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“Get out of my way, Gwen.” This time it was me who growled, not the beast.
She didn’t move. “You and Veyka are mates,” she said slowly, her eyes returning to their normal size, but that calculating keenness entering them. “There hasn’t been a mated pair of fae in thousands of years.”
“I don’t have time for a history lesson.” I stepped forward, ready to shove her aside.
The lioness flashed in her eyes. Not enough to stop me, but to slow me.
“I have to find her, Gwen.” It was the closest thing to an entreaty she was going to get before I forcibly removed her.
The dark skin of her brow creased. “We don’t even know where she is.”
“So we start searching.” It was simple. “You are one of her sworn Goldstone Guards. You should be at my back, not blocking the way.”
“I am also a Knight of her Round Table. Your Round Table, Your Majesty.”
The words clanged through me. Your Majesty. I was Veyka’s mate—and the High fucking King of Annwyn.
“You cannot run out of Baylaur without making provisions for the safety of your kingdom,” Gwen said, voice even.
Of course. Gwen, of all people, would think of Annwyn first.
I would have thought of Annwyn first. I’d been putting Annwyn’s wellbeing before my own for the past two hundred and some years. But not now. Everything had changed in that throne room—before that, even. When I realized my purpose in this immortal life was not to serve Annwyn, but its Queen. Even at the expense of the former.
“I will not leave Veyka unprotected.”
“Veyka is more than capable of protecting herself.”
“She has no magic.” It felt like a betrayal saying it aloud, even though I knew that Gwen and the others who Veyka had selected for the Round Table knew that truth by now.
For the first time in my entire immortal life, I saw Gwen’s eyes soften with sympathy. “We know now that is not true.”
I opened my mouth to argue—as if I hadn’t been there at Veyka’s side, had not felt the flash of power that engulfed her in the moment before she disappeared. I couldn’t explain any of it, couldn’t sort through it. Wife, mate, High Queen… it was all too much, too fast. All of it eclipsed by the simple fact that she wasgone.
But before I could shove Gwen aside, a cascade of voices pushed through the closed doors. I recognized them. From the flash in Gwen’s eyes, she did as well.
She didn’t spare me a look as she turned to the doors, opening them and meeting the waiting eyes and saying with cool command: “Round Table, now.”
5
VEYKA
I fell into a land of mist and quiet.
It was dawn in this realm, wherever it was. I’d watched enough sunrises and sunsets over the Effren Valley, alone in the water garden compound, to recognize the subtle differences in shades that marked the two. There was a stillness to dawn, as the creatures of the night slumbered and those of day had not yet awoken. But as I turned my head to the side, slowly taking in my surroundings, I was struck by the eerie feeling that no animals lived here in this clearing.
Everything around me was a lush green. Graceful willow trees—the kind I’d seen depicted in books and paintings, but never for myself—circled the clearing. I could only imagine what Arran could do with those long, elegant tendrils draping from the trees.
Arran. It had been the thought of him that carried me safely away from that realm of darkness and death. He’d saved me again. I didn’t plan on telling him about it, either. He didn’t need to add to the tally. I seemed to do well enough with that on my own.
I would get back to him, I promised myself.
Wherever I was now, wherever I went next… I would get back to him. Back to Baylaur, the city and court I’d hated, but that now held everything I cared about.
Everyone.
Ancestors, caring for others was such a painful and beautiful burn in my chest. I still was not used to it.
But I was getting alarmingly used to the way my body was being thrown against my will from realm to realm. The ember within me bobbed happily, easing now to a low, sated glow. Satisfied, as if it were a living thing.
