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“Yes, we discovered that rather quickly.”

Ari’s eyes widened. “Are Elise and—”

“They’re here. Well, nothereanymore, but somewhere close.” Halvar gave a quick explanation of their arrival and Gunnar’s situation.

Ari went pale at the news of the prince’s injury and the loss of Eryka. I braced a palm on his back when he seemed a tad unsteady. Gorm entered with two healers and Cuyler. Rune joined with Bo. The tracker seemed to follow merely because Rune was there.

Bo lifted his eyes once, and he caught Ari’s glare. He tried to turn away.

“Look at me,” Ari snapped. He tugged me fully behind his body. “You come as close as you did to getting my wife killed, and I swear to you I’ll spend weeks sending you to the Otherworld.”

Halvar chuckled and murmured something to Niklas about the true Ari being revealed through his glibness and taunts.

“Ari,” I said. “What’s done is done.” I lowered my tone for only him. “He’s only just recovered and is battling with his own self-hatred.”

With a tight jaw, he turned his back on Bo. The tracker stepped to the corner. He didn’t leave. No one would fault him for it, but Bo remained like he sought the rage of others as punishment.

Ari sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his brow. “My head is spinning.”

“Disorientation is common after waking,” Gorm said.

“Ah, dearest Lord Gorm,” Ari said, smiling. “I’ve missed your sentiments the most.”

“I doubt my voice was missed over the queen’s.”

“It was a close call.”

The blood lord’s lips twitched, and I thought he might be fighting a grin.

Calista slid off the bed, silent, her shoulders hunched under her ears. It was rare to see the storyteller out of sorts, but she appeared ready to flee.

“Calista, wait.” I held out the wrinkled parchment with the wicked tale. “We won’t be needing it.”

She scratched her cheek, then shuffled over to us and ripped the parchment out of my hands. With a nod to Ari, Calista went on, “Good to have you back, Golden King.”

Ari stiffened. “That name, how do you know it?”

“Came to me one day.”

“Wraith.” Again, Ari rubbed his head. “That was what he called me.”

“Who’s Wraith?” I sat beside him.

“It’s clearer now.” Ari slipped his fingers into mine. “Wraith was the one with me.”

The presence Calista wrote about, perhaps? Wraith would be a fitting title for a spectral to travel through a fae sleep.

“He came from a fate tale Calista wrote,” I told him. “She conjured him, so it would make sense he used the same names.”

“I think it is more, but . . .” Ari paused, and the perfect, sly smirk I’d missed terribly spread over his mouth. “No. You’re probably right. Nothing to overthink.” He offered Calista a slight bow of his chin. “Many thanks for your timely assistance. I learned a great deal, and found my way out because of you.”

Calista gave no witty response. Notably shaken, she gathered her quill and parchment and shuffled for the door. Blood from the scratches left behind after Sofia’s attack dripped down her pale cheek. “Call us square. You chatted me through the fear of being snatched by sea fae, so I gave you guidance during a fae sleep.”

Ari snorted. “One of those things does not hold the same weight as the other.”

She waved him away and squeezed between her brother and Niklas in the packed doorframe. “I was really scared of those bleeding sea fae. We’re square. Now, maybe we all ought to stop gawking and give these two time. Alone.”

The storyteller pointed a finger into Gorm’s chest.

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