AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A kind smile lifts her cheeks, and my heart clenches as I wonder how many times I was the recipient of that same smile. “I may be an Evermore, dear, but I cannot take offense to the truth.” She taps a long, slender finger against her ear lobe, drawing attention to the gold capping the sharp points—the only jewelry she wears. “After the Lightmare, when the Untouched Zone was just beginning to allow my kind to enter, I was told purchasing land here was a fool’s folly. My husband, the king and man who openly murdered my only child, forbade me. The Unseelie Courts mocked me.”
My heart skips a beat at the mention of my death. “And yet,” she continues, “despite the risks, the imprisonments and attacks I endured, the attempts on my life by my own husband, I now own more land, businesses, and real estate in your world than any other Evermore. And do you know what that gives me?”
I do know. It’s the one thing every Fae in existence thirsts for. “Power.”
“Yes. With the darkling attacks affecting more and more cities, I now possess the keys to every court’s safety, and no one, not even my husband, can intimidate me.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because my firm needs mortals like yourself. Mortals unafraid to stand up to the Fae who still believe in the old ways of doing things. The Fae who believe your kind are nothing more than animals to serve them.”
Her speech drags my emotions from earlier to the surface, and I struggle to my feet before she can see my distress. “Thank you for the water and the advice, Queen.”
“Don’t thank me, Summer. That implies you owe me, and you do not.”
“My mistake,” I mutter. Stupid Faerie law.
Right before I exit her office, my gaze snags on the exquisite oil painting above her desk, housed in a modern silver frame. The same delicate star-shaped white flower on Hellebore’s arm—the one he’s weirdly obsessed with—is painted against a black backdrop.
A fat bead of blood drips from one of its slender petals.
“Do you like it?” my quasi-mother asks. “The flower is called a Bloodstar. One drop could fell an entire Fae army. A queen from my line once even demanded her husband buy the rare, expensive flower and have a perfume made from it.” She waves her hand, and the centaur waiting behind her perks up, ready to get back to business. “Now go. And don’t disappoint me, Summer. I expect to see your name on that list the next time I check.”
I murmur something as I leave, my mind reeling.
Bloodstar. She called the flower a Bloodstar.
Where have I heard that name?
Bloodstar. Bloodstar. Bloodst—
Oberon’s beard, I have it. That’s the flower Evelyn mentioned. I sag against the wall outside the queen’s door.
When asked who was controlling her, Evelyn couldn’t say a name. At least, not an Evemore’s name. Instead she named a flower, the Bloodstar. The very same flower Hellebore is obsessed with. The one only he owns. The one he prizes above all things.
It doesn’t take a genius to make the connection.
Prince Hellebore is her master. He’s working for the Darken. He sent the darklings to steal the piece of the Worldslayer. Evelyn couldn’t say his name, so instead she managed to speak the name of the flower he wears on his body.
She must see it every time he gives her an order.
Holy Fae, I’ve found something that can hurt him.
I turn the corner just as the class is gathering across the hall. Hellebore and I lock eyes.
He dons that arrogant, asshole-and-proud smile that deserves to be punched from existence. The one that screams, You can’t touch me.
I return his smile with one of my own.
I know your secret now, dickwad, and I’m going to use it to take you down.
34
“Stop fidgeting,” Mack whispers as we stroll through the tables full of Winter Court diners toward the Sylverfrost’s private dining room.
“This dress hates me,” I hiss, tugging the velvet hem down as low as it will go—which is shockingly not a great length.
Or not shocking, considering Valerian picked it out.
