Page 61 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

I sweep her away from the dancing fae and in Aodhan’s direction. A fae stands close by him and Dante, holding a tray with glasses of wine atop it. I pass one to Ophelia, then take one for myself. I do not have to warn her not to drink it. She tilts it to her lips, but no liquid passes them.

We all need clear heads today.

Aodhan spots me, of course, when we move a little closer. I dip my head in respect, and he does not move from Dante’s side. Dante’s eyes are fixed on the ground, cheeks flushed. Where is Grant? He should be here.

“Uncle. It has been a while.”

Aodhan huffs. “Of course it has,” he says drolly and moves his own wine glass from one hand to the other. “Long enough for you to get over your aversion to pets, I see.”

He reaches over and curls his fingers around Dante’s shoulder. It takes everything in me to remain in place, to not allow the growl building in my chest to rattle up out of my throat. Dante is not his.

“Please, meet Ophelia.”

Ophelia drops into a perfect curtsey, a charming half-smile on her lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says.

“Your soulbond?” Aodhan asks.

I cannot say yes. I cannot nod. I am not fast enough to twist his words in my mind, to alter the meaning so that the answer to the question he is asking is no longer a lie.

“Of course,” Ophelia says smoothly. She hooks her arm through mine and leans into my side. “Dante is a friend of mine. The best of friends.”

Perhaps she has somehow had a chance to speak with Grant about the rumour he undoubtedly sparked with Zomo yesterday, or she is simply staking her own claim. When Aodhan frowns, she lifts her chin a little higher and her eyes spark with challenge.

More the latter than the former then.

But Aodhan, thankfully, lets go of Dante’s shoulder. “Apologies,” he says. “It is rare to see an uncollared pet.”

Dante’s cheeks redden further. I move closer to my uncle, and Ophelia steps aside, taking her place beside Dante. “I have never been one for collars,” I say.

Aodhan shrugs. He swirls the wine in his glass, looking into the depths of the dark liquid. “I thought you were not one for crowns, either. Much has changed and so quickly.”

“The human realm is different. And my presence here did not appear to be optional.”

“Quite. You allowed her to be taken?”

“No.”

“Those Seelie should be made an example of then. What happens when you wear the crown? Or will your Seelie king protect you?”

He knows about Oisin then, which is hardly a surprise. Where is he? Avoiding Aodhan, maybe, but that does not bode well for our rule.

“They have been dealt with,” I reply, and Aodhan quietly snorts. “It is of little consequence. Yes, I plan to rule with Oisin. It has been a long time since we had a Seelie and Unseelie ruler.”

I am parroting Veles’ words. I do not remember who came before my parents, but right now, I do not care.

“How long, I wonder?” Aodhan murmurs, but he does not appear to be speaking to me. Ophelia and Dante have moved a few paces away, and Ophelia speaks to him in quiet tones.

“Let us only hope that both of you can put a stop to our realm’s collapse,” Aodhan says.

“That is why we are here.” They wouldn’t have trapped me here otherwise. Aodhan knows that, too.

He will make his move after Oisin and I have bonded then; whatever move that might be. It makes sense. Strike now, and he removes any hope of saving the realm. Later, and he can blame one of us, maybe even both of us.

“Well, I suppose I should enjoy the party then.” Aodhan inclines his head mockingly towards me before he strides away.

Ophelia pulls a face at Aodhan’s retreating back, but when I look at Dante, he is breathing hard, hands clenched into fists.

“Are you—” I begin, but he shakes his head.