CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Steam rose all around me. Of course I’d suspected, but the sudden change was confirmation; I wasn’t alone down here.

Nearly choking on panic, I frantically closed the distance between me and the rock. I clambered onto it, wishing it were bigger and higher. The sword made a clinking sound as it hit the hard surface. I froze and held it up, worried it had broken, but the colorful glass seemed intact. I found secure footing and straightened.

As I searched the black depths, straining to catch a glimpse of whatever was making it simmer like that, I realized I had a decent view of the faeries. Laurie stood beside Collith and even he looked shaken. Damon was buried in shadow, but Jassin stood in plain sight, an anticipatory smile curving his thin lips. What could excite an ancient faerie who’d seen everything?

Trembling like a child after a bad dream, I turned in circles, still trying to find whatever was coming. The sword in my hand felt like a toy. “Come on, come on, come on,” I muttered. It helped to speak out loud, for some reason. My breathing sounded too loud, too ragged.

Then it surfaced.

I caught a glimpse of yellow, reptilian eyes. They latched onto me and seemed to brighten. A snout appeared next, the nostrils flaring, covered in black scales. Terror turned the moisture in my mouth to chalk. With a huff that made the water lap against my rock, the giant head sank back into the darkness and disappeared.

“The Leviathan,” I whispered. A dragon from ancient times, first mentioned in the bible. My mother had made sure I knew all the stories, since she’d viewed them as our heritage.

How had the fae captured it? How long had it been down here, confined and hungry?

All at once, I knew what the first trial was. Kill or be killed. And if the Leviathan was still down here, it meant no one had managed to survive yet. How many skeletons rested at the bottom of this lake, abandoned and forgotten? Horror rushed up and clogged my throat. I fought against the feeling, wanting to maintain some semblance of dignity in front of the fae. But I knew there was no way to beat that thing. Here, down in this wet darkness, I was going to join my parents in whatever afterlife awaited.

“Look out!” someone shouted.

An instant later, the water exploded and there was burst of heat. I caught a glimpse of a long, serpent-like neck as I dove to the side—there wasn’t even time to scream. The water closed around me and I felt my bladder release. Not even a second passed before my eyes snapped open. There in the deep, I strained to catch any sign of movement. Everything was so dark. The rock was at my back, leaving my sides exposed. Though I’d need air soon, I was paralyzed with fear.

Open jaws rushed at me.

Bubbles streamed everywhere as I screamed. My survival instincts kicked in, though, and I shot for the surface. The dragon thundered past without touching me. I reached air, gasping, and didn’t waste any time getting back to the rock. All I wanted was to go for the ladder, return to safety, but I knew Collith would have to kill me if I did. With one hand, I clambered onto the rock again, barely managing to cling onto the now-slippery ridges.

I stood there, trying to see in every direction at once. There were no telltale ripples or waves, but that meant nothing. It could very well be just beneath the surface, watching me, gathering its strength to leap again. Somehow I was still holding the sword—small miracle I hadn’t dropped the thing—and I held it out in a feeble threat. The blade visibly trembled. In the temporary calm, my mind raced. I had to be smart about this. There was no way I’d get close enough to stab it. What were its weaknesses? Had Mom ever covered that during our studies of the bible?

Suddenly there came the sound of something shifting and moaning; the Leviathan was on the move. I jerked to attention, hardly daring to draw breath now. In the tense seconds that followed, the strange noise occurred again. I frowned. What the hell was that? It almost resembled … metal?

Then, in a burst of clarity, I recognized it. A chain.

So that’s how they kept it contained.

A frantic, sloppy idea took shape. If I led the dragon around the rock, again and again, eventually the chain would hold it in place … maybe just long enough for me to use Nuvian’s sword.

It was a weak plan, but it was better than nothing.

It did mean going back into the water, though, and the thought made a whimper lodge at the back of my throat. I swallowed it and squared my shoulders. For a second, just a second, I let myself glance toward the watching crowd. Damon still wasn’t visible, but I felt him there. I saw that hospital room and his small hand clutched in mine. I heard that earnest promise. From now on, I’ll be a better sister. I’ll take care of you. Promise.

“Okay, here I am. Come get me,” I breathed, slowly lowering myself, then sitting. I gripped the slick ridges of the rock and slid down. The water had become uncomfortably hot. Once it reached my waist, I decided that was far enough—even this small movement sent ripples across the surface. Once again, I held the sword out. Maybe the Leviathan would do me a favor and throw itself onto the blade.

I’d expected the creature to launch itself at me instantly, but it still didn’t make an appearance. I tried not to let myself succumb to the creeping sense of hysteria. Just wait. It’ll come. Watch the water. I’d seen enough horror movies in my life to prioritize looking behind me, as well.

The seconds ticked past. Each one felt like an eon. It took all my self-control not to scramble out of the water; I felt the same sense of dread as a child in a lake, picturing a creature coming up from below to bite my foot off. I’d never been able to hear my heart to this extent—it was like a song playing from the radio, the bass knob cranked all the way up. I became intimately acquainted with every pulse, every thump. It beat so hard I wondered how my chest wasn’t fracturing from the pressure. Thud. Thud. Thud.

