Page 84 of The Fox Heir

Her mouth draws into a thin line. “He’s betrayed his own people. With a Fox, no less.”

“He hasn’t betrayed you. He hasn’t betrayed anyone. He’s loyal to Annwyn.”

“And what would you know of loyalty?” Her words are cutting, bone deep. “You’re the one making promises to usurp the Fox Throne. The one who betrayed your Golden Boy. More than once, I hear.”

I steel my heart. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“So you said in the throne room.” She scoffs. “But how? Either you’re loyal to your country—to your people—or you’re not. Which is it?”

I throw my hands up in frustration. “Would you rather I sit back and watch while my father destroys what little is left of Annwyn?” I ask, my anger bubbling to the surface. “I’m trying to save your kingdom.”

“Save us?” Her eyes bulge. “You’re the reason we’re all in this damn mess. You and your power-hungry ancestors.”

“I am not my family!”

“And what would you know of family? Of the sacrifices someone makes for the people they love?” In her anger, her face grows red. Her long scar pales against the flush.

“I’ve made sacrifices too, Nalina.”

“Have you?” Nalina turns her body toward me, her voice low. “Have you walked your sister into the jaws of death? Did you watch her bleed so your people could be safe for just a little while longer? Until someone else had to make the same sacrifice all over again?”

I blink at her. “What are you talking about?”

“I know that you know about him.”

“Who?”

“The fae!”

My heart pounds in my chest as fear claws at my throat. Deep in my sternum, my power flares in warning, as if it’s afraid too.

Nalina’s hand clenches the hilt of her sword. “I followed you. Watched you go down into the dungeon, but you made it back out alive.”

“You know about him.” My voice sounds hollow to my ears.

She laughs humorlessly. “We all know about him.” She spits in disgust. “So many women have died because of him. That is what true loyalty and sacrifice look like.”

My ears hum as I try to put all the pieces together. “But why not kill him?”

She kicks at the gravel beneath our feet, scattering tiny chips of quartz. “Haven’t you wondered how the castle hasn’t toppled over yet? Or how the worst storms hover along the horizon?”

“Yes, but Tristan said it was ancient fae magic.”

“It is ancient fae magic.” Her voice is level. “Fae are territorial. After your father pushed us back to the brink of extinction, we had no choice but to trespass on this territory. This is his nest.”

I blink several times, trying to understand what she’s telling me.

Her expression grows tight. “He moved in after the castle was abandoned by humans. He wasn’t exactly keen to give it back.”

The fae in the dungeon, the disgusting creature who tortures blond women, is responsible for the ancient magic holding Gwyllion together.

“How can that be?” I ask. “The castle was abandoned centuries ago. If that’s true, the fae must be⁠—”

“He’s older than any of us could fathom.”

I shake my head. “That’s not possible.”

She purses her lips. “Not for humans.”