Thinking it was a bird or some other small creature, he paid it no attention.
Not until a man appeared by his side with no warning.
Before he could shift into another form, the man snapped a cuff on his wrist. “You’re not going anywhere, shifter.”
Shit!
“Who are you? What do you want?”
The older man had a grizzled face, filled with lines. Long, scraggly gray hair framed a face that might have been handsome at some point, but that would have been decades ago. With his sunken brown eyes and sharp features, he looked more like a walking corpse…
Diflyn ground his teeth as he realized that was exactly what he was dealing with.
A lich.
But they didn’t normally leave their own land in the far north. It was virtually unheard of to see them in the southern kingdoms.
“I want the contract.”
A contract he wasn’t about to part with, so Diflyn played dumb. “What contract? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The lich punched him hard. “The contract you transferred onto the skin of an elf. Did you really think they wouldn’t find out and seek vengeance?”
That was exactly what he thought. “I serve Queen Meara. You better let me go.”
The lich laughed in his face. “And I serve King Baldur.”
That made his stomach tighten to the point he feared he’d be sick.
“That’s right, shifter, shit your pants. My king has strict rules for those who trophy hunt his people.”
“I didn’t do it. I bought the skin from a peddler.”
“I know. I killed him right after he told me about you and your partner.”
Of course he did.
Terrified, he tried to think of anyone else he could blame this on. But his mind was blank. He could barely think at all.
“You’re going to die for this, shifter. The only question is how much will you suffer before you do?”
Three Days Later
Gisela stood beside Xaydin as they waited for King Mardyth to appear.
Evar and Marstyn were seated at a small table in the back, dreading the king’s appearance.
Tall and blond with gold eyes, Marstyn reminded her a lot of his father. Except he didn’t have a fish tail or translucent skin any longer.
Honestly, he looked completely human. No one would ever be able to tell that he was Ningyoan.
And at the moment, he was holding hands with Evar who was the heir to the Cosarian and Umaran thrones.
Mischief stood beside her, looking as nervous as her brother. “I don’t know what’s worse about this. Mardyth or our father. I love Evar too much to see him in this kind of pain.”
Xaydin glanced over his shoulder to where they sat. “He looks quite happy to me.”
“You say that. But this could cost him both thrones.”
