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I took a step forward, emphasizing how I towered over her when both our feet were on the ground. “We need a guide.”
Taliya didn’t flinch—she shook her head sharply. “I will not send faeries to their deaths.”
“If I ask, they will come. Some of them, at least.”
Taliya’s face transformed, her long blue claws splaying wide.
A wild, feral beast. Beautiful, magical, but dangerous nonetheless.
“The Faeries of the Fen have survived for seven thousand years by avoiding risks, not seeking them out,” she snarled, her wings flapping again. She lifted a few feet into the air. Without really meaning to, I guessed.
But before I could argue or order, Arran was at my side. Stepping into the space. Face to face with the faerie, even as she hovered several feet above the ground.
His voice was dark and cold—every bit the warrior of death I’d fallen in love with. “The succubus will come for you too, eventually.”
Taliya jutted her sharp chin upward. “What do you know of it, Brutal Prince?”
Arran ignored her irreverence. Her blatant snub—he was the High King of Annwyn now. But titles didn’t matter to him, a terrestrial. He’d earned the title she used—and when he leveled her that black glare, I was reminded of why.
“I know that I have stood on hundreds of battlefields and faced foes that would make most fae shit themselves with fear. The succubus are something different. They are a few now. If we can stop them before they take over the human realm, before they bleed into Annwyn… then perhaps the worst of the devastation can be avoided. But if we fail… eventually, the jungle you’ve made above your heads will not be enough.”
Taliya’s wings quivered, her voice a little desperate as she said, “We have the amorite.”
“That will stop succubus from possessing your male’s minds. It will not stop them from ripping your bodies apart limb by limb.” His black eyes flicked over her shoulders, the timbre of his voice merciless. “Wing by wing.”
She dropped to the ground. She looked at Arran, not me. Fine. I didn’t care who she listened to, so long as she listened.
“I will not force anyone to go. But if there are volunteers, I will not stop them from guiding you to Avalon.”
“Thank you.” Arran inclined his head. Actually inclined his head. I nearly fell over.
He turned to leave, satisfied.
But I wasn’t done.
Taliya was already flitting overhead again. I didn’t try to follow her with my eyes. I just spoke loud, clear, channeling all the queenliness I didn’t feel.
“Will the Faeries of the Fen answer, if Annwyn calls for aid?” I asked.
“No.”
Arran exhaled. I didn’t.
The flutter of Taliya’s wings filled the space, but I could hear her well enough over it as she spoke. “You are not poisoned by the prejudices of your ancestors, Majesties. I have seen that well enough. It is why we have allowed you to linger here. But no. My first allegiance is the faeries.”
I threw my hands up in frustration. So much fur queenliness. “We are all faeries. Fae. We are one kingdom.”
She paused, landing on a small metal perch set into the stone wall. I hadn’t noticed it before. She looked down on us, but for once, it didn’t feel like she was actually staring us down.
Her voice was resigned. Resolute. And a bit sad. “Once, that was true. But the Faeries of the Fen will not die for the elementals and terrestrials. Not again.”
I’d expected her answer. Known it.
If I walked out of that room and made an announcement in the atrium, a call to action, some of those faeries would follow me out. They saw me as their queen.
But I wasn’t just responsible for those faeries. I was responsible for all of them.
Their queen, whether they wanted me or not.
