Lord Mote, a ginger-haired fae, nodded. “Of course we do. She vanished months ago, and you’ve been going on about it ever since. I assumed her being back was a good thing, but judging by the looks on both your faces…”
“Let the Queen speak, Lord Mote,” Liam, her Summer Court mate, drawled from where he slouched lazily in his chair, his brilliant red hair a flash of light in the otherwise grey, misty court. Norah had filled her mates in on everything, of course, before she’d called the meeting. None of them seemed particularly happy about the situation, but they also hadn’t argued against taking the troops through the Faerie Ring.
“The Queen can speak for herself, my love,” Norah said gently. “Now, yes. Obviously, I’m glad she’s back, but it seems she’s been in the dark fae realm all this time. And nothing stopped her from coming back through the Faerie Ring, which meant I didn’t permanently shut it after all. Luckily, there have been some positive developments with the dark fae. It seems the commitment to the Tithe died along with that monstrous king of theirs. The only problem is, we need to come up with an acceptable alternative for the new king to halt it. Otherwise, they die.”
“I say they just die,” Lord Mote grunted.
Norah narrowed her eyes. “We’re not going to kill off an entire race. Especially when they are our only allies against a force far more terrible.”
That smacked the smug smile right off Lord Mote’s face. Bree’s lips flickered. Norah really had grown more confident.
And that was when Bree noticed that everyone had turned to look at her. Norah’s brows arched. “I think it’s best if you explain what’s happened, since you’ve seen and heard it all.”
Bree braced herself, trying to ignore the weight of all those eyes on her. She sat up a little straighter and tried to find the right words. “There’s another realm. One beyond Underworld. I think, maybe, all those stories about the monstrous dark fae really came from that place instead of Underworld. The dark fae, well, they’re not always good, but they’re a lot like all of you. Some are good, some are bad. A mixed bag. Humans are, too.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“It’s the Realm of the Dead. They want to invade Underworld, and then they want to come here. I wouldn’t be surprised if they planned to go after the human realm after that. Basically, we’re all in a shitload of trouble if we don’t do something to stop them.”
“There’s awhat?” One of Norah’s female warriors shoved up from her chair, her hair a wild tangle of red around her shoulders. She was fiery and full of a passionate rage that flickered in a set of bonfire eyes. A summer fae then.
Kael ran a hand along his sharply cut jaw and leaned back in his chair. “It’s true. There are ancient books in our library here that speak about this, although I have long believed they were nothing more than stories.”
The warrior’s eyes cut her way. “You winter fae knew about this?”
“As I said, I assumed they were nothing more than stories. Regardless, it was ancient history. We’re talking centuries and centuries in the past. If there is a Realm of the Dead, they have not been a threat for a very long time.”
Lord Mote fisted his hands and leaned forward. “What is it you propose to do about this, my queen?”
Norah stood, palmed her hands against the table, and scanned the gathered fae. “We go fight by their side.”
2
TAVEON
Taveon was out of his mind with worry. As he paced the empty Great Hall, chandeliers flickering overhead with their dim flames, he tried to still his racing heart. The panic curled in his gut like a vicious thing, tugging the skin on his back, the hidden horns on his head. If he did not calm his fear, his body would revolt against him.
And if anyone saw the truth about his wings…
They would know exactly where he’d truly come from. The court would descend into madness. The lords and ladies who had been against his reign from the start would do their best to destroy him—they wouldn’t succeed, of course. He was indestructible.
But they could take his throne from him. And he shuddered to think who they’d choose to replace him.
And so he took deep breaths in through his flared nostrils, hissing it out through clenched teeth.
“Taveon?” Rafferty, his oldest and dearest friend, rushed into the room, his silver hair all askew, as if he’d just rolled out of bed. “What’s going on? Lord Dagen came to my room, acting like someone had taken a beating to his favorite bookshelf. He was asking about Bree.”
Concern lined his friend’s face. Rafferty loved Bree. Fiercely. Almost as fiercely as Taveon did.
Taveon’s hands fisted as he came to a stop in the center of the Great Hall. “She’s gone. No one can find her.”
All the blood drained out of Rafferty’s face. “What do you mean, she’sgone?”
“She’s not in her room. And as far as I can tell, she’s nowhere inside this castle.” He sagged, and his voice broke. “Someone took her, Rafe.”
Rafe shook his head. “No. They couldn’t have. For one, they never would have gotten her out without someone seeing. And two, well…this is Bree we’re talking about. She would have screamed bloody murder. She probably would have shifted and tried to fight back. There’d be blood on the floor somewhere.” He nodded to himself, as if he’d convinced them both of every word he said. “She must be somewhere you didn’t think to look. The tower? She likes it up there.”
“I looked there. It was one of the first places I checked.”
