It wasn’t gray. It wasn’t black. It was somewhere in between, and it stood as if waiting for someone stupid enough to attempt to take it from the unseelie.
I shivered. “It’s freezing,” I muttered.
Next to me, Kyla looked unconcerned. I scowled. “You’re not cold?”
She grinned at me. “If I get really cold, it’ll interfere with my shift, but it would have to be much, much colder than this.”
Vas didn’t seem concerned either. I shrugged and jiggled a little in an attempt to warm up.
Four guards were marching toward us, in step. Their uniforms were the same color as the keep, with burnished gold buttons. Their boots had been polished to a dull gleam.
The unseelie king obviously ran a tight ship around here. The guards halted, and one of them stepped forward.
“State your business.”
Vas cleared his throat. “Do you not recognize Samael’s bondmate?”
The guard’s gaze dropped to the gold swirls on my arm and his eyes widened.
“I need to speak with the king.” I didn’t have Samael’s threatening undertone, but the guard nodded anyway.
“Certainly.”
He didn’t ask us to remove our weapons. He’d obviously determined we were no threat to the king, but it was a dumb move. Samael’s demons would’ve stripped us of anything sharp and pointy before we got within twenty feet of the place.
If this conversation went badly, Finvarra could declare war. And he would be alone in a room with three people who were highly motivated to make sure that wouldn’t happen.
Of course, we’d be dead soon after, but desperate people did stupid things.
We approached the steps leading to the entrance of the keep. One of the guards waiting for us was one I’d seen before at Samael’s tower. He nodded at us.
“Follow me,” he said, and we trailed after him.
I didn’t know if there was a throne room in this place, but if there was, Finvarra had chosen not to use it.
He was waiting for us in a library so large, it almost gave me goosebumps. Next to me, Kyla inhaled sharply, her eyes wide with wonder as she scanned the long walls packed with books. Above us, a mezzanine was packed with more books, and I gave it a quick scan for signs of movement before returning my attention to Finvarra.
The unseelie king wore unrelenting black, with an obsidian crown glinting with jewels. This may not have been a throne room, but he sat on the huge, wing-backed chair as if it were a throne, watching as we approached.
His ears were as sharply pointed as my blades, his gold eyes glittered with ire, and he radiated pure, lethal threat.
Gone was the man who had pretended to be charming. Who had told me to call him ‘Fin.’ In his place was a man who made me wonder just how long it would take him to kill us if this turned bad.
True fear took up residence deep in my chest. My instincts knew damn well that this ancient being was the scariest predator in the room.
Vas was a silent shadow behind us. In spite of my orders, Vas would fight to the death to give us enough time to run.
Next to me, Kyla was so still she could have been stone. Finvarra’s gaze slid to her.
“A female wolf,” he murmured. “Myth given life.”
“That’s me,” Kyla sent him a shit-eating grin, and I could barely see the strain in it. “I’m mythical alright.”
I shot her a look and she winked at me. Obviously, she’d taken that whole ‘entertainment’ thing seriously. Behind us, Vas shifted on his feet, clearly unhappy with this whole plan.
Finvarra didn’t bother offering us a seat. He merely scanned both of us, lingering on Kyla for a long moment before his cold, burnished gold eyes met mine.
“You have been meeting with my enemy, Ms. Amana.”
