“No!” I cry again.
Dominik crashes into me. I twist, swinging a left hook at histemple with all my weight behind it. His head snaps back, eyes bloodshot. Body bleeding beneath the fae, the only weapon I have left is magic that is too powerful for a faerie. That I should always hide and that has never protected my loved ones before. All it has ever done is rot.
So I let it rot.
“What are you doing?” Dominik rears back, disgusted.
I release my genius and it contacts the plane, oozing stink like a decaying corpse. My anger and hatred and grief permeate the air around us. Heat erupts in my palms, singeing the carpet, but no flame comes.
“Stop that!” The slap comes hard and fast.
The Illusion flares, covering the smell. Cheek against the carpet, I stare up at the king, only feet away. He tilts his head, cheeks flushed and hair tousled. His gaze cuts between the carpet and the chair, his grip on the cards tightening.
“Please,” I beg. “Please.”
“What’s that?” Maxian demands.
Dominik pauses, still pinning me down, my neck gushing blood and the world spinning. His pale chest heaves, clavicles poking out from his undone shirt, hands and mouth red. His thighs bracket my torso, as if he is about to offer himself to my mouth. His lip forms a tight, flat line, sweat rolling down his temples as his Illusion shimmers in the plane all around us, covering the entire room.
“What’s what, my king?” Lila asks, still turned from us.
“There’s something strange about the plane,” Eli observes, sitting up.
“Dom, are you seeing this?” Maxian asks the empty chair.
“Yes, quite strange,” Dominik answers—but it’s too late. He used the wrong voice, straight from his own mouth, from on top of me, and not the Illusion of us cuddling.
The king’s eyes cut to us on the carpet, and he squints.
I buck, throwing Dominik off center. The room flickers in and out.
“You’ll regret this,” he snaps, eyes wild.
“I regret everything,” I say. Then in a low and deep voice, I demand, “Maxian.”
The plane quakes.
“An Illusion,” Death says. “There’s an Illusion in the plane.”
King Maxian leaps to his feet, slapping down the cards.
“What did you do?” the king bellows, glasses rattling, lights winking. Dominik only coughs, a failed attempt at clearing his throat. Maxian tears across the room, reaching through the Illusion to grab him by the tunic and haul him up. “What did you do?”
Dominik drops the Illusion. The concentrated energy dissolves into the plane, like sugar in water.
A gasp, a thunder of footfalls. Someone grasps my good shoulder, and I cry out, blackness threatening once more. Eli crouches before me, surveying the damage.
“He bit muscle,” he says.
The king shoves Dominik up against the wall, the stone cracking. “What is wrong with you?”
The Illusion fae spits, the coughs worsening. “What is wrong withyou?”
“I said if you ever touched a lady like that again—”
“It’s just a faerie.” Dominik hacks up spittle. “Or are you getting confused? Don’t eat where you piss, Max—”
The king punches him in the stomach, and the fae drops to the ground and vomits.
