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The Guardian stepped closer, and I finally got a good look at his face.
The left half of it was beautiful, unmarred skin. One red eye glimmered at us in the poor lighting, and thick, dark hair fell to his chest on that side. There was a small stud in his nose, and a thin lip ring.
The other half was mangled, like the skin had been melted in some parts and singed off in others. That nostril and eye were sealed shut, while his mouth was skeletal, its perfect white teeth framed by bare bone and a sliver of gum.
“Fu—” Neo started, only for Johnny to elbow him in the gut and hiss for him to shut up. If Neo got us killed because he couldn’t control his runaway mouth, I’d be pissed.
“I am Commander Grel Handserlong. I’m here to escort you to the palace.” He gave a short bow similar to the ones Malachi would give the people at the Ports when greeting them. “They’re expecting you.”
“Where are we?” Johnny blurted right as I opened my mouth to answer.
Commander Grel ran a suspicious eye over him before straightening to full his height. “It is the Râ?nov Citadel.”
“Thank you,” Johnny answered. The sun had fully set now, and I was grateful for my night vision as I spotted one of the Commander’s fae as he slunk up to him, his spear lax in his hands.
He whispered something to him in a language I couldn’t understand, and then he stepped back to wait.
“Your welcome party is in full swing.” His accent was thicker than Malachi’s, but he spoke with the same polishedness that he did. It was honestly unnerving watching him speak. “Come. We will take you.”
Reese squeaked in surprise, jerking away from the fae who materialized around us and bumping into Neo. “Jesus! You people need a bell or something.”
The Commander frowned. “That would defeat the purpose of our stealth capabilities.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Humans are strange creatures,” he said, cutting her off. “And yet they are quite beautiful.”
The tension ratcheted up as Neo pulled her to him. “I agree.”
“What welcome party?” Mikey questioned. “They’re throwing us a party?”
The Commander lifted his helmet and settled it on his head. “Yes. You are our honored guests, Sons of Azazel.”
I don’t like this, I said down the bond.
Neither do I. And Mikey likes it least of all.
Her response had my head snapping in my brother’s direction. His eyes flashed from their cerulean blue to white to back again. He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts, and we made eye contact when he looked up.
I raised a brow in question. He subtly shook his head.
“Prepare yourselves,” the Commander said, and then gave us absolutely no time to actually prepare ourselves.
One second, I was looking at Mikey. The next, a cool hand had wrapped around my upper arm, and suddenly after that, I was staring at a huge pair of golden double doors.
There were images carved into it—the door on the left sported a woman from behind, her hands spread as she looked up at the Carpathian Mountains. Behind her, as far as the door was wide, people were bowed before her, their heads pressed into the ground. The one on the right was an image of a man; he sat on a throne, his head propped on his fist as a multitude of people danced before him.
“The Unseelie Queen and the Seelie King,” Neo said quietly.
Aria’s hands were still gripped in my own as we took the Commander in properly for the first time in the light of the room. He was huge, having to be well over eight feet. How I had not registered his height before was beyond me, but when he removed his helmet and motioned for his men to disperse, I couldn’t help the way my angel instantly went on the alert.
Aria tried to soothe us from the bond, but her wolf’s frantic energy only keyed us up further.
“Come. They wait,” he said, and the doors opened inward with a loud swoosh.
Music flooded my senses as we stepped inside. It wasn’t the kind of music humans could make, and the person singing was definitely not human.
The vast room we entered was undoubtedly the throne room. Although people had parted on either side of the walkway at our entrance, they hadn’t stopped dancing or making merry. We could not see the King or Queen where they sat on their dais.
