“I’m Myrtha of the Dark Court.” She placed a gentle hand on my forehead without causing me any pain. “Fear not. I’m not here to hurt you.”
It wouldn’t be possible for me to feel more pain.
“What…happened?” I forced the words out.
“Your betrothed killed your father, your servants, emptied your father’s safe, and set fire to the house.” She caressed my head.
A sob tore out of me. I was wrong. I could feel more pain.
Blood spilt from my lips. Papa. My dear papa. The pain squashed my chest, and a choking sensation wrapped around my neck line a vine. I couldn’t breathe. Jones had been with us since my parents had married. And all the other servants, good people who had died for no reason.
My fury grew, a monster fed by my desire for vengeance. People had made fun of me and shunned me, and I’d endured the loneliness and the scorn without resentment. But Sean had killed my dear papa, and I wanted him dead.
She leant closer to whisper in my ear, “Do you wish for revenge? Do you want to make him pay for what he did to you and your father? He was brutal. He showed no mercy. He slew innocent people without remorse. Doesn’t he deserve your anger? Doesn’t he deserve to die?”
Her words were like kerosene on a fire. I had no idea I was capable of such deep hatred. It was a fierce energy, burning deeply within me. In a way, it gave me strength.
“Yes.” I wasn’t sure whether I’d spoken at all. “He must die.”
Between the sobs and the agony, nothing might have come out.
Maybe I was already dead, and this woman was here to claim my soul.
“You aren’t going to die today.” She glowed more brightly. “Welcome to your new life, Irene.”
16
A NEW WILI
Alex
For years, I’d searched for bloody Johnny Riley and found rumours and lies.
After having beaten me within an inch of my life and left me for dead, he’d vanished. No one knew where he was. He might have left the country for all I knew.
But I could wait to catch him. Time was one thing I had plenty of. Monsters always crawled out of their hiding places sooner or later. I knew that because I was one of them.
What I didn’t have was time for trivialities. But ruling the Dark Court meant dealing with them.
After Darius and I had gone to the Dark Court, a disagreement between the duke and us had arisen. The duke had coldly agreed to take me in but had firmly rejected Darius, claiming he’d been too weak and insignificant. I’d stood up for my best friend. A fight between the duke and me had ensued, and I’d won.
I was Ravenhill, the new Duke of the Dark Court.
The position came with some perks—a mansion, minions at my disposal, money, and power. The downside was having to deal with the fairies, werewolves, and complaints from everyone.
I walked down the sweeping stairs of Raven Hall, tailed by Graves, an annoying werewolf, who lacked the qualities of a big dog but possessed all the annoying faults of a yapping Yorkshire terrier throwing a tantrum.
On top of that, I needed to feed, and an empty stomach always made me grumpy.
Graves stomped behind me, screeching his boots on the marble steps. “Ravenhill, you can’t walk away like that.”
“I’ve just proved you wrong.”
The maids cleaning the stairs bowed at my passage, and I nodded back. Between the marble present everywhere and the high-vaulted ceiling, the place was never properly warm. Even I found it cold.
“I’m serious!” Graves’s voice rose. “You must listen to me.”
I pivoted, clenching a gloved hand. “Don’t tell me what I must or mustn’t do. Whitechapel is Knight’s territory. I won’t start a war with the Moon Court.”
