“That’s not your fault,” she insisted.
But it was.
And there was nothing Taveon could do it to stop it, not so long as he was trapped inside this dungeon cell.
“How is Rafe?” he asked, hoping to change the subject. “And the council? What’s happening with them?”
“I’ll fill you in on all of that, but I need to ask you something important.” Through the bond, she let out a strange emotion. Tension and worry. Regret. But also determination. “Please don’t get angry at me for this.”
“All right…” he said slowly. “What is it, Bree?”
“Do you have any weaknesses?” she asked. “Is there something that can hurt you? Things that you’ve hidden so that no one would ever know?”
Taveon, admittedly, was taken aback by that. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
“The demons are coming. I need to know how to stop them.”
Ah. Of course. But his mind caught on the specifics of her words before he could answer. “You personally need to know how to stop them? Please don’t tell me you plan to face them on your own, Bree. You know you can’t do that. You need armies. Even then, it might not be enough.”
“Someone will have to take charge after I kill Lord Dagen.”
Taveon threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood. Alarm jolted his heart. “I think I must have misheard you, Bree. Because if you said what I think you said, then you’ve lost your damn mind.”
She bristled, the emotion travelling down the bond. Bree did not like it when anyone questioned her abilities. But how could she even think of doing something like that? It was suicide.
“It has to be done,” she said tightly.
“Bree,” he countered, closing his eyes. “Lord Dagen is a powerful figure. The dark fae have always trusted and respected him. He’s now rid the court of a demon king, and you think they’ll be pleased if you attempt a coup against him? Think about what you’re saying.”
But Taveon could feel Bree’s stubborn determination through the bond. She’d made up her mind, and there was nothing he could do to stop her. Not so long as he was stuck inside this damn cell.
“Does this mean you aren’t going to help me?” she asked.
He sighed. “Bree.”
“Is there a way to stop them?” Her voice grew insistent. “You can at least tell me that.”
Taveon paced the length of his cell, which wasn’t much. The cramped space was only big enough for a single bed and a bucket. There were bigger cells than this down in the dungeons, like the one where he’d once held Bree. But Dagen had made sure that Taveon had been dumped in the worst place possible.
Why had Taveon never seen the truth behind Lord Dagen’s eyes? He’d clearly been biding his time all along, just waiting for the right moment to steal the throne right from under Taveon’s nose. Deep down, he knew the only way to stop him was with a dagger to his throat, but he couldn’t bear the thought of Bree carrying that burden.
She’d been through enough. This world was not her own.
As if reading his mind—which she probably was—Bree sighed. “It is my home, Taveon. I’m still here, aren’t I? If I haven’t left by now, I’m never going to.”
Her voice rang with conviction, but he could still hear a hint of doubt. He could feel the yearning for New York, for humanity. For movies and sunshine, for buildings that stretched up to the stars. A part of her did miss that place. He wished he could give it back to her now.
“There is one thing,” he finally said with begrudging tension. It was a thing he’d never shared with anyone, not even Rafferty or Eurig, his oldest and closest friends. Taveon trusted them with his life, of course, but secrets were like sand. They easily slipped through fingers. He couldn’t risk the wrong person finding out.
Bree was not the wrong person. She was right in every way.
But if any of the dark fae at court found out…they would no doubt use it against him.
“We’re talking in our heads, Taveon,” she said softly, sensing his thoughts. “I won’t speak it aloud to anyone. It will be impossible for anyone else to ever find out.”
Taveon wasn’t convinced. Despite his efforts, the entire court now knew he was the spawn of a demon. He had no idea how Fillan had whittled that information out of the proverbial wood of knowledge, but he had. He could probably find this out, too, regardless of whether Taveon told Bree. Might as well let her in on it.
It wouldn’t help them, though.