The Leviathan came from the right.

I saw it from the corner of my eye. As the monster rocketed toward me, its eyes glowing yellow, I thought I was ready. But either it moved even faster than before or I was too slow. Something raked my side and I cried out from the pain of it. I’d tried to throw myself out of range and around the rock as planned. Instead, the force of the dragon’s blow sent me into the water again. My scream was cut short and it turned into a wet gurgle. This time, I lost my grip on the sword. Darkness and bubbles filled my vision. A hint of red clouded the depths all around. Blood. I didn’t care, though; I was already searching for the Leviathan. I spun and spun, ignoring the agony each movement caused. Where was it? Oh, God, what if it was already coming back? The sword was utterly gone now. There was no way I’d find it.

Get out of the water, instinct screamed. I had just enough reason left to heed it. Fire licked up and down my ribcage as I hurried back to the rock and scrabbled around its perimeter, intending to take a new position and continue on with the plan, regardless of whether I had a weapon or not. If the faeries were making any noise, I was deaf to it now.

I was so focused on not slipping, so busy flinching at every shadow that I almost missed it—a sensation in my mouth that didn’t belong. I froze as I absorbed it. Not the coppery tang of blood or the bitterness of tears. It was impossible to describe but still distinctive.

Was that … a flavor?

Holy shit.

I was so desperate that I didn’t question it. Water streamed down my face while I searched for the Leviathan, this time with my mind. No fucking way. There it was. A source of warmth, a spot of light. I must not have truly believed I’d succeed, because for an instant, I did nothing. Maybe I’d imagined it. No, it was still there. The sensation was fainter than normal, which was surprising for a creature so gigantic, but apparently it was still enough.

The Leviathan had fears.

Urgency made me clumsy in using my abilities. I hadn’t been this sloppy in digging through a mind since I was a child. The dragon felt the invasion; the entire cavern rumbled. Someone shrieked. I clutched onto the rock so hard that lightning bolts of pain shot through my fingers. Somehow, though, I focused. The images I found were disjointed and random. I struggled to make sense of them, knowing the clock was working against me.

The Leviathan was coming this way again. This time, it created a stir in the water.

In the odd structure of its mind I saw dripping walls, stalactites, and a rusted chain. Just like that, I understood—this creature was already experiencing its worst fear. It lived the nightmare at every moment. Above all else, it loathed being trapped down here.

Pity swelled in me.

Stop that. This thing was just trying to eat you, I reminded myself. Even so, when I went to test the full effect of my abilities on it, I thought of a spring breeze instead of the cruel illusions I normally used. I couldn’t tell if it was working, but the dragon hadn’t emerged from the depths or dragged me down to a watery grave. Hopeful now, I added trees and a blue sky.

A burst of hot air stirred my hair.

I stopped breathing. It took every bit of self-control I’d built up over the years to maintain hold of the illusion. It wavered for a moment, then solidified again. I didn’t dare turn, but I could sense the Leviathan there, in the water next to me. I’d been so focused on our mental connection that I hadn’t seen it surface. With herculean effort, I swallowed the scream ricocheting up my throat. Seconds ticked by and nothing happened. I was afraid to even blink; there was an irrational idea in my head that if I stayed very, very still, the dragon wouldn’t hurt me.

Waiting became agony. I knew it was still there, because every time it exhaled through its nostrils, the breath surrounded me. Like I was inside of a preheating oven. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer. My heart hammered as I slowly turned.

The dragon floated beside the rock, so close I could reach out and touch it. It didn’t move. Didn’t open its eyes. A semblance of reason ebbed back. Experimentally, I inserted rolling hills to the illusion between us. The Leviathan immediately made a humming sound, almost like a cat’s purr. Animals didn’t respond to my power—their mind was either too simple or the machinations of a Nightmare too complex—which meant that this creature had a consciousness closer to that of a human.

And I was supposed to kill it.

There was no time to wrestle with my conscience; the rules of the trial hadn’t changed. If I tried to walk away, I was dead. If I failed, Damon would remain in Jassin’s grasp. It was either the Leviathan or us. Forgive me, I thought, uncertain who I was talking to.

Willing myself to feel nothing, I closed my eyes and delved into its mind even deeper. It didn’t struggle. The dragon was firmly in my grasp now; it would do whatever I bid. For a wild moment, I thought about sending a burst of fire in the direction of those gawking faeries, thinking themselves so safe on that ledge. I could almost hear the music of their agonized shouts. But Damon stood among them. He would burn, too.

So I sent it careening against the wall.

The Leviathan saw freedom. A sudden opening to the world it had once known, made entirely of blinding daylight and distant mountains. It didn’t even question it; the beast rammed into the unforgiving surface again and again. It screamed the entire time, a sound that was desperation, fury, and pain combined. Blood stained the rocks. Cracks formed. The whole thing seemed to go on forever, but I didn’t relent, no matter how much I wanted to.

Tears streamed down my face as the great beast finally slumped. The front of its skull had caved in. Its snout was a destroyed mass of flesh. It slid into the water, leaving a scarlet trail down the wall. Wafts of steam was all it left behind.

A creature of myth and legend reduced to nothing.

