“And in return?” Caius asked.
“Reciprocity,” I said simply.
He raised a brow and looked to Endymion, then back to me. “Reciprocity?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I need to know what’s in it for you by having the spark in your possession? What’s the benefit to Caius the High Lord, Endymion the Autumn Court’s second-in-command, and the Summer Court, to harboring me? And most importantly, what lengths you’d go to keep whatever advantage it is I give you.”
I started when Endymion’s hand slammed down on the stone top so hard a tiny fissure appeared as the abandoned breakfast plates and utensils rattled. Autumn’s cerulean gaze promised death as he stared down at me at full height, rage wafting off of him. The High Lord’s brows furrowed in confusion at the outburst as he glanced between the two of us.
“You are not some object to be owned.” Endymion enunciated each word in a tone lethal enough to summon Father Death himself, and I could have sworn something like fire flickered in his eyes.
I stood and placed my palms on the cracked table like I had with Artton, only this time there was no smirk as I held Autumn’s murderous gaze. “That, my dear Commander, has not been my experience since I’ve learned of the spark,” I sent back at him in an equally measured tone, despite the annoyance that’d been mycompanion since our last exchange was quickly becoming the kindling to my mounting anger.
Endymion snapped up to his full towering height, then ran a hand through his hair, which slid back into place, unbothered. I tracked each shift in his body as he took two sharp steps to his right, then back again, as if in silent conversation with himself. I stole a glance at Caius, whose features were creased with what looked like concern, before I focused on the now-still autumn fae.
“Why won’t you believe me when I say you’re safe here,” he said, arms wide, exasperation stealing his calm demeanor.
“You mean other than the poisoned arrow I took in this—your oh-so-safe court?” I spat, knowing full-well that wasn’t what he meant.
“Nyleeria.” The unhinged plea in his raised voice was an accelerant that turned my fury red-hot, its heat instantly incinerating my carefully curated plan.
“Because,” I yelled, now shaking from adrenaline. “He’s the one that slaughtered my parents.” They both flinched as if struck, and the sight made me want to land another blow. Grappling for a fragment of composure, I pinned Endymion’s gaze with mine. “That answers one of your questions, Commander,” I said, his title more curse than word. “As for the one you asked yesterday, we both know you weren’t inquiring as to how he brought me to within an inch of my life while trying to steal the spark. And given I’m certain you mined for more information in my dream than was necessary, I’m assuming the revelation of my parents’ deaths still doesn’t answer your question.”
Although it did nothing to ebb my anger, he had the good sense to give me an apologetic look before saying, “No, it doesn’t.”
It was my turn to rise to my full—if not inconsequential—height. “He spelled that pink diamond I wore to manipulate my emotions. Fucked me knowing he’d murdered my parents. And shared me with his commanders.” Not quite finished, Ilooked to Caius. “So, you’ll excuse me, your grace, if I don’t implicitly trust your second and third with my life—or any other part of me.”
“What do you meanshared,” Endymion growled.
I leaned in and lowered my voice. “You fucken know what I mean.”
Caius finally stood. “What am I missing here?”
Ignoring him, Endymion’s eyes darted between mine as if replying the nightmare. “They’re…” he started but seemed to struggle to explain it.
“Connected, through a life-link. Yes.”
“How is that even possible,” he asked, eyes going wide in disbelief.
“Because, Thaddeus is a fucken immortal wielder.”
Chapter 14
Sacred Star
Unbridled shock crossed their features a fraction before a sharp, ear-splitting crack of thunder shook the ground beneath our feet. I flinched, but the spark stirred as if called to the surface by Caius’.
Looking nonplussed by the slip of his magic, Caius clasped his elbows with his hands behind his back and stepped out of the palace’s cover into the early morning sun—clearly needing a moment.
Something about him needing a moment to find his composure snuffed my anger.
Stepping around the table, Endymion closed the distance between us. I tilted my chin to meet his gaze.
“He didn’t tell you, did he?” Endymion asked, his voice gruff but soft, and something in his eyes made me want to tell him the truth.
“Only about him being immortal,” I said, knowing he was asking after the twisted bond the three of them shared.
His eyes darkened as he held mine. “He dies,” his words a whispered promise.
