My mate.
She was standing before my father’s throne, her spine straight and her shoulders tense.
“Tread carefully, Ryker,” Riordan warned before disappearing into the crowd.
He was likely searching for Callum. That thought dulled the fury burning in my chest. Cadence would want her brother protected.
I continued toward the dais, and courtiers scattered the closer I came, pressing themselves against the walls as if they could disappear into the stone.
My father sat on his throne, one leg crossed over the other, the picture of arrogance. His hands were steepled beneath his chin, and his eyes tracked me as I made my approach.
“Son,” he drawled from his gilded seat, his voice carrying across the cavernous room. “How kind of you to join us… uninvited as you are.”
I ignored him as I crossed the polished floor to where Cadence stood. The air surrounding me darkened with each step as my shadows pooled at my feet like spilled ink.
“Are you all right, Temptress?” I asked low enough that only she could hear.
She gave a slight nod, but I could feel her anxiety radiating down the bond like a second heartbeat. I wrapped my arm around her waist, and she sank into my embrace, letting me know something was very wrong.
“I was just explaining to your wife the purpose of my summons.”
“Listen closely, Father, as I will only say this once. If you ever send men after my wife again, I’ll rip out your throat without blinking.”
My father stiffened, but quickly regained his composure. “There is no need for threats, Son. We were merely having a friendly chat.”
“Whatever you have to say to Cadence, you can say to me.”
“Very well,” my father said as he straightened his coat. “I have received notice of an objection.”
“Speak plainly. An objection to what?”
My father’s gaze locked onto mine, and a small smirk pulled up his lips.
“The Unseelie Fae have a proud history of strong leadership. Our monarchs have always been powerful, cunning, and ruthless.”
Murmurs of approval broke out amongst the crowd, and my father lifted his hand to silence them.
“We have worked to ensure our bloodlines remain… pure, potent even.” His eyes darted to Cadence in disgust, and a low growl rumbled up my throat in warning.
“Centuries ago,” my father went on, “our ancestors anticipated that future monarchs might make… unwise choices in their betrothals. To safeguard the Unseelie Fae from an unworthy ruler, and to prevent the dilution of our bloodlines, they established the Ascension Rite.”
My thoughts reeled as I tried to recall anything I might have learned about such a rite, but nothing came to mind.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Riordan said as he stepped forward, claiming the position to my left.
“Oh, I promise you, it exists.” My father snapped his fingers, and a man appeared with an old leather-bound tome. The look on his face said it all.
He wasn’t playing.
“It is right here.”
Riordan marched toward the dais, ascending the stairs two at a time. I remained beside Cadence, unwilling to leave her side in this den of vipers, even for a moment.
My brother scanned the pages before he lifted his gaze and gave me a slight shake of his head.
My father had spoken the truth.
“The rite entails a series of trials to test the strength of the proposed ruler. You have taken Cadence as your wife, andtherefore, she is destined to be the next Queen of the Unseelie Fae.”
