Heart hammering, I twist toward the door, dread curling in my gut—until I see him.
Zephyr stands in the doorway, framed by the dim light of the hallway, his eyes scanning the room with a sharp intensity. Relief floods me, slowing the frantic beat of my heart. My grip on the blanket loosens. But my relief is short-lived when I take him in. Trulyseehim—jaw tight, chest rising and falling with measured breaths.
“What is it?” Niko pushes off the bed, completely naked, with the evidence of our combined release still on him. Zephyr’s gaze roams over him before looking at me. I swear I see unbridled lust, but then he blinks, and it’s replaced with urgency. I push up to a sitting position, careful to keep myself covered, even though they both have seen me naked and in compromising positions. Modesty is hard to get over, I guess.
“All the patients who have eaten Evangeline’s dinner last night are showing signs of healing,” he says.
Niko’s shoulders sag, his muscles unclenching. He turns to me with a soft smile. “You’re incredible, Evangeline.”
His words hit me harder than I expected, sinking deep beneath my skin. A warm bloom of pride unfurls inmy chest, and I can’t stop the smile that stretches across my face in return. It’s… intoxicating. Almost surreal. SomethingImade—just a meal, a recipe born from love and instinct—actually helped people. Helpedhim.
Cooking has always been a part of me, a quiet language of love I’ve used to care for others. But this? Healing cursed fae with something I created from scratch? That feels likemagic. Like maybe I’m more powerful than I ever imagined. Perhaps The Guardian knew I was capable of this all along.
“Evangeline is incredible,” Zephyr agrees, but his words don’t fill me with a warm glow like Niko’s has. There’s something stiff in his tone. His posture is too rigid, and the air suddenly feels suffocating.
There’s something he’s not telling us. Niko seems to realize that at the same time I do and turns to face his mate. They lock eyes as a silent conversation passes between them. “What aren’t you telling us, Zephyr?” Niko asks.
I feel like I’m holding my breath, waiting for the next shoe to drop.
There’s pain in Zephyr’s eyes, like he doesn’t want to be the one to tell us, yet it is his burden to carry. He finally moves from his perch on the door into the room. I grip the blanket so tightly around me that my knuckles are white.
“What is it?” My voice is barely above a whisper, but Zephyr hears it.
When he speaks, he looks at me. “The guards reported that the last remaining crops have died. Ourlakes are empty of marine life.” He pauses before finally pushing the last few inches of the dagger into our hearts. “Our kingdom is on the brink of starvation, and more have fallen ill to the curse. The Nephilim are winning.”
Chapter 29
Niko
Thick tension lingers in the air, threatening to smother everyone in this private room. The sconces cast flickering light, illuminating the solemn face of my family and two guards. Evangeline trembles at my side, and I provide her the only comfort I can by pulling her closer to me. Zephyr stands opposite us, arms crossed and jaw clenched. He’s rigid—has been since he pulled Evangeline and me from our bed and brought us to the inner sanctum of the castle, a place where we can talk strategy and plans without interruption.
The inner sanctum hums around us, as if it too feels the fear and distress of the room. Soft violet light glows from the crystal veins in the stone walls, pulsing like a heartbeat. Silver vines curl across the ceiling, their leaves shimmering faintly with each breath I take. In the center, a massive table grown from living rootwood stretches wide, its surface etched with a glowing map of the kingdom.
We gather around the table. The room isn’t large, but everyone feels miles away, lost in their own dread. My mother looks up from the table, an unrecognizable tight-lipped frown on her normally cheerful face. Even Finnick, whom I count on to alleviate the tension of a room, paces around the table, eyes downcast.
More than anything, I wish I could rewind time. To be in bed with my new wife, watching as she comes undone on my cock, finding her own pleasure. Zephyr would be there too this time. But that’s no longer in the cards for us, and won’t be unless we turn the tides of this war.
“Someone explain to me what’s going on,” I demand, looking at the two guards seated on the opposite side of the table. I’ve seen them before—Ranorak and Estelle, I believe, a married couple who run different patrols.
Estelle speaks first, bowing her head in my direction. “The crops on both the north and south sides of the kingdom have rotted, my king. The soil reeks of sewage, unusable for future crops. We couldn’t save the food supply.”
“How is that possible?” Evangeline speaks up as every set of eyes in the room turns to her. Her cheeks redden, but otherwise she remains firm in her resolve.
“I don’t know, my queen. I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Estelle admits.
“Not only that, but the lakes have dried up. There are no fish to be found, not even a minnow,” Ranorak interjects.
Zephyr said as much, but I didn’t want to believehim. I still don’t want to, even as the evidence piles up. Because this means we are out of time, and I still have not come up with a solution to save my people. Evangeline was my plan, but with no food, we render her ability to heal useless.
“Can we ask Rip or Allarick’s people for food? Certainly they’ll be able to spare something. Allarick has a whole damn ocean. He could make the proper arrangements.” I can’t keep the ire out of my voice. As king, I need to stay calm in situations like this, and normally I do. But this is different. The fate of my kingdom hangs in a precarious balance—one wrong move and everything we have fought for will be for naught.
“That’s not possible either.” Finnick pauses his pacing to gaze at everyone in the room. “As soon as I heard about our crops and the fish, I flew over into King Rip’s territory?—”
“Alone? Son, you know that’s not safe,” my mother interrupts, her frown deepening.
To his credit, Finnick has the decency to look ashamed, his gaze flicking to the floor as the room bristles with unease. “I wasn’t thinking about that,” he mutters, voice tight. “I was thinking about food. I went to gather more berries to restock our supplies, but the moment I stepped across the border with them, they spoiled. Rotted right there in my hands, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.” He lifts his palms, fingers slightly curled, as if he can still feel the sticky decay clinging to his skin. The air thickens with silence, every breath in the room held tight with dread.
“We need to get our people out,” Mother says after a pregnant pause. The words hit my chest like a well-aimed dagger, hitting its mark perfectly.
