“The succubus.”
He did not react.
“It takes over the minds of men while they sleep. It sinks into their consciousness, rendering their body into a monster. They feel no pain. They will stop at nothing to feed, to tear apart those around them.” The only sign that Arran was internalizing any of it was that infernal tick in his jaw. I wanted to scream. “Entire villages destroyed as husbands and fathers wake in the night, taken by the succubus, and feast on the flesh of their wives and children. Hundreds of them moving in packs, waves of darkness that overcome even the most skilled fae warriors, because they simplydo not stop.”
I could see the horror of it, playing across my mind with the clarity that could only be conjured by memory. The human village burning. The mass of succubus encircling us in the clearing above the faerie caves. The half-body of the fae male crawling across the forest floor.
For a second, I envied Arran the loss of those terrible memories. They still haunted me, waking and dreaming.
Arran uncrossed his arms, one hand fingering the head of his axe. “How do you kill them?”
I saw the calculation in his eyes, then. This was why he was such a successful battle commander. He did not allow himself to be overwhelmed by these horrors, which allowed him to make a plan. Ancestors, I’d missed him. I’d missed having a true partner.
I curled one hand around the hilt of a dagger to keep from reaching for him. “Flames will hold them back temporarily. Beheading seems to work. The surest way is with amoriteblades. Once one has been taken by the succubus, there is no redemption. There is only death.”
His face betrayed him, black gaze narrowing in disbelief I was certain he did not mean to show me. “Amorite is a gemstone, not a weapon.”
I held his gaze. “Until now.”
Without breaking eye contact, I drew one of the curved blades from my back. Arran did not flinch, but he tracked the movement. His eyes changed, so slightly that months ago, I would have missed it. But now I recognized the beast within him, straining for control.
Did his wolf see me as a threat? I would have thought that even if Arran could not remember me, that his beast would recognize me for who—and what—I was. But maybe even that had been taken from me.
I lifted my other hand, laying the blade across my palms so that he could examine it. “Gifted to me by my brother. The rapiers, my knives, and Excalibur.”
A step closer. He leaned in. I tilted my hand so that the blades caught the watered-down winter sunlight overhead, clearly illuminating the swirls of silver. It was beautiful, the sparkling amorite contrasting with the steel to create a pattern like curling smoke, unfurling along the delicately curved blade.
Arran examined it closely, but did not reach for it. Nor for me. When he stepped back, I slid the blade back into its sheath.
“Five blades. Against an enemy that comes in the darkness.”
I nodded. “The amorite is effective against them even in its gemstone form. Wearing it will prevent possession, though they can still tear you apart just fine.”
Arran’s fingertips lifted to trace the stud in his ear. I’d given him one of my own earrings after we found out the truth in the faerie caves. “You said men. This is a human plague.”
If only.
“It began in the human realm. Perhaps because they are weaker and more feeble-minded, they were easier to possess. But I’ve seen them take a fae male as well, in the forests outside of Avalon. Annwyn is not safe.”
The words were hardly out of my mouth when the Brutal Prince spoke, his voice clear and strong. “We must protect Annwyn.”
There he was—the male I’d fallen in love with. The one who had taught me not only that I was worthy of love, but that my kingdom was as well. The king Annwyn needed.
I searched his face, trying to find some sign that the male who had loved me lived inside of Arran still. The thick arch of his brows was just as it had always been. The muted sunlight deepened the shadow of stubble along his strong, square jaw. His dark hair would feel exactly the same curling around my fingertips, impossibly silky for a male who’d rightfully earned the title of Brutal Prince.
I felt my façade, the placid elemental mask I kept in place, beginning to slip.
I wanted to reach for him, to throw myself into his arms and let him comfort me. It had taken me so long to allow him in, to admit that I loved him, only for him to be ripped away. First physically, and now… I did not even know how to describe the agony of having my mate standing right in front of me, but feeling him lost.
My fault.
Every terrible thing that had happened came down to me. Arthur was murdered to put me on the throne. We were lured to Avalon so Gorlois could capture me. The succubus had returned to Annwyn because I had begun to open the rifts.
Maybe it was stupid and selfish. But I could not bring myself to tell him the part I’d played in it all. That my void power wasthe reason the succubus had come to Annwyn again after seven thousand years.
He would figure it out. He would have more questions. Arran Earthborn had not become the commander of the terrestrial armies by being stupid.
But he already looked at me with such conflict in his ominous black eyes, I could not give him one more reason to doubt me. The Arran who loved me would never have blamed me, would have helped me work through my guilt. But this Arran? I didn’t know, and I was too scared to find out.
