“Stop!” My gut churns, and I raise my open palms in surrender. “Please, let me explain.”
His brows knit together. “Who else could he be, aside from the King of Light? Though I can’t say I’ve heard him described as particularly chivalrous.”
“I’m not the king of anything,” E grunts. “She’s not a spy, and neither am I.”
My heart hammers at how broken and battered he sounds.
Just then, Nick bursts into the tent with both daggers drawn, Lysandra rushing in after him in a dark cloak, her face pinched with alarm.
“Lower your weapon! My sister hasn’t done anything wrong!”
“Nick, wait!” Lysandra’s hand hovers near the horn at her belt. “Should I sound the alarm, milord?”
Luther doesn’t take his eyes off me. “I thought Lady Maxine was a Red spy, but there’s a man here with her.”
“He’s no one. A ghost!” Nick says breathlessly. “I swear we are onyourside. Let’s figure this out, alright?”
In the distance, a warning horn cuts through the camp before anyone can speak.
Nearby canvas flaps snap open, and boots pound over packed earth.
A guard comes sprinting in, breathless. “Milord! The Red Queen has breached the perimeter, along with battalions from the Red and Sun Courts.”
“Fucking hells.” Purple electricity races over Luther’s arms and along the edge of his sword. “Nobody moves, or I fry us all with a bolt of lightning that’ll melt the flesh right off your bones.”
Nick and I exchange a heavy glance. I have no doubt Luther can make good on that promise.
“I have to greet our unexpected guests. Maxine here is going to come with me, and if either of you tries anything, she will die,” he says flatly, his free hand closing around my lower arm as he pulls me out of his tent.
Wind whips through the trees, and branches thrash overhead. I jerk my gaze skyward. Moments ago, the heavens were clear, save for a few clouds obscuring the moon. Now black clouds roll above our heads at impossible speed, and thunder growls low and deep.
Ice creeps into my bones, locking my body from the inside out, while electricity snaps through my nerves in violent bursts that leave every muscle taut and trembling. His shadows don’t merely surround me—they enter me, filling the hollow spaces between heartbeat and thought until I can no longer tell where my body ends and Luther’s magic begins.
By the Darkness and all its whispers…
Before, he was merely posing as a Fae prince, holding back the true extent of what he is. Now, he feels closer to a god.
Rain pitter-patters through the canopy and leaves a fresh kiss on my neck. From the corner of my eye, I see Nick following at a safe distance, but E’s whereabouts are a mystery. I hope he’s not too badly hurt.
I pray he doesn’t do anything rash.
Static electricity prickles my skin as Luther drags me past the outer ring of guards and deeper into the darkness, until the tavern lights dim behind us and the forest closes in.
The tip of his eerie sword presses between my shoulder blades as eight women emerge from the trees in a deliberate attack formation. Their boots whisper over the leaf-littered ground without making a sound. They move like trained killers, silent and coordinated, each one armed with a katana and dressed in layered, opulent shades of red.
“I knew you were a spy,” Luther whispers satisfyingly in my ear. “Now, let’s see if your queen cares for your life at all.”
The Reds all wear jeweled scarves across their brows.
All except one.
The woman leading the charge wears a crown instead.
A circlet rests atop her auburn hair, its frame woven from living ironwood roots taken from the Lorntre tree, twisted together with bands of dark metal. Crimson sap glimmers along the aged wood, echoing the deep red stones set at its center.
Lillivere stands before us.
The woman responsible for my mother’s death. The one who pretended to be her friend before hunting her down and killing her.