Collith’s words sounded in my head like a cruel taunt. Even if you win, you don’t win.

Stillness reigned in the cavern. I lifted my wet face and turned toward the ledge. The fae stood in shocked silence. You made me do this, I thought dully, looking at them beneath lids that suddenly felt so, so heavy. The adrenaline had seeped from my veins, leaving sorrow and exhaustion in its wake. I barely had the energy to climb down the rock, sink into the water, and swim back to the stone ladder. It crossed my mind that I should try to retrieve the sword—it might be valuable or have significance to Nuvian—but the thought died before it truly began.

When I reached the top of the ladder, there were no cheers or congratulations. Collith probably sensed my mood through the bond; he placed a blanket around my shoulders but didn’t try to touch me or speak. Don’t you dare collapse, I ordered myself. Without any pomp or ceremony, Collith and I ducked back through the hole and left the gaping faeries behind. If the guards followed us, if Damon spoke, if Laurie tried to signal to me, I was oblivious to it all.

This time I paid no attention to the passages; it was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other. Collith didn’t offer assistance, but I knew that if I so much as wobbled, he’d be there. Strange that the one I trusted least was now the one I could depend on most.

Minutes or hours later—both felt entirely plausible—a familiar door appeared on our left. A guard stood in front of it, and at the sight of us, he moved aside. His sword flashed. It was almost identical to the one lying at the bottom of the lake.

A cool hand cupped my elbow and steered me into the room. I was so tired, so ready to get away from the fae that once again I offered no resistance. I was distantly aware of the door closing gently behind me. I shuffled forward. In my mind’s eye I saw that streak of blood on the rocks again and again. My grip on the blanket tightened. I started toward the bed, an automatic movement.

“I need to see your injuries.”

I looked up at Collith, who’d somehow gotten in the way without my noticing. His cautious tone made it clear that he expected refusal, but my only response was to drop the blanket. A chill raced over my skin, which was a strange sensation for me. Without pausing, I pulled off the sopping tanktop. It dangled from my fingers, heavy and dripping. I stood there, utterly topless, unable to care. Collith didn’t seem to care, either. He knelt beside me and scrutinized the wounds closely.

“These aren’t from its claws,” he commented. His breath warmed my skin, which was indicative of just how cold I was. “It must’ve scraped you with its scales in passing. You were fortunate.”

My voice was flat. “That’s an interesting word for it.”

Collith sighed, flattened his palms against his thighs, and stood. He moved to the chest of drawers. Wood slid on wood. When he came back, there was a billowy white shirt in his hands. He gazed at me for a moment and seemed to arrive at some kind of decision. Briskly, he put the shirt over my head and helped me get my arms through the sleeves. “I don’t suppose you’d let me summon Zara?” he asked.

“You suppose right. She already helped me once. I don’t need to add to my tab.”

“Not all faeries think like that, Fortuna,” Collith countered. He appraised me as the shirt settled into place. It smelled so much like him that he may as well have been embracing me. “Would you like to take a bath?”

No. I wanted to go home. But the words stuck in my throat. “I wasn’t prepared,” I said instead.

Collith’s brow creased. He didn’t ask me what I meant. He didn’t tell me that it would’ve been impossible to prepare for what happened. “What do you need?” was all he said.

I cast my gaze toward the room of books. “To understand. To have knowledge. To be one step ahead. Do any of those contain information on your kind?”

The Unseelie King didn’t hesitate. “Yes, they do. Please, have a seat. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

He pulled out an antique-looking chair, its legs and edges made of wood, the cushions worn and patterned. I didn’t try to hide my relief as I sank down. Collith vanished into the other room. I turned my head to stare at the fire, as something about its noises and movements was so soothing. I gradually became aware of a dampness around my legs, though. When I looked down, I noticed the bottom of my borrowed shirt was already wet. Suddenly I realized I was still wearing the pants.

“Oh,” I said tonelessly, beginning to rise. “I’m sorry. Your chair …”

Collith returned with two books in hand. He knelt before me, setting the books on the ground. “I don’t care about that. We do need to get those off you, however. May I?”

My old self stirred. “I can do it. But … thank you.”

Mom’s scholarly voice sounded like a trumpet. Fortuna, could you pay attention, please? This is very important. I know it may not seem like it right now, but this could come in handy later, okay? Now, lore says to avoid expressing gratitude toward a faerie. They’ll take advantage of it and claim you owe them a service or a debt. So don’t ever say ‘thank you’ to one. Ever.

But Collith said nothing in response to my blunder. He just nodded and left me to it, going to the desk on the other side of the room. I sat frozen for a few seconds, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Collith merely sat down and pulled out a sheaf of papers from the top drawer.

After another moment, I got up to peel the pants off. It took longer than usual because they’d become a second skin. Just as I started to wonder where to put them, Collith returned. He took the pants and nodded at the chair, a silent order. I sat more from curiosity than compliance. Collith retrieved the thick, fur blanket from the bed, tucked it around my bare legs, and handed me one of the leather volumes he’d fetched. Then, still not uttering a word, he went back to the desk and resumed his work. The only sound in the room was the scratching of his pen and the sporadic crackle of the flames.

