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His words are the very thing I need to push me over the edge.

I come at him, feeling the wild, chaotic power I was born with.Men like him die by my hand.

I swing at him, left, right, my own instincts now bolstered by my training.

He dodges the hits, his eyes brightening like Des’s so often do when he gets excited.

The fairy vanishes.

I spin just as he appears at my back, lunging at me with his knife.

Oh God, he doesn’t just look like Des, he fights like him too, disappearing and manifesting at will.

I bring up my arm, blocking the swing, and then I grab his wrist, twisting with all my strength.

He winks out of existence, but not before he releases his weapon.

I swipe it off the ground as he forms at my back. I just barely miss his fist, but I’m unable to avoid the booted kick to my back.

I grunt, sprawling across the grass. Dagger still in hand, I scramble to get back on my feet, unable to roll away because of my unwieldy wings.

Before I can, my attacker’s hand threads into my hair. He yanks my head back. With a shriek, I turn into the motion, twisting and swiping out with my stolen blade. The knife cuts through the air before slicing into my attacker’s side.

Hissing in air, he releases my hair and steps back.

I rotate to face him, my lungs heaving.

Almost in a daze, he touches his side. He stares at his bloody fingers, shocked.

Bloodlust surges in me. I rise to my feet, my wings billowing out in a show of power.

The fairy’s face morphs, turning sinister. “You cut me.”

I smile at his anger and his words.

I’ll take and take and take until this fairy is nothing but pulp and bones.

My surroundings darken.

“Cherub,” Des says, appearing at my side and dragging the darkness along with him, “what are you doing out…”

His words die away when he catches sight of my attacker. “You.”

Across from us, the fairy’s cruel mouth curves.

“Hello, my son.”

Chapter 49

Son?

But Des’s father was supposed to be…

“You died on my sword, Galleghar,” Des says. He stares at the fairy like one would a ghost. By all rights, heisa ghost.

His father—Galleghar—tilts his head. “Did I?”

My eyes dart between the two men. The similarities between them are uncanny. No wonder there were so many rumors of Des being the last person seen with the missing soldiers. His father has been haunting these woods.