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Eclipsa holds out her crystal glass filled with golden plum wine. “To Yule, the Winter Solstice, new beginnings”—her eyes slide to me—“and new people.”
I follow suit, my heart as full as the wine glass I hold. Looking around the room at these people—Fae and human—I know just how lucky I am to have them in my life.
After that, I fall into the banter and camaraderie as Eclipsa, Asher, and Valerian all tease each other and reminisce. Any worries that I would disrupt their tradition somehow float away as the night progresses.
And, oh, does it ever. Ruby entertains us by juggling the candied winter berries on the sweets tray and performing an adorable dance every time she eats something particularly amazing. Mack makes us laugh when she tells us the story of her dads’ water sprites, which were finally rehomed to an aquatic Faerie creatures rescue center.
I even share some of my family’s Christmas traditions, confusing everyone but Mack when I try to explain Santa.
When the main course is delivered, the waiter hands Valerian an extra plate. Eclipsa winks at me as he studies the bowl. “What’s this?”
I grin. “SpaghettiOs with meatballs, aka the poor man’s heaven in a can.”
I can’t say that the expression on his face is blissful after he takes a bite, but he doesn’t spit it out like the ramen noodles the other day, so I consider it a win.
Finally, when there’s a lull in the conversation, I make sure the room is spelled from eavesdroppers before divulging what I learned on the field trip.
When I finish explaining the link between Hellebore and Evelyn, Eclipsa sets down her wine glass, her eyes livid. “Why didn’t you tell us Evelyn mentioned the Bloodstar flower?”
“Honestly, I forgot about it when I first woke up, and then I assumed Mack had already mentioned it.”
I cringe. Way to throw your bestie under the bus.
Mack taps her fork against her plate, the food untouched. Has she eaten anything since we arrived? “There was so much going on, and I was worried for Summer.”
Eclipsa downs her wine in a single gulp and then pours another glass. She’s still raw when it comes to Hellebore.
Valerian jumps in. “Now that we do know this information, we need to find a way to expose him.”
Asher growls under his breath. “I’ve always hated that pretty-boy bastard. Exposing him would be a pleasure.”
“But why would someone from the Seelie Court work to bring the Darken back?” Mack asks, toying with the red strap of her dress. “I mean, he basically started a war to destroy the entire Seelie side of the Fae, right?” o;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?