I gave a mental shrug and opened the book. Its spine creaked.

Thankfully, Collith had selected one written in English. Even so, it was difficult to interpret the slapdash handwriting. He’d brought me a history book. The volume was insanely thick, rivaling the textbooks they’d given us in World History I and II. The content made me think of the bible, ironically enough. It was story after story of infamous faeries or deeds, events or choices. Over half of the pages depicted the dark, complex history between the two courts. Apparently they’d begun as one, here beneath the ground, and the division occurred when technology began to enter the world. Some faeries believed it was time to integrate amongst them while others clung to old ways and ideologies. The dissension was made permanent when certain events transpired … events that immediately brought Romeo and Juliet to mind. Perhaps Shakespeare hadn’t been entirely honest in the inspiration for his famous play.

A paper rustled in the stillness, and I looked toward Collith. His profile, or what I could see of it, was sharp angles and weary responsibility. He wanted to change things, he’d said. Maybe he was going about it much slower than I would’ve, but what did I know about ruling? About the fae?

Well, I was about to know more.

I forced myself to focus on the tome in my lap. If Dad could see me now, he’d probably be convinced I was bespelled or another creature was wearing my face. The thought made me smile faintly. Since I wanted to get through as much as possible, I didn’t allow myself to linger on the drawings I encountered, however fascinating they were. Soon I was putting the book aside and reaching for the next one. This was a volume entirely about the war tactics a fae general used in their first civil war. While I highly doubted I would ever find myself on a field facing a magical army, I scanned the information anyway.

As I read, Collith continued adding books to the stack. At one point, he also thought to bring me a notebook and pen. He moved so soundlessly that, as usual, I hardly noticed his comings and goings. Every time I lifted my head, there he was at the desk, a picture of the dutiful king.

As the hours ticked past, a total of six books were added to the finished pile. The pages of the notebook filled with my own handwriting. All the while, the edges of sleep drew nearer. At last, when the fire burned low, I sat back and rubbed my eyes. Just a short break, I thought, still clutching the pen.

I must’ve nodded off, though, because the next thing I knew Collith was lifting me into his arms. It felt like part of a dream. I’d been back at the pool, reliving that fear I’d tasted after touching the Leviathan. I said something to Collith—or at least I thought I did—as he lowered me onto the bed. His lips brushed my forehead. “You’re safe here,” I heard him say. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not again.”

I wasn’t certain whether he was really saying those things, and my mouth wasn’t working anyway, so I didn’t reply. The bed was so soft, so warm. It wasn’t until I was lying there, my mind utterly open, that I was finally able to place the clean, almost tasteless flavor I’d experienced from the Leviathan.

Wind. Open sky. Air high above. Sorrow curled around my heart as sleep claimed me.

It was snowing when I arrived at the dreamscape. I felt a snowflake first, a small spot of ice on my cheek, and opened my eyes. The sky was a mass of gray clouds. The moon was there, but it struggled to shine through. The only true source of light came from the house, its windows aglow. Oliver stood in the doorway, hands shoved in his jeans pockets. He wore a wool sweater and his hair was a bit longer than last time. A fire flickered in the room behind him.

Doubtless he would want to know what happened in the time we’d been apart. My stomach clenched at the thought of reliving the trial. But I’d decided not to keep things from him anymore, hadn’t I? I started forward, trying to steel myself to say the truth aloud. I killed a creature that was in the same circumstances as me. Trapped. Angry. Alone. It wasn’t a clean death. If it weren’t for you and these dreamscapes, I’d probably have nightmares about it for months.

Halfway to the house, I saw something move in the distance. It was so out of place that I looked toward it immediately. My heart stumbled at the sight of the Leviathan and I jerked to a halt, staring and open-mouthed.

Its flying made me think of a child that had been cooped up inside too long—wild and joyous. The creature’s wings, much like a bat’s in their transparency, caught the faded moonlight.

It didn’t come near me, seeming to prefer flying over the open sea, but the Leviathan was big enough that it was possible to make out details even so far away. I hadn’t been able to notice much in the darkness, not to mention the fact I’d been fighting for my life, but now I could see that its scales weren’t entirely black. Like a bolt of velvet, they had hints of green that glinted with every tilt and dip. Beautiful.

“Rest in peace,” I whispered, my guilt abating somewhat. At least one of us was free.

With an echoing roar, the dragon soared into the churning horizon and vanished.

This time, when I awoke, I knew exactly where I was.

The dull, throbbing pain in my side was gone. I lifted the covers to investigate, part of me already suspecting what I’d find. Yes—the gouges had healed to the point where they were covered in scabs. Still tender, still noticeable with every movement, but I would be able to face the next trial without any difficulty.

I lowered the blanket and swore at Zara, who was walking toward the door. She must’ve just finished. The faerie turned at the sound of my voice, and at that moment, she was standing directly adjacent to the fire. The last time I’d seen her, we’d been in a dark cell. The light revealed more details of her face. There were slight indentations in her cheeks that might have been dimples, if she were to ever smile. Her eyebrows were thick. Her lips were perfect and pink.

Beautiful, of course, like all the rest.

