A shadow fae slithered out of the woods. She thought he was a shadow fae, at least. His long dark hair curtained a face full of menace and scorn. He wore shadowsteel armor stamped with the antler sigil, and his eyes were pools of black. His grin spread wide, revealing two rows of stained, crimson teeth.
Her heart jolted. The shadow fae had been drinking blood.
Just like Lorcan.
“You’re the High King’s whore,” the shadow fae hissed as he darted closer. He moved so fast that he was nothing more than a smudge of grey.
Still, she managed to track him. He cut through the trees and then darted toward her from behind. She whirled toward him, her dagger raised. Her breath fogged before her like frost. “Call me a whore again, and I’ll slice off your tongue.”
The shadow fae snickered, and his eyes glanced off to the side. Another crack sounded behind her. She didn’t have to turn to know there were two others entering the clearing, and both were in the same state as this shadow fae. Blood-crazed, angry. And maybe hungry.
Her mind whirled as she tensed her body for an attack. These shadow fae were drinking blood, too. Had the kingdom somehow found out about Lorcan’s new taste for it, and they were copying him? Falling in line? That seemed impossible. She’d not heard word of it herself. But what were the odds that others would have turned to darkness like this? The shadow fae had fought so hard to survive. For decades. And only a few had ever chosen to follow Unseelie to madness.
Why would they choose it now?
It made no sense at all. Nothing about any of this did.
It was that damn book. There was something in it.
“Your blood must taste so sweet,” the shadow fae said as he inched closer, his body like a coiled spring, poised to launch into the air. “If the High King likes you, then you must be grand. How does he drink it? From your neck? Or from your wrist?”
“The High King doesn’t drink my damn blood,” she snapped, gripping her dagger tighter. “Now, get the hell away from me. Go back to your little hidey hole, or wherever it is you came from. I don’t want to kill you, but I will if you don’t leave me in peace.”
It was true. She didn’t want to kill them, but they were likely too far gone to head her warning. Their pupils were so large that there was barely anything else to their eyes. They hunched over like wild animals, their long fingernails coated in dirt. How much blood had they drank to transform as quickly as this?
She didn’t have long to wonder at it. The shadow fae leapt toward her, his teeth bared. With a grunt, Reyna dodged to the side and hissed at Wingallock to take flight. She whirled behind the shadow fae as he caught his balance. Her arm whistled through the air as she plunged the dagger into the back of his neck. Bones crunched; blood splattered her face. The shadow fae’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. Nostrils flared, Reyna yanked the dagger out of his flesh and watched him crumple onto the leaf-strewn ground.
Slowly, she raised her eyes toward the two silent shadow fae watching her from the nebulous woods. A male and a female, both wearing plain linen clothes, like those worn inside of Findius. The grey garments were faded with holes rubbed through the knees. Reyna’s heart slammed against her ribcage. While the fae she’d just fought had been a warrior, these two were low fae. Citizens of Findius. The very people she’d fought so hard to save.
“Run. Get out of here.” She waved her dagger at them. “I don’t want to fight you.”
The two shadow fae blinked at her. And then they turned to each other and laughed. The female slithered forward. Her dark hair was shorn close to her scalp, and a constellation of freckles spread across her cheeks like stars. She glared up at Reyna with a piercing, inhuman smile. Reyna gripped her dagger tighter.
“Unfortunately,wewant to fightyou,” the fae said, her voice as rough as ancient parchment. A shiver went down Reyna’s spine. She’d heard a voice that sounded just like that. It had been imprinted into her mind.
Molt’s voice. He had always sounded as though his throat was made of crackling pages, like sand brushing up against ice.
“You’re not in your right mind,” Reyna said with narrowed eyes. “You’ve lost yourselves. Stop for a moment and think about what you’re doing. Try to see through the haze of the blood.”
But the shadow fae just laughed. “My eyes are wide open now. Yours are the ones that are shut.”
The two enemies lunged forward. Reyna spotted the dagger in the female’s hands just in time. She ducked out of the way a second before the dagger would have nicked her skin. With a shuddering breath, Reyna stalked sideways, tossing her own weapon from one hand to another, hoping her ease with the blade would put the fear of the gods into their hearts.
No such luck.
Their fear had been bled dry.
As if in unison, the two shadow fae rushed her at once. Reyna’s body moved with an impossible speed. She whirled toward the male, her dagger slicing through the air. The tip dragged across his throat, spraying blood. She ducked down as he fell, kicking out her leg to take on the other. The female’s back thudded against the ground, her breath hurtling from her parched lungs.
Reyna was on her in an instant, her dagger pressed hard against her bobbing throat. She peered down into the shadow fae’s eyes, anger and fear churning through her gut like a storm. “I told you not to attack me. I don’t want to hurt you. Now, will you calm down and let me help you?”
“Never.” The female spat into Reyna’s face. A bloody glob of saliva hit her square in the cheek just as the shadow fae lifted a second dagger in the air, one Reyna had not noticed until now.
Gritting her teeth, Reyna dug the blade into the shadow fae’s neck, her heart raging like a bonfire. She glanced away as the blood drenched the ground. Her throat ached; her entire soul felt split wide open and ripped to shreds. She hated this. All of it.
How had she fought so hard to save their lives only to be the one to end them?It was damn Ulaid Molt, she thought fiercely. He’d done something to the shadow fae. He’d caused some irreparable harm. Even in his death, he’d carried on. Was he watching them from the depths of Ifrinn, still weaving his dark magic over them all?
If he was, she’d track him down. She’d follow him down into the flames of Ifrinn if she must. He wouldn’t escape her, no matter where he went. Even if she had to kill him a second time, she would.
