“The poison in your veins prevents you from slipping through my wards, shields, and boundaries,” Wymond said in a matter-of-fact tone as he walked toward us, unhurried, like a hunter that knew his pray was well and truly ensnared.
Artton closed his eyes for a long breath. Then, when he finally opened them, I wasn’t met with determination, I was bet with the resolution of a male who’d decided this was his last stand.
He turned to face our nightmare.
“No,” I cried, wincing when I grabbed his arm to stop him. “Artton, please.”
His gaze found mine as he looked down at me with a half-smile, the kind that made his dimple appear. Before I could react, he pulled me into his chest and pressed a kiss atop my head. I wrapped my arms tight around his torso.
“I’ll buy us some time for Endymion to get here,” he whispered.
My fingers fisted into the soft fabric of his shirt, and I knew there was nothing I could do as he stepped out of our embrace to face Wymond and Thaddeus, tucking me in behind him.
“I have to say, Artton, I’m impressed,” the High Lord said, observing his pray up close. “I’ve known you for centuries, and not once did I sense arcane magic from you.”
A collective gasp had me scanning the oval Great Room to find it had five feeder hallways; all entrances nowflooded with autumn soldiers. While that was shocking to see, it would forever pale to the stricken look on Sidrick’s face as he learned that—just like Endymion—the friend he considered a brother had kept it from him.
“Had I known,” Wymond continued, stopping about ten paces away, “I would’ve made sure you received the same poison as your preciousSpark.”
Artton’s fists bunched from the venom-laced nick name that’d been reserved for him alone.
“Say what you will about the humans,” he continued, nodding to the king, “they have the most clever minds. In fact, it was King Thaddeus’ idea to mix my blood—whereby a fraction of my magic—with the dose Nyleeria received so that she’d be rendered useless until I personally pulled the poison from her.” He clicked his tongue as he stared Artton down. “Lesson learned, I suppose. I’ll have to ensure all poison has the same failsafe moving forward in case anyone else is holding such delightful secrets.”
I bristled, instantly thinking about Endymion, and I prayed that he’d never endure being cut off from his source in such a cruel and controlling fashion. Then again, he had said he was immune. Had that meant against whatever I’d received? Did he even know? No, he couldn’t have; otherwise, he would’ve never inoculated me, knowing it wouldn’t work.
“Now, move aside,” the autumn lord ordered. “I’m in no mood to explain to Caius why I’ve returned his commander hanging on to life by a thread.”
“You can’t,” I blurted, stepping forward.
Artton hissed at me and put an arm out to push me back behind him.
A vicious smile darkened Wymond’s warm features. “My. My. Nyleeria. So protective. It appears your allegiances sway as often as a flag. I wonder, King Thaddeus, is your betrothed’s promise to marry as feckless as her sister’s allegiances?”
Her sister’s.
My… sister.
“Cassy,” I breathed, feeling ill as the world spun around me so fast I was forced to place a hand against Artton’s back to keep my balance.
He looked down at me, and it was the first time I’d ever seen pity from him.
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe as blackness crept in from the sides of my vision. What had Tarrin said? That time had moved differently in the human realm? My mind raced to formulate a timeline. A year. That’s what they’d said. A year had passed in the mere weeks it’d been in the Summer Court.
Cassy and Leighton had been returned to Thaddeus.
They’d been taken out of stasis.
They’d been under his influence.
And now, she was his betrothed.
I’d been stupid. So fucken stupid to pay them any mind. To feel guilty at the pain I’d caused. Of course she’d fallen for Thaddeus. Fuck, it really didn’t even matter if she had feelings for him or not. Cassy was an opportunist, at best—and to have a chance to elevate her status to queen…
Gods. Oh, gods.
“Breathe, Spark.” Artton’s calm voice pulled me back, and I’d never been so grateful to have an anchor as the last of my familial bonds were shattered—leaving me adrift.
From the corner of my eye, Wymond nodded to Thaddeus, and I realized too late that he’d intended the news as a distraction.
