“I can never thank you enough.” Morgan glanced at the wolves who’d died, and her face hardened. “We take them with us when we leave. They deserve to be laid to rest like warriors.”
Louis gave a grateful nod.
“Morgan—”
“No.” She ignored Draven and headed toward the throne room. “We end this now.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Morgan was done playing by their rules.
It was time they played by hers.
She cupped her hands together, a ball of energy forming between her palms as she called her magic to the surface. The black, smoky magic was angry and wanted vengeance, blue lightning crackling in the darkness.
Without hesitation, she drew back her arm and launched it at the door to the throne room.
Instead of blasting through the door, the magic splashed against it, coating the surface…then began to eat away at it like acid. Tiny particles of wood and sawdust trickled toward the ground like grains in an hourglass.
The door sagged off the hinges, then wobbled precariously before slamming to the ground and disintegrating in a plume of dust. Morgan didn’t wait for it to settle before she marched across the threshold.
Then rocked to an abrupt stop, coming face-to-face with both fae queens.
The two women were more than elves, they were Tuatha Dé Danann.
Ancient.
From a time before civilization, when the world was savage and premortal.
They had an otherworldly beauty that was unnatural, their eyes just a little too big, a little too far apart, their teeth just a little too sharp. The two queens were complete opposites—one with silky black hair, the other with pure white strands. Morgan sensed glamor disguising them, but she had no desire to peer underneath, not sure that her brain wouldn’t melt if she tried.
The queens of light and dark didn’t act like enemies, more like they were sharing a cup of tea, despite the fact their people were waging a war outside the castle. They wore a type of battle gear, each covered in leather armor, their skirts parting to reveal form-fitting leather pants.
They were as gorgeous as they were deadly.
The guys bowed low, taking a single knee before them, but Morgan refused to bend.
She was a queen in her own right, and her people—her wolves—had died because of their games. That she couldn’t forgive. She gave a curt nod, barely able to hold back her dislike.
She must not have done a very good job of it when the dark queen’s lips twitched, while amusement danced in the light queen’s pale blue gaze.
“Queen of Wolves…you grace us with your presence.” The dark fae glanced at the wolves, and she gracefully bowed her head to the beasts. “And your guardians.”
Morgan barely held back a snort at the slightly judgy tone.
“You never were able to control those mangy creatures,” the light queen murmured. Though her voice was airy, satisfaction tinged the words.
“Werewolves are dangerous, volatile creatures that don’t have the control or restraint of other shifters. They are territorial and possessive to the extreme, more beast than man, and controlled by their emotions.” Though each word condemned them, admiration for their ruthless nature sparkled in her lavender eyes. “They are glorious creatures. It’s a great feat in itself that you are able to command them.”
Morgan narrowed her eyes, suddenly certain that the two queens had already decided her fate. While Morgan might have the power of the gods, she was just a baby compared to the two queens. “Why even bother with a trial when you have already made up your mind? You never had any intention of abiding by Faerie’s decision, did you? At every turn, you tried to have us killed.”
Her mates threw her a stare of death, and she had no doubt she was going to get more than a talking to when they got their hands on her.
She just had to keep them all alive first, and she would do anything to make that happen.
“Did you really think it would be easy?” The dark queen’s laughter wasn’t pleasant, shadows rippling across her face, like a monster was peering out from underneath. “Your presence has pitched elves against each other.”
The light queen took over, her face solemn. “We can’t kill you. It appears Faerie has grown fond of you and would be…displeased. But we can’t let you go either.”
