My bellow rang through the throne room and even the three ogres beside took a shuffle step backward. I raced toward him, weapons drawn.
“You killed my mom!” I slashed at him, but he moved like the wind, dodging all my attacks.
“Don’t allow your emotions to control you.” He blocked my kick with his arm, pain behind his eyes. “Besides, she was Unseelie, remember? Not your real mom.”
“Fuck you,” I cried. Years of training and searching and the bastard was right here the whole time.
“If they don’t kill each other,” the Gwyllion said, “Do it for them. I’ve got a dark court to raise.”
I struck Simeon over and over again, but never grazed him with my blade.
“This is your fault,” I huffed. “All of it. You killed—”
“It wasn’t me.” He held up his hands and I swiped at his arm, but he skipped backward. Sweat dotted his brow. A flash of darkness grinned behind his expression for a split-second and then was gone so fast, I thought I must have imagined it.
“Liar! I saw you.” I blinked back tears, my throat burning. “I was there. You and several Fae surrounded us in the tunnel. Blood was everywhere and she was dead. You were the last one to leave.”
“You must be speaking of my uncle.” He blocked another of my kicks with his elbow. “Stop, Avery, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Did you give my mom the same chance?” I did a double kick, slamming my foot into his chin.
He staggered back, rubbing his jaw. “It wasn’t me.”
“Doesn’t matter. She’s dead because of you—your kind.” How had I lost sight of that? “Fight me.”
I was sick of him being on the defensive. Why wasn’t he striking back?
“You’re the queen,” he whispered. “I live only to serve you, to protect you, to please you.”
“And where were you and your protection when Fae killed my mom?”
“She wasn’t your mom.” He straightened lowering his arms.
“No!” Pain sliced through me, and I roared, plunging both daggers into his chest.
He fell to his knees, his face never twisting in hatred, but in acceptance and kindness.
“Avery,” Helga snapped. “You’re killing Darrius and Malcolm too. Is that what you want?”
I glanced over my shoulder at her. Both of my men were writhing on the floor. My heart shattered. In order to save them, I had to save my enemy. I didn’t think I could do that.
“Wh-Why does Simeon say that my mom wasn’t my mother?” My voice was small, pleading. “It’s a trick, isn’t it?”
“I never lie.” Simeon’s words were raspy as he labored for breath. “Much to Darrius and sometimes Malcolm’s irritation. If they were able, they’d tell you the same.”
“He’s right, lass.” Mr. Browning touched my elbow. “About everything. I was there that night too.”
My body trembled as I looked back at him. “What?”
“The night you were born.” He gave me a soft smile. “Our queen died in childbirth when the dark Fae attacked us. One of them kidnapped you. Searches were done for years until Simeon’s uncle came back severely wounded. A Gwyllion had taken you and they’d trapped her in a tunnel. To thwart them, she sent you away, but trolls were waiting and they killed any warriors who tried to rescue you. The ones that remained to fight the Gwyllion, died.”
“No, no. It can’t be true.” I could not have been raised by a dark Fae. “She didn’t hurt me—why would she have cared for me all those years?”
“I don’t know.” Mr. Browning shook his head.
“Because she fell in love with you—with your spirit. Like the rest of us. She wanted to believe you were her daughter.”
My head spun. Mom’s words echoed in my head, never trust the Fae. Run. “It’s not possible. Can’t be.”
“How else could a human fight off a legion of Fae warriors?” Simeon asked.
“H-How do I heal Darrius and Malcolm?” I squared my shoulders. They mattered more right now than my sorrow and grief over a mother who might have been my enemy and taken me to either kill me or grill me to take over the dark court for her.
The three ogres growled.
“Right. First, we need to take care of them.” I jerked my blades from Simeon’s chest. Blood gushing from the wounds, but they weren’t fatal at least. I had wanted him to suffer. “Heal him.”
Helga nodded and Mr. Browning picked up Malcolm’s discarded sword.
“These bastards are responsible for my beloved’s death. They will die.”
Before I could stop him, the little man raced ahead, with the sword drawn high over his head.
I didn’t want anyone else to die because of me. Sweat trickled down my back as I fought one of the ogres. It was like battling a giant.
One swiped its paw at me, and I miscalculated, the hit knocking me across the room and into a marble column.
“You okay?” Simeon grunted, blocking an ogre’s blow.
“Yeah.” My head pounded.
Mr. Browning ducked back and forth out of the ogre’s reach he was fighting, slicing a thousand cuts on the monster’s hide.
I pushed to my feet, fatigue already clawing through me. “Let’s end this.”
We had to get rid of these ogres and get Darrius and Malcolm healed. Now.
I dove under the ogre’s legs I was fighting, coming up behind him. I dug into his legs with all my strength, slicing both his femoral arteries. Blood squirted everywhere and I moved out of the way of the spray.
Mr. Browning was still fighting his ogre, but Simeon aided him. The ogre he’d battled was already dead on the floor. God, he was good.
“Hurry, Avery,” Helga yelled. “I can’t hold them much longer.”
Darrius…Malcolm. I couldn’t lose them.
I gritted my teeth, leaping through the air to land on the last ogre’s back. My blade sank into the giant’s neck. This would be so much easier if I had my iron blades.
Wait, I had the small iron rods.
I reached for them, but the ogre swung, grasping my leg, and tossing me off. I collided with one of the thrones. The arm cut into my back.
“Avery!” Simeon rushed to me, but the Ogre seized him by the arm, wrenching it.
The snap of his arm being dislocated echoed through the chamber.
“No!” Everything in me broke. I didn’t know Simeon, but he’d accepted my rage and never struck me when I attacked him.
The ogre huffed a laugh, slamming its fist into Simeon’s chest. He collapsed to the ground.
I yanked out my iron rods, but before I could take a step forward, Mr. Browning jumped into the air at the ogre.
The creature snatched him in his meaty fist, squeezing.
“This is for my Beatrice.” He slammed Malcolm’s sword into the ogre’s throat up to the hilt.
Blood spurted from the wound and the ogre crashed to the floor, pinning Mr. Browning beneath him.
My cry ripped from my throat as I rushed over. After prying and pulling, I managed to get Mr. Browning out from under the creature.
His breath rattled with each strained inhale. “You will make a wonderful queen.”
Tears streamed down my face as I held him.
He took his last breath in my arms.