Page 163 of Fallen Court

“Anything,” I repeated.

But Baptiste’s cruel laugh shredded what little hope I had. “Or I can kill them, Cate. One by one. And then you’ll still die. Slowly on the floor next to their bodies. What will it be?”

Cate slipped a hand into her pocket and took out a tiny doll bound in thread. She shot me an apologetic look before she lifted her gaze toward Baptiste. “I’ll offer you a bargain.” She tugged a strand loose and let it unravel.

The spell came with it. The human glamour protecting her dissolved like wisps of smoke.

Cate glowed.

There were gold flecks in her eyes, which were now a darker shade than midnight. Umber curls spiraled over her shoulders down to…

Shaw gasped. “It’s not possible. You’re…”

Gossamer wings unfurled from behind her back, shimmering in hues of blue and violet.

“I thought your kind lost their wings,” Baptiste said, raising her brows as she reached out and pinched one of them.

Cate yelped, the wings tucking tightly against her, and curled forward, instinct knowing what she couldn’t—that her wings were delicate and sensitive and that she needed to protect them.

No one moved. No one breathed. Silence stretched through the room like an eternity.

“It’s really a pity.” Baptiste studied the wings like they were a prize, like she might pin them to a wall like a captured butterfly in a box. “But…”

Her index finger curled over the trigger. Roark stiffened, preparing to spring. Shadows ached at my fingertips, ready to lash out. Even Ciara shifted almost imperceptibly on her knees. We could take Baptiste, but not faster than her trigger finger would kill Cate.

“I have wasted my life,” I said softly. Baptiste paused to cast a curious stare in my direction, and I continued desperately. “When my parents died, I vowed I would never allow this court to fall. I armed myself with control. I held power as tightly as I could. I made choices for my family and told myself I didn’t care if they resented me as long as they were alive. And when I hated the man in the mirror, I told myself that was the price I paid to protect them, to protect the Nether Court.”

Tears traced sparkling paths down Cate’s flawless cheeks. She was as lovely as a fae as she was under her human glamour, the beauty both different and somehow perfectly and undeniably belonging only to her.

I kept my eyes on Cate as I nodded. “But you’re right. Love broke me. It shattered my illusions. It ripped apart that armor. It showed me that I was nothing before she walked into my life. Because there was no point to any of it if it came at the cost of laughter and joy and family. Real family. Not edicts and orders and business. So if you let me die in her place, it will have been worth it to save her, to have one last moment, one more breath, to hear one more beat of my heart knowing that I called her mine.”

Baptiste’s gaze traveled from me back to Cate, her eyes softening. “Dante,” she murmured, “I want you to call Oberon. I need to tell him there’s been a…development.”

Hope sparked in my chest as Dante took out his phone and dialed. “She needs to speak with you.” He passed the call to her.

“We’ve had a bit of a hiccup,” she said, and I held my breath. “The entire Nether Court paid me a visit. Don’t worry, though; it won’t be long now. I thought you might like to be here after the ward falls. I’ll be able to wipe out most of them. Bring your sister to collect her toy, and he’ll be ready to make her his queen. The throne will be yours in minutes.”

“Bitch.” Roark sprinted for her, but she caught him in a chokehold. “Dante”—she barked his name—“kill the changeling.”

But the vampire hesitated, his eyes dipping to Channing’s body. Resolve hardened his features. He opened his mouth, pain twisting his face as he managed one word: “No.” And then, “I won’t kill his sister.”

Baptiste stared, unaccustomed to having a vampire disobey a direct order. “She’s not his sister!”

But Dante backed up a step. He shouldn’t have been able to defy his sire, but his decision was clearly made. Not for Baptiste. Not even for Cate. This wasn’t about an agenda. It was the same thing that had stopped me from murdering Channing for his betrayal of Cate. It was what had driven me to welcome her brother into my home. Love changed the math. It changed us. Love made us capable of doing the impossible.

“We need to break the spell,” she hissed, eyes as sharp as broken glass. “Disobedient little switch. Fine, we’ll start with this one. Make your peace with the gods.” She raised the gun to Roark.

Ciara released a shattering scream, lurching forward on hands and knees, dragging her wounded leg behind her. I drew my gun, reaching into my pocket, my eyes locked with my penumbra. He nodded just once, understanding passing between us.

“Stop,” Shaw bellowed, producing his own weapon and pointing it at my heart.

Baptiste grinned, triumph written all over her face.

“Why?” I asked him. “Is it because of Titania?” I should have seen it, but my arrogance had made me blind.

“Titania?” He bit his lip as he waved his gun. “It started that way. She loved me. Or I thought she did. I’ve never had much experience with love, you know? Now? Now, there’s no choice. My bargain with Oberon demands the bona fides be destroyed. The only way to do that is to spill fae blood. Someone has to die. It was easier to agree before…before I met Cate. Before she came into our lives. She changed things.” His voice cracked. “But a bargain is a bargain. It can’t be broken.”

I looked to Cate instinctively, something darker and oilier than betrayal swimming in my veins, and found the same bleakness dimming her eyes. The feeling oozed into the pit forming in my stomach. This was all my fault. Since he’d returned from school, I’d pushed Shaw away in an attempt to keep him from the family business. I’d treated him like a kid, shunted him to guard duty, rolled my eyes at his choice in friends. And it wasn’t just him. There was another reason Fiona preferred New York. Even Ciara, who had stuck around and put up with me, had fallen all over herself to befriend Cate. Because I’d failed all of them, and I knew what this horrible, ugly thing inside me was finally: shame.