I lick my lips and begin slowly, “Shadow dust. In the Unseelie Courts—”
“Where Ryn is from?” Cian questions.
I nod and continue, “Basically, when that gloomy ass heavy fog rubs against the magic of the wards it produces a substance called shadow dust. It's native to Unseelie lands, and it can't be reproduced.”
Oliver hums, “Very powerful stuff, andveryillegal to possess.”
“Right. Harvesting it for personal use is forbidden, which isn’t really an issue, because it’s spelled to collect into a vault at the Unseelie Court.” I run a hand over my face and sigh. I think it was thedesperation in Ryn’s voice when we talked about it that made me think maybe Saskia could have gotten it some other way, but talking it over with Cian and Oliver has confirmed in my mind that it’s impossible.
“So the only way to get it is to—what? Break into a vault at the Unseelie Court?” Cian frowns and looks at me from under his heavily furrowed brows, “Seth, please tell me you’re not thinking about breaking into a vault at the Unseelie Court while on probation.”
Oliver, to his credit, only blinks. I watch as he purses his lips as if he’s thinking about the possibility and weighing our odds. A small laugh puffs out of my chest, and I shake my head, “No, I’m not. Although I swear for a minute there, Ollie was down.”
He turns pink around his ears and huffs as I continue, “Saskia, Ryn’s sister, has somehow managed to get her hands on a substantial amount of shadow dust.”
“Oh, fuck.” All the color that had been bleeding into Oliver’s features from his blush fades almost instantly as he pales.
Cian glances at each of our faces on his screen and draws in a measured breath, “And how easy is it to break into a vault?”
“A vault? Probably not impossible. The vault that holds the shadow dust? Spelled to the royal bloodline.” I bite the inside of my lower lip and swallow hard.
Both Cian and Oliver are silent for a few beats, trying to process what that means. I can see the moment they come to the same conclusion that has my anxiety through the fucking roof. Cian’s face hardens, and Oliver’s eyes grow sharp as he says, “So, someone with royal blood is supplying her with a highly controlled, incredibly potent magical substance. Why?”
“Didn’t you say an Unseelie prince was funding Ryn’s project?” Cian narrows his eyes, and I nod in answer.
Oliver’s eyes widen as he mumbles, “Well, fuck.”
17
Kier Motherfucking Darro
Ryn
“You need an appointment! You can’t just—” a fae woman with sleek white hair and a sharp nose circles her ornately carved desk to block my way, but before she can get her deceptively powerful arms around me, I shoulder-check her. My fingers tingle with concentrated magic as I shock her on contact, growling out a late warning.
“I think you’ll find that Ican, actually.” Her body slides to the floor in a heap, and I step over it before pushing open the dark, heavy wooden double doors that lead to Kier’s personal quarters.
It’s definitely outside calling hours, but when I woke up to an empty bed and overheard Seth talking to his friends about my situation, I knew I couldn’t wait. They weren’t actually planning anything from the sounds of it, but I doubt it would be long until Seth came up withsome half-cocked idea to solvemyproblems. I’ll be damned straight to hell and back if my stupidly loyal boyfriend does anything to get his obnoxiously fine ass locked up. For me? Absolutelynot.
My hands tingle with excess magic and adrenaline as I walk briskly down the medieval Gothic-style corridor. It’s almost laughable how on the nose this place looks for a tall, dark, and spooky villain type. Almost, because while it is incredibly cliché, I’d be lying through my teeth if I didn’t concede how beautiful it is.
“Do you make it a habit of incapacitating the help when you visit other people’s homes, or is it just me who gets that pleasure?”
I stop in my tracks and whip my head around, zeroing in on a small alcove with a window seat, where Kier is sitting with his back leaning against the wall. There’s a book in his hand and a blade at his hip, but overall, this is the most casual I’ve ever seen him. His long hair shines in the light of the elegant sconces decorating the walls, and his skin glows a warm hazelnut. A rich maroon shirt hangs open at the chest and is only half tucked into his black, fitted pants. He’s fully clothed, but for him, he’s practically indecent. I blink and meet his eyes, a flush staining my cheeks when I realize he’s smirking at my obvious perusal.
There’s no point in explaining that it’s the informality that's caught me off guard, and not his looks—he’d probably just use it against me. I clear my throat and straighten my spine, “Do you make it a habit to backstab your partners?”
He laughs. The motherfuckerlaughs. It’s deep and weirdly musical, and while I’m sure it’s a sound that would have some women swooning, it unnerves me. The hair on the back of my neck tickles as it stands on end, and goosebumps break out over my flesh.
“Yes, actually,” Kier leans forward with a smirk and places his book down on the window seat next to him. “If the occasion calls for it.” He tilts his head at me questioningly, and his eyes sparkle as he hums, “But I must admit, I’m stumped. How is it that I’ve backstabbed you, precisely? Please, do be specific.”
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him, allowing magic to seep into the tips of my fingers in case I need to defend myself with little notice. “The stones. The onesyoutasked me to figure out.”
Kier raises one elegant brow and rolls his hand expectantly, and I hesitate. Why the fuck is he acting so blasé?
“Oh, drop the act already. I know she's working with a royal, and it’s fucking shadow dust, Darro! That’s why they work—which I’m sure you know, since Saskia could only get it one way. Fromyou.”
Before I can even blink, he’s up, and his heavy hand wraps around my throat. Pain explodes against the back of my head as he shoves me against the stone wall, and I grab frantically at the hand cutting off my air supply.