“You’re welcome,” Zara said dryly. She pointed at something to my left. “His Majesty wanted to make sure you read that.”

“Let’s be clear. I don’t owe you a thing,” I told her, ignoring this. Guilt churned in my stomach—I knew I was being a bitch —but I reminded myself that she was a faerie. I sat up and moved my bare legs to the side. Cold air reached for them greedily. “I didn’t ask you to heal me.”

Zara didn’t acknowledge she’d heard. She walked to the door, opened it, and slipped into the dark passageway beyond. There were guards immediately outside, I saw, but no one spoke as Zara moved past.

Once the door was closed, my gaze fell upon the side table. Instead of food, there was a note waiting on its surface. I picked it up. Collith’s handwriting was neat and elegant. Olorel continues. My presence is required.

Well, he certainly didn’t mince words.

I left the note on the bed and moved to get dressed. The backpack was in its usual spot. I stood over it, strangely reluctant to take off Collith’s large shirt. A thoughtful frown pulled at the corners of my mouth as I forced myself to do exactly that. Then I pulled on the only clothes I’d packed—the jeans and plaid shirt I’d been wearing when Laurie arrived with that obscene wedding dress.

There was no way of knowing whether it was night or day aboveground, but I suspected the latter, because my powers were muted. Which meant I couldn’t defend myself with them. However much I longed to seek out Damon, it was hard to forget just how badly I’d lost to Jassin in our last encounter. Which made my plan simple—knowledge first, action later.

I sat in the chair I’d been in last night. The fur blanket was neatly folded and draped over its back; it tickled my neck as I got comfortable. Collith must’ve fetched some books while I was sleeping, because a new stack was waiting for me. I lifted the top one and opened it. The spine let out a brittle sigh.

As with the rest of Collith’s collection, the pages were yellowed with age. The words upon them were still faded, but actually typed this time, making it much easier to read. A quick glance revealed that this volume would be about magic. Finally, I thought. From the moment I’d met Collith, it had been painfully clear that I needed to know what the fae were capable of. Going off myths and lore had already cost me. So I started at the beginning and resolved to read every word.

Time felt like a dying creature, dragging itself torn and bleeding over the ground. Though there was no clock on the walls, I swore I could hear one of the hands ticking. The fire—who the hell kept tending to it?—crackled with a merriness that I found grating instead of soothing. I shifted restlessly. My attention kept wandering, unable to focus on the book. Again and again, I glanced at that piece of paper on the table.

The smartest course of action to take would be to stay right here, learn about the fae, and prepare for the next trial. Yes, that was the smartest course … but it wasn’t what I wanted to do. No, my mind was in the throne room, where Collith was. I wanted to see him interact with his subjects. I wanted to watch him without him knowing I was watching. My mate was an enigma who was cold one moment and kind the next.

No, Fortuna. Be smart. Damon and survival first. How many times had I sat through movies where the main character acted like an imbecile? This is what I would’ve done, I said to Damon every time. Without fail, I would proceed to list all the ways I would have acted differently and actually survived.

Well, I wasn’t about to be one of those girls now.

Determined, I gripped the edge of the book. I scooted lower in the chair and made a valiant effort to immerse myself in the book again. But that invisible clock didn’t stop. Tick. Tick. Tick.

In the end, curiosity got the better of me.

Moving in a burst of frustration, I abandoned the book and the chair. I started toward the door before remembering that, at the moment, I was virtually defenseless. There was still no sign of my father’s knife, so I turned in a circle, searching for something else that could be a weapon. Once again, my eye fell upon the shattered mirror. Perfect.

I fetched one of the broken shards, wrapped most of it in a sock, and tucked it into the waistband of my pants. Once I was ready, though, I just stood there with my palm against the door. Come on. Open it. But I couldn’t seem to push. It was self-preservation, I told myself. Not cowardice. I was that girl in the movie, about to do something completely asinine that would doubtless get me killed. She’d deserved it, the audience would say. This is what I would have done differently …

Right on cue, obstinance streaked through me, stronger than any bolt of electricity. The heat of it made me shove the door harder than I meant to. It slammed against the dirt wall and bounced back, closing in my face. My cheeks burned as I opened it again, a little more gently this time. The guards didn’t so much as turn their heads. But the female’s mouth—she was one I’d never seen before, with cropped red hair—curved slightly upwards.

“Thank you, I’ll be here all week,” I muttered, hurrying past.

They waited until there was a bit of distance between us before following; I could hear their leather armor creaking with every step. It took me exactly four steps to realize that I had no idea how to get to the throne room on my own. Normally that wouldn’t stop me from blundering around, hoping for a clue or a streak of luck, but Jassin, Death Bringer, and the Leviathan were proof that monsters lived in these dark passages. I slowed, then stopped completely. I angled my body toward the two faeries, mulling over the best way to ask for assistance.

“Ach, jist spit it oot,” the female said with a roll of her eyes. Her accent was thick but the words were swift. She was Scottish or Irish.

They both stood there and stared at me. Impatience emanated from the hard lines of their bodies. Despite this, I didn’t rush to speak. I phrased the statement carefully. “Okay … I don’t know the way to the throne room.”

