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Cress arches a brow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“More of the usual. Someone wishing me dead for no other reason beyond their own self-serving desires. Vivian, Father, Mihal⁠—”

“What of Mihal?” Her attention snaps to mine. “Has he threatened you?”

In a matter of minutes, I fill her in on everything—Mihal’s plan to assassinate me, Quill’s merciless beating, his decision to Challenge Mihal for his spot on the council. Her eyes grow wider and wider, and by the time I finish, she’s gobsmacked.

“Black hell, Rory,” Cress breathes. “How did you manage to get yourself sired into this mess?”

“I left out the best part,” I whisper faintly, weary of lingering eyes and ears in the depths of the oceans. Cutting Cress a sly grin, I sign, “We’re mates.”

Her jaw drops as she signs back, “You’re sure?”

I nod. “I felt the pull to him even when I was mortal.”

There’s a splash to our left, and my senses are overly alert as Cress and I spring to our feet. She positions herself in front of me as if she’s my own personal guard. I inch beside her. I’m not so breakable anymore.

“Easy there, wolf,” a female voice croons, seductive and light, as she breaches the waves and climbs onto a flattened rock. She’s quite beautiful with pale pink hair that falls in luscious waves over bronze, sun-warmed skin. Her bottle-green gaze meets mine. “Rory Alarie, the female who finally broke Quill’s fast.” Pearl-white teeth flash in an appreciative grin. “The male has taste, I’ll give him that.”

“What are you doing here, Cora?” Cress asks, fingernails lengthening into claws.

Cora’s gaze drifts over Cress, and her appreciative grin turns violent. “My business does not involve you, heiress. Run along.”

Heiress? Surprise longs to etch itself across my face, but I keep my features impassive.

“If it involves me,” I say tightly, “then it involves her.”

She plucks a long strand of seaweed from her hair. “Knowledge of personal affairs is power in the Wyldelands, fledgling. Are you sure?”

I lift my chin, adamant.

“Very well.” She flings an iridescent blue clamshell onto the shore. “Listen in front of the heiress or don’t. I don’t care. Just be a dear and pass this along to your sire, would you?”

Chapter 24

QUILL

“Be straight with us, Ash. What are the chances Alyvia will back Quill?” Risna asks from where she lounges on an overstuffed velvet settee, petting a purring Florin.

Ash’s second—Kaleb—glares daggers at Risna and the cat who can’t be bothered to do anything beyond blink lazily at him. It makes his snarl broaden. When Risna declared she was bringing Ioana Valcov’s cat to the Shore of the Damned, I had been slightly concerned Florin might be triggering for Rory, knowing what her father had done to the cats she’d cared for.

I should never have doubted her reaction. My mate is stronger than silver. She simply cuddled the feline and spoke the memory loose. I nearly destroyed the window at hearing the words spill from her lips, hearing the thickness in her voice, but afterward, when she decided against revenge, she seemed so much lighter. As if talking through the trauma she endured lightened the burden of carrying it.

Ash lifts a shoulder. “It’s hard to say, knowing the history of Godrick’s affliction.”

“Because it may lie dormant in me, I do not partake in mortal blood drinking,” I say sharply. “Rory was an exception.”

“And the mortal blood you drank at Aeviternal was what? Another exception?” Ash shakes his head. “How many exceptions will you allow yourself before the Bloodlust takes hold?”

Bastards have spies everywhere.

“What happened in Aeviternal was absolutely necessary,” Risna snaps. “Mihal had me whip Quill with silver until the bastard grew bored. Would you like to see the scars on his back?”

That wouldn’t be possible considering the scars are completely healed, courtesy of Rory. I don’t get a chance to say as much before Kaleb snarls, “Why are you even here, Risna?”

Eivor bares his teeth. “She’s Quill’s second, just as you’re Ash’s. If you have a problem with anyone being here, it should be with Carver or myself.”

“Be reasonable, Ash.” Carver lurches to his feet. “Quill’s track record speaks for itself. He founded the Mors Soluta to ensure creatures co-exist alongside mortals, whereas Mihal wants to destroy the mortal kings and enslave mortals and all other creatures to him.”