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The central councilor ignores both of them, staying focused on our girl. “Do you understand what your presence means to this Court?”

Fiadh’s voice is a dare. “Nothing good or I wouldn’t be sitting here in the dungeon, dude. I guess it means I’d be a better pawn for you dickwads to use if you’re planning some stupid insurrection.”

The wolf mask shakes their head and says, “Not a pawn in our schemes, Fiadh—a queen.”

The word lands like a bomb being dropped in the middle of the room. Tiernan sucks a breath through his teeth, and Revelin sags back, his eyes rolling to the ceiling as he sighs heavily. It doesn’t bother me either way, and it obviously doesn’t matter to the Mosquito—he’s not moved a millimeter. Fiadh, however, looks like she wants to climb into a hole and disappear to the center of the world.

Good to know she’s still allergic to titles and money despite our attempts to pamper her.

The wolf removes the mask with an audible click. The face beneath is ice-pale with lips lined in purple, and eyes like the sparkling sky at night. She pins Fiadh with a gaze that could freeze lava. “Your real mother was not just a noble in line for the throne. She was the last surviving daughter of the Winter King, called such because he was exiled for refusing a political marriage. He was in love with someone from the Reaping court, but they wanted to make peace with Harvest through a betrothal. When the war broke out after he refused, your mother’s people had to hide their bloodline as the armies of Harvest and Daybreak invaded.”

Revelin blinks, then snaps his fingers. “I know why you look so damned familiar! You’re Lady Morana. My father has had his personal guards after you for as long as I’ve been alive. You run half the blackmail operations north of the treaty divides. Rumor has it she prefers poison as her method of disposal, by the way.”

Fiadh laughs sarcastically. “Guess we found yet another villain on our tour of criminal activity in the Fae courts, Rev. We’re as unlucky as the fucking Scooby crew at this point.”

Morana’s mouth quirks as she tilts her head. “Unsurprising, lost heir. Your mother was found and killed, but she was able to help the previous royals quite a bit while in disguise. Once she fell pregnant, though, she knew that it would paint a bigger target on her back. She purposefully took you across the Veil to hide you with allies there, and came back. Alas, the trip alerted those who were aiming for the crown and she was killed not long afterward. But those who plotted to get rid of her have ties across Faerie, and on the other side—and have for many centuries.”

Dezi tilts his head, studying Morana. “Once they knew there was a missing heir, they started using assassins to hunt them down, yes? Ones that would not question who was hiring them or why they were being ordered to kill a random Fae child because they were summoned for that purpose.”

Morana nods. “Yes, they have been using demons, vampire. And they have come close to finding her many, many times; she has had more guardians and enchantments to mask her true powers than most Fae will ever see in their long lifespans. Those who have protected her have given their lives to keep her safe, have lived all over your world, and with every pass from one to the next, she has to be regressed to a baby to prevent anyone from tracking her.”

I blink, squinting at the woman incredulously. “How goddamn old is she, then?”

Sassy glares at me, but I know she’s hiding her fear and confusion under the mask of anger. “Worried I’ll turn to dust or something, Khol?”

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “Nope, but that ‘regress to a baby thing’ has me curious as fuck. You’d be hot even if you turn into the grandma from Titanic, Sassy.”

Huffing, she turns back to the councilor. “Alright, lay it on me. How ancient am I and do I get to lord it over Prince Fancypants and the bloodsucker?”

Morana chuckles. “You are easily as old as the Prince. The vampire pales in comparison, so yes, you can flaunt it. But regression comes with a price and that is why your magical abilities disappear each time. I assume that in this current iteration, no one has been able to teach you.”

I shoot a look at her, hoping our woman won’t tell them the truth. No matter what story they are spinning, I’m not trusting them until we have our own verifications done. “Everyone has believed she was a low-powered witch in Briarvale.”

That makes her blink in surprise, and she turns to her colleagues. “This is why we cannot let Harvest or Daybreak get their hands on her. They will easily overpower if she has no training or knowledge—especially if she is being led around by one of their heirs!”

Uh-oh… this is about to get very ugly, very quickly if Fi doesn’t take control of the conversation.

Nine

FIADH

“Look, lady. I’ve survived whatever the hell my Fae mom’s people have put me through—over and over, so thanks for that—and in this life, I’ve found people to support me. My sister, even if she’s not biologically that, has helped me through all the bullshit in Briarvale and never wavered from my side. When we ascended and the only big deal was her being a wolf, we stuck together despite the High Mage marking us as defective. I imagine previous lives weren’t a picnic, either. That’s how karma works when you’re fucking with the time continuum, right?”

Morana shrugs. “I don’t know what spells your mother and her allies have used, but it seems possible that your continued existence at the expense of guardians and other things likely has down-sides that affect you in every iteration. The universe always demands balance, and this perilous gambit would require a lot of restitution.”

Revelin blinks, his hand squeezing mine. “You have shitty luck and problems every time because you’re paying the debt for the spells that are keeping you from being found by the demons and assassins. No wonder you’re naturally stand-offish.”

I arch a brow at him, pressing my lips together. “Or it could be because who the hell knows how many people I’ve gotten killed over how long just to stay breathing until someone finally brought me here.”

Dezi snorts, shaking his head. “And you didn’t want to come—only his tour got you to agree to be here for any length of time, witchling. Very amusing.”

“I don’t find it amusing,” Khol mutters. “If the dickheads we saw on Samhain are working for warring factions over here, they have to be using a go-between on that side of the Veil. That means they’re contracting the demons through whoever is in courts here, passing it through the Veil to a middleman in Briarvale, and that person is hiring supernaturals of various stripes to hunt, track, harass, and stalk you. They probably had the same people terrorizing lots of kids until they landed on you in Briarvale, Sassy.”

My basilisk’s trying to tell me that the fuckers chasing me had a broad range of targets throughout my youth and they narrowed it down until they found me by killing our parents.

“Motherfucker,” I growl as I bang my fist on the table. “When I find out who that is, I’m going to gut them myself.”

Morana sighs as she taps her nails on the table. “I really thought you’d get there faster. This is interminable.”