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As always, there had been none.
The kings before me hadn’t taken the killings seriously enough, and that gave the damn murderer time to perfect their method long before I was ever in a situation to find the killer.
The rest of the fae had already gone home or out to taverns, looking to drink away the stress of the day. We’d continue searching when morning came around, but the fact that we hadn’t found anything was far from a good omen.
The door opened, and Eisley stepped in. Her expression was clouded as she sat down in the chair beside me.
A long, heavy moment passed between us before she finally said, “You didn’t hear this from me, but I heard people talking about seeing Bright and Nissa in a tavern.”
I blinked.
Atavern?
Why would Nissa go to a tavern?
I had no idea if our ale would affect her. Or if the other males would try to charm her in an attempt to share a bed with her. I’d lied to them about taking a mate, and they thought I wasn’t interested in her. If any of them tried anything…
Veil, I’d kill them.
“Thanks,” I told her, already striding across the room toward Death, who was sitting in the hallway.
He was up and waiting for me when I made it through the doors. I threw a leg over his back, and he took off through the castle. We were in the trees a moment later, running toward our females.
It didn’t take long to get there. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I was striding into the tavern. My eyes landed on my female immediately, finding her small, soft form and her long, dark green hair without a problem.
She looked calm, with her hands wrapped around a glass of ale that was the wrong color.
Had someone drugged it?
I fought the urge to snarl at everyone and whisk her out of there, to make sure she was alright. She’d told me she wasn’t feeling well—and when I stopped by the room to check on her after talking to the elves, she wasn’t there. I had assumed she started feeling better and went out to do something, not that she’d gone to atavern.
Apparently, I should’ve reached out to her mind or asked Death to find her instead.
There was an empty chair on one side of her, and Noin sat on the other. Rather than throwing her over my shoulder and stealing her away like I wanted to, I forced myself to calmly cross the tavern and take the seat next to her.
She glanced over at me, and then looked over again with surprise lighting those gorgeous green eyes. Her cheeks were flushed beautifully, but she said nothing.
If she wasn’t bothering with a greeting, neither was I.
I plucked her glass from her hands, ignoring her weak protest as I lifted it to my nose and sniffed. It smelled like… watery ale. I only allowed myself to drink once or twice a year—usually at the eclipse—but I still knew the scent well.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Weak ale. It’s gross, huh?” She tried to take it back anyway.
I hadn’t smelled anything suspicious on the liquid, and I believed that.
I moved it away from her. “Why are you in atavern, Nissa? You told me you were ill.”
She opened her mouth to speak, then glanced around the room.
“Little human,” I warned.
“I’m a farmer now,” she finally said. “Farmers drink ale.” She tried to steal the drink from me again, but the attempt was almost humorously ridiculous.
“What does that mean?” I was still itching to grab her and get out of there.
She huffed at me. “You don’t care.”