“An’?” The female raised her brows and waited. She wanted me to ask for help. I knew better.

“The way I see it, you have two choices,” I said, thinking quickly. The torch beside us quivered. It made the shadows on their smooth, pale faces look like living things. “You can follow me around all night—I’m betting you’d miss the shift change and be forced to stay on guard duty much longer than you should’ve—or you can lead the way. Which will it be?”

It was my turn to wait for a reply. In the silence that followed, I considered using my potential queenship as leverage, but the last thing I needed was another faerie who didn’t want me surviving the trials. It was honestly surprising that there hadn’t been any assassination attempts. Then again, no one probably thought I would pull it off.

The female was contemplating whether or not to do it; I could see it in the tilt of her head and the twist in her lips. “Úna,” the male said beneath his breath. A warning.

“What’s de ’arm?” she asked him, shrugging broad shoulders. “Loike she said, oi’m not prepared ter wander raun al’ noight. An’ if she gets killed, den she won’t say anythin’, ’ill she?”

The other guard’s nostrils flared. “Who do you think will be blamed if she dies? Or what if His Majesty is displeased that we brought her?”

“He invited me to join him,” I interjected. They both fixes dark gazes on me again. The trick to a good lie was to forget that it was, in fact, a lie. I put it in my mind that the scribbled message Collith had written contained longing and warmth. “If you don’t believe me, read the note. He left it on the table next to our bed.”

Our bed. I knew those were the words they heard most clearly. Neither of them spoke again. After another moment, thick with tension, Úna walked ahead of me and the male fell into step behind. I could practically feel the disapproval rolling off him—he really didn’t want to help me—but the guard didn’t say anything more as we made our way to the throne room.

“How is it that so many of the fae I’ve met come from different backgrounds?” I asked. “Since you all live here, away from human society?”

It was a question that had been hovering in my mind since meeting Zara. Surprisingly, the male answered me. “Most of us are Nephilim,” he said shortly.

Dad’s lessons had been thorough; I didn’t need to ask what a Nephilim was. Half-breeds. Creatures with one human parent. Any caste of Fallen—faeries, goblins, shapeshifters, werewolves—had difficulty reproducing offspring. Though there had to be a scientist or two among our midst, it seemed that no one knew the reasoning behind our infertility. Throw in some human genes, however, and the odds improved. So it wasn’t strange that there would be Nephilim at the Unseelie Court, really. I should’ve figured it out sooner.

It was as though Úna wanted to get away from my words; the pace she set was grueling. I didn’t have a chance to ask any more questions, as I was too busy trying to catch my breath. We reached the mural room much sooner than I had with Laurie. The male hung back at the mouth of the passageway, clearly not wanting to be spotted. I barely noticed; my focus was on that doorway at the far end. From here, I couldn’t see a single faerie, though the doors were wide open. The air was so quiet and still. Was something wrong?

I took one step toward the doors before Úna seized my arm in a biting grip. “Mind dis. Mind dat oi ’elped yer,” she whispered in my ear, her breath hot. I turned slightly to look at her, and I saw a light in her eyes that I’d seen in so many before. Want. Desire. Lust. These faeries were so accustomed to beauty, and their reactions to me so muted, I was already forgetting the effect a Nightmare had on most creatures. Up until now, this one had hidden it well.

I pulled away from her. There were angry marks on my skin where she’d touched me. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll remember,” I said coolly. Her hand formed into a fist and she watched me go with obvious reluctance. Be wary of that one, instinct whispered.

Wondering what he thought of his companion’s comment, I glanced behind me, toward where the other guard should’ve been standing. He hadn’t seen our brief exchange; he was already gone, hurrying back to his post, no doubt. Had Collith assigned them to protect me or his precious chambers? The latter, it seemed. I tried to ignore the odd sting this realization caused. The blood-filled mural loomed overhead as I finished crossing the room. I hesitated just outside the doorway. Then, erring on the side of caution, I peered around the corner rather than striding right in.

The scene was like something from a Shakespearean play.

I knew my eyes were huge as I stepped fully into view. The very air felt bloated with fae, like a tick swollen with blood. They covered the flagstones, the tables, the benches, the dais. Most were in various states of undress, their finery torn or discarded. Some were outright naked. Bare skin gleamed in the firelight.

And every single one of them was unconscious.

Even Collith.

I stared in his direction, my heart picking up speed. Had something happened? Was this some sort of sabotage or spell gone wrong? The distance between us made it difficult to see much of his features, but from how he was slumped and still, it was obvious he comatose like all the rest. Despite this, he was still apart. Other. Different. He sat on that twisted throne, the highest one in the room. Slowly, I started making my way toward him.

With every step, I took in the spectacle around me.

It was a sensation similar to being at the zoo, disconcertingly close to an animal that could easily kill you, and all that offered protection was a single sheet of glass. I stepped over faerie after faerie, half-expecting one of them to lurch awake, but my luck held. Chests rose and fell with the breathing of deep sleep. Not dead, then; they’d literally drunk themselves to sleep. I breathed a little easier. There were puddles everywhere, some dark-colored and others light. I didn’t look any closer to figure out what they were. Food and bones also littered the flagstones.

