lessia moved her gaze to the Fae who had taunted her before. “Let us save your people. Let us help you. We will find a way to survive together.”
