“Yes, but we need them.” Eraldon steps toward me, his dark eyes holding me in place. “I have seekers, but I need fae as well. I already have one on the inside, a lord with dark tastes and high ambitions. Once the night realm is mine, all will be under my control. The day will fall, and then we’ll march on the other realms.” He runs a claw down my throat. “Your bloodlust is admirable, of course.”
I smile, my fangs lengthening. “When do we move?”
He reaches around and grips my braid, then pulls until I’m at his mercy, my neck creaking from the strain. “We move whenIsay we move.”
“Soon, then?” I bait him.
“How did that pathetic Daylander ever keep you under his thumb?” His gaze flicks to my lips. “You’re far too fiery.”
“Daylander?” I blink.
His eyes cloud for a moment, then he re-focuses. “Yes, the one who stole you. Remember? The one who forced you to be his consort and killed the other female changelings he took from my realm.”
I try to place what he’s saying, but then it comes back to me. He’s right. The king of day kidnapped me. He’s a monster. He murdered the other would-be consorts, tortured and maimed them all. We have to stop him.
“When the rest of the Nightland fae see you take your rightful place on the throne, they’ll fall in line.” I slide my tongue across my fang and enjoy the taste of my own blood. “And if they don’t, we’ll have them for supper.” I like the idea of nobles on a platter.
Eraldon smiles like an indulgent father. “The fae haven’t been kind to my Emma.”
“And I won’t be kind to them.” I spread my wings farther and stride toward the window.
“You’re not strong enough yet,” Eraldon chides.
“We’ll see.” I launch myself from the upper lair of the ruined castle and plummet straight down. My wings spread and catch the wind, then jerk me forward. With a pained scream, I cut through the night sky, the moon glowing down on me in rays of peace as I struggle to master myself.
I don’t soar. I barely glide, but I won’t stop trying. Forcing my muscles to work, I flap my wings and start to climb. But I’m wobbly, my body already tired from the onslaught of wind. My wings move, but unevenly.
A fir tree rushes up toward me, and I throw out my arms as I crash into the top branches and bounce off, then fall downward, hitting limbs as I go. I’m about to crash into the forest floor when I stop.
“You’re rash.” Eraldon strides up next to me and lowers me to the ground.
I sit up and lean against the tree that just thrashed me, then wipe the blood that wells on my cheek.
He kneels in front of me and with a quick movement, licks the blood away. “It’s because you’re young.”
“I’m not in the bloom of my youth …” Those familiar words fade. Where did I learn that silly phrase?
“Your mother.” Eraldon pushes a stray lock of hair from my face and tucks it back into my braid. “She used to say that. Until Solano took her and killed her. I tried to get to her when I heard Solano wanted her head, but when I arrived at your home, she was gone.”
I lean back against the trunk, loathing springing to life inside me. “She never hurt anyone. She was so kind.”
“She loved you.” He strokes my cheek with his cold fingers. “That’s why she spoke out against Solano for taking you as his consort, for stealing you away and taking you against your will. He came for her. It’s what he does. He takes and hurts and kills.”
My eyes tingle and water as I think of her. My memories are fuzzy, though I can’t figure out why. But it doesn’t matter. I can still see her darning socks by the fire, her red hair the same shade as mine with gray streaks added for wisdom.
“Solano killed her?” Did I already know that? I can’t tell.
“Yes, my pet.” He licks my cheek again. “He kills any who stand against him. Remember the other changelings, the ones he brought to the Daylands unwarded? They were beaten and burned. I’m sorry to say he hates your kind.”
I hold out my hand and look at my sharp nails that seem almost like claws now. “What about our kind?” I meet his gaze and find a hard comfort there, an anguished ease. I fall into it.
“He hates us, too.” He settles beside me and pulls me into his lap, holding me like I’m a wayward child.
“Why?” I rest my head in the crook of his neck.
“Because we’re a threat.”
A wolf howls, and we both center on the distant sound.