After what felt like hours, I ascended the stairs—the soft sounds my shoes made were piercing—and stopped directly in front of the Unseelie King. Our toes nearly touched. I searched the area behind the chair, expecting to see stoic faces looking back at me. Where were his guards?

Collith’s only protection seemed to be a faerie sleeping face-down nearby. The male’s bottom half was draped down the stairs. His hand rested on a plate of food, as though he’d been reaching for one more chicken leg before succumbing to oblivion. Next to him was a bird-boned female, also asleep, wearing a brilliant gown of gold. One of the sleeves was covered in blood.

I quickly returned my gaze to Collith. He slept so deeply that the bond between us was dark. It occurred to me, suddenly, that this was an opportunity. The shard of mirror burned in its hiding place against my hip. It would be so easy. So quick. No one would be the wiser, either; who’d suspect the Nightmare that had been found asleep after the murder, anyway? Killing Collith would send a shockwave through the court and Damon and I could make our escape during the chaos. It would also take care of the pesky mating bond, in the process.

Hell, I could kill all of them, while I was at it. It would probably save hundreds—if not thousands—of human lives. No one would mourn the Unseelie Court.

Never in my life had I thought so casually about ending another creature’s life, and here I was, contemplating the benefits and consequences of eliminating every single one in this room. Was it the influence of living amongst fae? Or just what survival had forced me to become? Perturbed, I refocused on Collith, wishing I could ask him.

It struck me, then, that I’d never truly been able to stare at my mate. Knowing this chance might never represent itself again, I studied him as though I’d never seen him before.

His eyelashes were so long that they feathered against his skin. He has the nose of a king, I thought, hating how ridiculous the thought felt. But he did. His mouth was, in a word, sensuous. His jaw was not quite square, yet it was pronounced and strong. The hollow of his throat, too, was exquisitely defined; I had a strange urge to bend down and press my lips against it. His hair gleamed from the flickering flames around us, not a simple shade of brown, but with strands of gold and red. That stubborn, thick lock was right back in its spot, now lodged beneath the crown. The crown itself had tilted, making Collith look like a boy playacting at being king.

It took a few seconds to realize that I hadn’t even noticed the scar. It had become so much a part of him, in my mind, that I’d dismissed it entirely.

I wasn’t sure what that meant, exactly, but it bothered me. My focus deliberately shifted to his arms, which swelled with muscle, down his straight torso, and to his firm thighs. The pants he wore were very, very tight, and I had no trouble examining the considerable bulge there. My core contracted in reaction. The rest of me tensed, too, as I waited for Collith to sense arousal through the bond and open his eyes. When he didn’t, though, I relaxed again and returned to my examination.

Every part of this faerie emanated grace and power. If ever there was a time to kill him, it would be now, while he was vulnerable and unprepared. He’d have no chance to summon the heavenly fire or whatever other weapons he had in that mysterious arsenal.

And yet, despite every reason and logic, I couldn’t bring myself to pull out the shard. Fear held me back, yes, but something else, too. A reluctance to end this creature that I was only just starting to know. An unwillingness to put an arrow through the magnificent stag’s heart.

I glared at Collith and wondered if God had created his angels beautiful for practical reasons, rather than aesthetic ones. A beautiful thing was much harder to destroy than an ugly thing.

Growling in frustration, I swung away.

Laurie stood behind me.

I froze at the sight of him. My heart lurched into a panicked gallop. How much had he seen? Had my thoughts been at all obvious as I’d been standing there? Thank God I didn’t reach for the mirror shard. Say something, Fortuna! instinct screamed. Striving to sound casual, I asked, “Where are the guards?”

Laurie shrugged, a liquid movement. “I’m not entirely certain. Maybe Collith sent them away.”

“What? Why would he do that?”

He gave no answer. My instincts were shrieking like a smoke alarm. There was something different about him, I realized. It seemed like every time I encountered Laurie, another layer of him had fallen away, revealing an entirely new one.

This time, the layer had revealed a faerie. Somehow, at some point, I’d stopped thinking of him as one. That had been my first mistake. His t-shirt and jeans were gone, replaced by a crisp gray suit. The button-up shirt—so white that it had to be brand-new—strategically allowed a glimpse of his skin, which was smooth and golden.

“I don’t like games, Laurie,” I informed him, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way my eyes had lingered in the direction of those undone buttons. There was a warning in the words. After killing the Leviathan, something within me had hardened. Or just broken.

Hearing it, he raised his pale brows. “Then why are you playing one?”

Conscious of Collith sitting a few feet behind us, I moved away from the dais. Laurie trailed after me, hands in his pockets, as though he didn’t have a care in the world. His tan shoes looked like Italian leather. Who the hell was he? Because I was starting to think the browbeaten slave had all been an act. “I’m doing this for Damon,” I hissed.

“Are you?”

His tone was polite, interested, but I sensed the challenge lurking beneath. My patience was a thread swiftly unraveling. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded, forgetting that we were surrounded by dozens of slumbering monsters. I darted a glance at the fae closest to us. Not a single one of them stirred.

