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Lorian murmured the name of each warden in my ear. Thanks to our conversation in the early hours of the morning, I knew exactly what we needed from each of them.
Romydan was short and slight for a fae, his frame diminutive but far from frail. His walk was purposeful, his stride as fluid as water spilling from a cup.His white hair had been braided and hung to his waist, contrasting vividly with his ebony robe, silver symbols etched into the fabric. His guards were numerous—so numerous that they were more like a private, well-trained, and highly powerful army.
Thorn’s beauty was so cold, I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn she could freeze the air in my lungs. Her skin was so pale, it seemed to glow, while her eyes held a chilling blue hue so light, it threatened to fade into the whites. Her gown was long, diaphanous, and a color I had no words for, except that it reminded me of moonlight. According to Lorian, Thorn was the third most powerful person in this kingdom—after Conreth and himself. Her full power had returned as soon as the amulet had been removed from Jamic’s neck.
Verdion came next. The pronounced jut of his chin and his long eyelashes clearly marked him as Rythos’s father even if I hadn’t already known. Tall, even for the fae, Verdion wore a cloak of sapphire velvet that complimented his dark skin, trailing several feet behind him. But where Rythos was quick to grin, his eyes constantly laughing, his father’s tight expression seemed etched in stone. Even if we were successful in convincing Daharak to ally with us, I’d seen the power of Verdion’s ships firsthand—including the way they could travel beneath the waves. We needed them.
Verdion didn’t greet his son. Didn’t even bother to nod our way. I couldn’t tell if it hurt Rythos or not—his face was carefully blank, his eyes cooler than I’d ever seen them. I wanted to reach over and squeeze his hand, but I buried my hands in my gown instead.
Caliar sauntered, and where Thorn’s beauty was cold, he seemed to radiate fire. His skin was a deep tan that seemed to absorb and reflect the light, automatically drawing attention, while his bright-red hair hung freely around his face. His eyes glittered with suppressed mirth. Draped in orange-red robes, he looked as if he might burst into laughter—or flames—at any moment. His family had been responsible for the wards encompassing the fae lands for centuries. According to Lorian, wards were in his family’s blood. The kinds of wards that could protect our people from Regner’s fae iron.
Finally, Sylvielle appeared, clad in emerald silk that shimmered with her every move. Her territory was known for its deadly predators—predators she wielded at will to guard her own borders. Predators we could use in this war. Of all the wardens, she was the only one to acknowledge Lorian’s presence—likely against Conreth’s orders. She smiled at him, her full mouth revealing teeth that looked unnervingly sharp, almost predatory. Her yellow-green gaze slid to me, sweeping me with a disdainful look.
“Ah,” I muttered under my breath.
Lorian reached out and squeezed my hand. “It was several decades ago, wildcat.”
“Uh-huh. I remember what you said about liking dangerous women.”
Lorian leaned close. “You’ll pay for that remark later,” he whispered in my ear.
I scanned Sylvielle once more. I didn’t think it was a coincidence that her dress perfectly matched Lorian’s eyes.
On my other side, Rythos let out a low chuckle.
Sylvielle sat down, several well-dressed women claiming their seats next to her. And then everyone rose as Conreth entered, Emara on his arm. She looked breathtaking in a gauzy gold gown.
Conreth sat next to Heydrin,Emara on his other side. I hadn’t seen Heydrin since the camp, but he appeared as calm as ever. If he was bothered that Conreth hadn’t looked at him once, he didn’t show it.
“Thank you for your attendance.” Conreth nodded at the wardens.
We all sat. The room hummed with power. Now that they had two of their amulets back, the fae were stronger than they had been for some time. Even knowing I was unlikely to need it, I had to clamp down on the urge to caress the hourglass hanging around my neck.
“We gather here to discuss war. For, make no mistake, this is not a battle that will be fought solely in the human kingdoms. The humans will come to our borders. And if we do nothing, they will take down our ward.”
Lorian tensed. Likely, it was in surprise. Neither of us had expected Conreth to admit that the fae ward might fail.
“Are you accusing my people of failing the fae?” Caliar asked. He no longer looked amused.
Conreth pinned him with a look. “Since the loss of the first amulet, it was necessary for your people to continually travel to the wards and reinforce them. Has this been happening?”
Caliar kept his gaze on Conreth. “My people couldn’t be expected to sacrifice what little power they had left for wards that have stood for centuries.”
“They could be expected to,” Conreth said softly. “Because their king ordered them to. Instead, you chose to disregard orders, just as your father chose not to speak of the loss of the first amulet. Your family has learned nothing.”
Caliar’s cheeks burned, but his eyes burned brighter.
I didn’t like to think about the fae wards. Because when I did, all I could see was my people, slamming their hands against them and begging for safety while Regner cut them down. But now, knowing those wards likely wouldn’t hold against Regner and his stolen power…
Every muscle in my body locked up. The hybrid camp would be his first target.
If it was Caliar’s father who had refused to report the theft of his amulet, then he was the reason the barrier had been created at all. Caliar’s father was responsible for all of the “sons” Regner had murdered to keep that barrier in place. All because this man didn’t want to fulfill his obligation.
“This once again proves that they should never have been given the responsibility of an amulet,” Verdion said. “My people would never have allowed such a thing to happen.”
Rythos had once told me Quorith had been considered too small to be worthy of an amulet. Now, it was one of the most important territories in the fae lands—both strategically and based on population. But clearly, Verdion still wasn’t willing to forgive the ancient slight.
“We don’t have time to linger on our history,” Lorian said. “If we are to survive this war, we must work together.”
