Dimly aware of Jae hissing my name, I step in front of her, drawing to my full height. I may only have root magic, but my genius is not drained. Dominik bares his canines.
I bare mine back.
“No one comes between us,” the male seethes. “No one.”
Instead, the Heir of Illusion grabs me, yanking me into his chest. Another hand clamps down on my startled cry. Dominik reeks of wine and sweat and something stronger. He’s not just angry; he’s drunk and unraveling.
A frozen whisper in my ear. “Now, you’re going to behave—”
I bite his palm and the fae grunts.
“You just made it so much worse,” he says. Then he lets go. I sway for a moment.
“Avvie?” a small voice asks behind us.
Benji.
I forgot he was there, and that was the point of his role tonight. I glance back to see Benji and Jae looking at me with expressions of undiluted terror. Before I can tell them it’ll be okay, Dominik shoves me toward the dais. I tumble toward the ground, but invisible hands right me on my feet, squeezing my arms.
“Lord Dominik?” the king asks, sitting forward.
Before me are the most powerful males in the realm. King Maxian Vandorne, his advisor, the executioner, and the Head of Healing. Their gazes all fall onto me, and my body trembles with the power flooding the plane. If it weren’t for Dominik’s invisible hands, I would not stay upright.
“Our most loyal night servant.” Dominik gestures. “You may have her.”
My stomach bottoms out.
If I go to Reign, what will happen to Jeremee and Benji? I can’t slip coins in their pockets if I no longer live in the Nest. I’ve never even met another faerie from the center of Versara. No, it’s too soon. Jae and I are talking tomorrow.
Please don’t let me go,I think.Please.
“She is yours,” Dominik tells the king.
“Wait!” Kassandra cries from behind us.
Surprise murmurs through the crowd.
The king’s attention slips over my shoulder, his forehead shiny, the crown crooked.
He’s drunk,I understand.They’re all drunk.The service has been going on for hours, and they’re bored. Bored fae break things for fun.
“Lady Kassandra?” the king asks.
A shuffling of feet, then a pause.
I understand even as a faerie:Illusion looks divided.
“She…” Kassandra clears her throat. “She does my hair the way I like.”
Dominik pinches the bridge of his nose.
The king’s attention swivels back to me, a grin tugging at his lips. Every part of me screams to drop to my knees, to look away. A primal instinct, bowing to the stronger predator. Yet I plead with the king, unmasking my fear and desperation and hope, purging my potent genius onto the plane around us.
He cocks his head, nostrils flaring.
“We can share her, if you’d like,” he says. “A gesture of goodwill, as your brother calls it.”
“Your Magnificence, do not feel for my sister over this servant. Kassandra gets attached easily—”