Laurie didn’t seem too concerned; he kept his gaze on mine as he said, “We should really stop answering questions with questions. It makes everything so confusing. But I do appreciate how it prolongs our conversation.”

He’s flirting with me, I thought. This time it was unmistakable. What about his so-called loyalty to Collith?

Suddenly it occurred to me that I had no idea what Laurie’s motives truly were. He’d pledged himself to Collith the night we met, but I didn’t know then that faeries could lie. I’d also been desperate for an ally. If Laurie wasn’t dedicated to Collith, what was his angle in helping all this time? In speaking to me now?

He was so fond of games. Fine, I’d play. “Well, you obviously have a theory,” I said at last.

Before Laurie could respond, I made for the far doorway, gingerly stepping over bodies and trash. I didn’t look behind to see if Laurie followed, but I strained to hear his footsteps. The only sound I could detect was that of a faerie violently snoring.

When I reached the doorway again, there was no sign of Úna and her companion. Well, here was to hoping Laurie took the bait, because otherwise I would probably get lost in the tunnels. I swallowed a flutter of nerves in my throat and marched into the darkness.

The first few forks and turns were easy. Once I ventured into the heart of the maze, though, I began to lose confidence. Most of the doors here hadn’t been carved, so there was no discernible way to tell the difference between passages. It wasn’t until I was starting to truly get nervous that Laurie fell into step beside me. As always, his appearance was sudden and soundless.

A sound of relief nearly escaped me. At the last second, I held it back, though. Couldn’t have him thinking he’d gotten the upper hand. I felt my face settle into a dispassionate mask. Just then, however, I was hyper-aware of his hand, which swayed so close to mine.

How had I never realized before that Laurie had never touched me? Not even when he’d been applying makeup to my face; he’d used a brush every single time. He knew I was a Nightmare—doubtless it was why he’d been so careful to avoid physical contact. What secrets lurked beneath his skin? Would his fears show me what he was capable of?

It was this very thought that made me put some distance between us. Pissing Laurie off was too risky right now. Like it or not, I needed him.

We walked for a minute or two in silence. Thankfully, Laurie guided the way without forcing me to ask. It was time I learned more about this enigmatic faerie, but I refused to speak first. I’d discovered a long time ago that most people couldn’t stand silence, and the words they chose said everything.

Yes, but you learned that from humans, reason pointed out. Before I could form a counterargument—great, I was arguing with myself now—Laurie’s voice penetrated the stillness. “Decades ago, I was an addict,” he said, detached, as if he spoke of another person. “Meth, cocaine, heroin. If something new came onto the scene, no matter how little was known about it, I was the first in line to give it a try. A human would’ve died living the way I was.”

I pretended to be uninterested, another tactic I hoped would encourage him to say more. “Fascinating story. Any chance you’re getting close to the end?”

“There was one drug even more consuming than the rest,” he continued, ignoring me in a manner much like Collith’s. “One drug that I still crave, even after surviving withdrawals and attending all those meetings.”

We’d reached the king’s rooms already. Suddenly I couldn’t wait to return to those books and gain some kind of advantage over these creatures. Or at least stop feeling like a child standing before a vast, unstoppable sea. Your mask is slipping. The game isn’t over, that quiet voice reminded me. I halted in front of the door and contemplated it for a moment, as though I were debating whether to just go in. The carving looked alive in the firelight. “What drug is that?” I asked after a notable pause.

Laurie had stopped, too. He was standing closer than I’d realized. He didn’t respond straightaway; he studied me, his eyes bright and searching, as though he could see thoughts written there in ink or blood. He lifted his hand, as though to touch my cheek. Even though it was what I’d wanted a few minutes ago, I tensed, about to move away. He dropped his hand before I could. His expression was … troubled.

“Power,” he answered finally. I blinked, struggling to remember the original question. What drug is that?

The trembling stillness between us shattered. I almost laughed in his face. He thought I wanted the throne?

A dozen retorts rose to my lips, but what would be the point in arguing? If I had my way, we would soon never see each other again. “Think what you want,” I said, pushing the door open and effectively ending the game. Unless the game never ends, that voice whispered. I resisted the urge to snarl at it.

Hinges whined into the silence. I moved over the threshold and faced Laurie. Once again, he was studying me with those metallic eyes of his. It was unnerving, especially when I didn’t know anything about his loyalties or abilities. Maybe he could influence emotions. Maybe he could take my life with a single kiss. Good grief, I’d even turned my back on him. Was I trying to get myself killed? My fingers twitched, yearning to reach for that shard of mirror still tucked away.

When I finally spoke, the air between us felt thick with words unsaid. “I’m here for my brother, and once he’s free, we’re walking out of here,” I snapped. I felt betrayed, somehow. As though the friendship he’d lured me with should have been genuine. It was my fault, though; I’d forgotten what he was. “I’ll leave the crown at the door.”

Laurie’s expression was a blank mask now. “Nothing is ever that simple,” he remarked.

He was right and I knew it. But I couldn’t stand letting him have the last word. I grasped the edge of the door and gazed up at him unflinchingly. Never again would I forget. “Well, it’s like you said. I’m not a faerie.”

Before he could respond, I shut the door in his face.