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Calista nodded stiffly. “I’ll see it done. Be ready, but not a moment too soon, shadow queen. I want to see those littles become royal thieves. It’ll be entertaining watching the Nightrender meet his match with schemers.”

Malin smiled, but her lip quivered. To separate was more difficult than we anticipated. The only one who seemed ready to swim back to the isles was Gunnar. But who could blame him? Only a few faces from King Valen’s rocky isle would join us on the journey to the Court of Stars. None of them the sitting kings or queens.

The young prince kissed his mother’s cheeks and embraced her tightly before bidding farewell to his uncles and aunts. Like Gunnar, Hagen Strom kissed Herja; he whispered in her ear, holding her close. Gunnar’s father would be with us, along with Niklas, Junie, Ash, and Stieg. The rest would remain hidden offshore until the right moment.

Unless we failed on our part.

Heavy dread settled in my gut. Davorin played games, he knew where to slash his blade to do the most damage, and he would be expecting betrayal when we arrived for a trade. No mistake, he’d plan to keep Eryka, the storyteller, and his little raven.

He’d yet to voice them, but the way Ari’s jaw pulsed, the way he kept retracing the trails we’d take on a map of the isles, the way he’d come to my side every few breaths to kiss my knuckles or my head, all gave up his own unease.

We didn’t look back when Stieg shoved us off. We didn’t speak when the chill of sea clouds devoured us. We looked ahead to the outline of the main isles. To our fate.

The sloop skidded over the sand bank less than a clock toll after leaving the newest isle. An isle now impossible to see through stormy shadows.

“Ari, how much are you aiding Kase?” I asked, taking his hand as I stepped off the boat.

“A bit,” he told me. “It’s hardly taxing, and I mean it. Normally illusions wear on me, but it’s not so burdensome.”

I traced the outline of the wing of his tattoo. “Because the land is assisting you too.”

“Are you ready, sweet menace?”

“Yes. I’m ready to live in peace with you. No more looking over our shoulders. I’m ready to have my life with the one who has my heart.”

“Woman.” Ari groaned and kissed me, hard. “You can’t say that, then expect me to leave you.”

“Well, you need to.” Calista said in a huff. She’d returned to her sharp tongue, but after catching a glimpse at her vulnerability, it was easy to spot it beneath the bite. “We’re running out of time before the meet deadline is up.”

Ari brushed hair off my brow with his rough palm and cupped my cheek. “You are a queen, Saga. Do not let him forget it.”

“I love you,” I said.

Ari pulled me against his chest, lips against my ear. “Save those sweet words for later, in bed, when this is behind us. Give me something to look forward to, keep up the motivation.”

“I figured living would be motivation enough.”

“Nothing is more inspiring than that mouth of yours.” He kissed the side of my neck and stepped back at the same moment the gates to the blood court opened.

Hundreds of blood fae marched out in an organized unit, donned head to toe in black hoods and cowls, leather masks, and black mail. Some gripped spears, others, axes. Most carried two swords. Bjorn, Gorm, and Cuyler led them forward, wrapped in fiery red mantles as a mark of their court.

The blood lord bowed his head. “We’re ready.”

Together, Ari and I stepped in front of the rows of blood fae. Ari kissed the back of my hand and positioned me in the front, an encouraging smile on his face.

My insides tightened into coils of tangled thorns. Sweat slicked my palms, and my tongue stuck to the dry roof of my mouth. Ari kept a hand on the small of my back, as though he knew the torment inside. He stood stalwart and steady, my anchor in a storm.

“There are no titles between us in this moment.” From the corner of my eye, Cuyler gripped Gorm’s shoulder. I almost laughed. No doubt the blood lord had started one of his corrections to remind me, in fact, there were many titles between the lot of us. Gorm stayed silent, and I tried to hurry on.

“Today, I am but a fae of the isles who plans to take her home back, who plans to fight for her lost people.” My voice lifted over a rumble of throaty barks and shouts from the warriors. Fire lit in my chest. A sense of rightness, that at last, I was in the place I needed to be. “Do the same, and your names will be etched in the soil of this land, never forgotten no matter what happens today. The Court of Blood will be remembered as the court that stood against adversity and saved this land from darkness.”

Hisses and shrieks and shouts rose over the blood fae warriors. Frightening, intimidating, some even otherworldly. The blood fae were many things, but no one could question their honor. No one, after this day, would question their loyalty to their home and their people.

When I moved aside, Bjorn took my place, shouting the final commands. He reminded the warriors of their duty to the rightful crown and to give their lives protecting it should they be asked.

“You are a vision,” Ari said against my lips. “My Queen.”

My heart skipped. The title off Ari’s tongue struck differently than the others. He was a man loyal to his kingdom and would never use the term unless his devotion was given wholly elsewhere.

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