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“That’s the magic of the story,” says Nerissa. “No one knows where he fled once his curse was broken. Some say you can hear the flap of his wings in the wind deep in the mountains in the Everlasting Highlands. Others believe he’s merely a beautiful male now, living somewhere in the Wyldelands, waiting for his siren love to find him once more.”

Cora swoons at that. “I could only be so lucky.”

Rory giggles. “Do you fancy taming wild beasts?”

“If you have any tips,” Cora says slyly, eyes drifting between the two of us, “I’d love to hear them.”

“Are you insinuating I’m a wild beast?” I ask, appalled. “You have sand embedded beneath your nails, and⁠—”

“You are a bit beastly, Quill,” says Rory, effectively silencing me. She pats my hand, and with a wink adds, “But I quite enjoy it.”

Cora pretends to gag. “Thank you for the reminder as to why I despise being in the presence of newly-found mates.”

“Speaking of which,” Nerissa says. “The two of you should head out to Nightfell. The village itself and surrounding woods is warded from mysting, so you’ll need to factor in a bit of a walk.”

“And me?” Cora asks. “Where would you have me go next, my queen?”

“That depends.” She purses her lips. “I’ve done my part, son. Alyvia and Eliphas will meet with you at midnight. All that’s left is⁠—”

“Fucking Riven,” I grumble.

Cora’s ears perk up. “Oh, I’ll happily take a message to the Fae Isles.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Cora,” I say, barely restraining an exaggerated eye roll. “The king doesn’t fuck creatures who aren’t fae.”

Rory spits blood back into her mug, coughing.

“I truly do not want to hear about Riven’s sex life,” Nerissa says, shaking her head. “Or lack thereof.”

“And I,” Cora says sharply, “have no need to bed the fae king. I do, however, wish to pay my cousin a visit, and she dwells just outside the Fae Isles. Ready your message, Quill.”

Hunching over the kitchen counter and scrawling a short note to my brother, I can’t help but fear I’m making a grave mistake.

I bathe and dress in a matter of minutes while Cora and Rory disappear into the bedroom. Five minutes pass. Ten. There’s giggling and gasping and the distinct sound of an admiring whistle before the bedroom door creaks open and an angel of death steps into the hallway.

I am rendered speechless.

Rory’s dressed in simple black: tight pants that cling to her form and thigh-high boots made of smooth, buttery leather, paired with a matching tucked-in black shirt. Her hair is braided into a crown around her head and embellished with seashells. A statement from Nerissa if I’ve ever seen one. She approves of Rory, and she wants Alyvia, Eliphas, the whole damn village, to know it.

Rory cocks a brow. “Are you going to stand around and gawk at me all night or are we going to go secure another two votes?”

Chapter 30

QUILL

The forest is a thick tangle of trees and roots, but Rory maneuvers around them beautifully, and soon enough, we’re stepping through the brush and onto a trail that should lead directly to Nightfell.

The stars shine brightly above us, and I catch Rory tilting her head back, searching the sky.

“You won’t see Rosemarie and Archer’s constellations from here,” I tell her. “We’re too far south.” I point to the mountains clawing toward the night sky. “Those are the Everlasting Highlands, where the stories say Drache disappeared to.”

“I didn’t have the heart to tell Nerissa I’d heard a version of that story before,” she says. “My nursemaid used to read fables to me before bed, thinking tales of creatures and the threat they pose to mortals would coerce me into embracing my role as Adelphi’s Sacrifice without question.” She rolls her eyes. “Little did she know, it did the opposite. I became obsessed with creatures, devouring any information about them I could get my hands on.”

I search the stars for where the Southern Cross and the Pointers intersect to ensure we’re still heading south and ask, “Did you ever think you’d become a creature yourself?”

She snorts. “Not once.”

“Neither did I,” I say with a chuckle. “But I’m glad I did.”