I nodded my agreement, if only to get him to let me go. He loosened his hold on me and I darted away. The moment we separated, Lark appeared between us and the male Fae was blasted off of his feet by some invisible force. He went flying a few meters away, sprawling in the dirt, clamoring back to his feet a moment later.
Lark prowled toward him, his eyes a darker shade than I had ever seen them, narrowed into a glare of pure, unadulterated hatred. My lips parted in shock at the sight. He lifted a hand and a crack reverberated through the streets. The male who had been holding a knife to me just moments ago was on the ground again, howling in agony. I gave a soft gasp and then Cass was in front of me, cradling my head in her arms and turning me away. She was hushing me, wiping tears away that I hadn’t realized I’d shed. The next crack was even louder and I jumped against her as I turned into her, breath coming in hitched, shaky gasps.
Lark muttered something I couldn’t hear from this distance and then there was one last crack before the man’s screaming stopped entirely.
“Is he—” I started to ask when Lark approached us, frowning.
“He will wake up,” Lark answered before I could finish my question. “And when he does, he will remember not to touch a lady without her consent.”
I shuddered at the darkness in his eyes, the cold cruelty, the memory of how easy it had been for him to shatter the man’s bones and leave him unconscious in the street. And I couldn’t help but think of Cass’ words from before.
We let everyone believe we’re so evil, so wicked. We aren’t.
Weren’t they?
Lark’s frown deepened as if he understood where my train of thought had gone but before either of us could say a word, ten men appeared surrounding us. Cass gasped and pulled me closer, protectively. Rook fell back, drawing one of the two swords he kept crossed at his back, and took up a defensive stance. Lark didn’t even look surprised. He just kept his eyes on mine, searching.
“Canis Morningstar,” one of the men formally announced but Lark did not remove his gaze from me even then. “You have been found in violation of your sentence of exile. Come with us willingly to face your punishment.”
Lark’s jaw twitched but he held out his hands, eyes still on mine. They stepped forward and clasped chains around his wrists made of some metal I couldn’t identify. But I could feel it. Even from here. The suffocating heaviness of the material made my eyes droop as if I were suddenly more exhausted than I’d ever been. Lark didn’t look away from me but I saw his power dim, that bright, pulsing purple glow lessening, retreating within him and my lips parted slightly as I understood.
The trace. They had found him because he had used his powers to protect me, to save me.
I gaped at empty space as they were all gone as suddenly as they had appeared, taking Lark and Rook with them. Rook had violated his own exile as well.
Cass and I were alone now, huddling together in the street. She took a deep, shaky breath and then let go of me, slowly, carefully, as if afraid I might break apart if she moved too quickly.
“What—” I stuttered. “Where—”
“I have to speak with my father,” Cass interrupted me, pacing away on the street, “before he punishes Lark. I have to go, Ren, now. So if you want me to take you back to the mortal plane first, I need to know—”
“No,” I answered, shaking my head. “No. This is my fault. He only used his magic because of me. They only found us because of me. I want to help, Cass. Just tell me how I can help.”
She watched me for a moment, warily, considering my plea. But we were running out of time and she knew it. We didn’t have the luxury of distrusting each other. Not anymore.
So she gave one quick nod and strode back to me, grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze.
“Don’t say anything,” she warned. “When we get there, no matter who speaks to you, no matter what they ask, don’t say anything.”
Before I could so much as nod my agreement, we were hurtling through space and time toward the Court of Blood and Bone, toward her home.
Chapter seventeen
A Halfling and A Cursed King
“Casseiopia.WhyamInot surprised?”
“Father, please. Just listen.”
They were already talking before I could even right myself. I stumbled sideways, reaching out blindly and finding a table to brace myself upon. Once the room stopped spinning, I looked up from where I leaned against an enormous mass of obsidian molded into the shape of a dining table to find Cass, with arms outstretched, imploring a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and immaculate thick eyebrows. I fought the nausea roiling in my gut to stand up straighter and keep my mouth shut, as instructed.
“Your sister told me you’d go to him,” the man said in a tone that seemed utterly exhausted. “That you’d help him find his way back somehow.”
“I didn’t,” Cass argued. “I didn’t help him back, father. He called me when he was back and I went to him. Of course I did. But I didn’t break the banishment. I didn’t bring him back. But father, please—”
“Forty more years, Casseiopia. That’s all he needed to stay away for. Forty more years and his sentence would have been up. He could have returned to open arms and welcoming embraces.”
“A welcoming embrace. Is that what you call Ursa trying to slit his throat?”
