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I put my hands up in protest. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—”

Magic settles over me for the second time today, and I know without checking that the Bargainer took another bead.

“The time for hiding is over.”

Chapter 3

I crack my knuckles nervously as Des leads me down the halls of his palace, his hand on my lower back. The ceilings arch overhead, fitted with painted tiles, and starbursts of light sparkle from the sconces lining the walls.

The simple bronze circlet Des wears as a crown currently adorns his head, and his war bands are now visible on his upper arm, the three cuffs proof of his valor in war. Like me, he wears training leathers, and I try not to stare too hard at just how good he looks in them.

Instead, I glance over my shoulder at Des’s wings. He hasn’t put them away all day. In fact, ever since he retrieved me from Karnon’s throne room, they’ve almost constantly been present. Over a week ago, Temper told me male fairies like to display their wings around their mates.

He catches me staring at them, and his eyes shine.

Just that look triggers all sorts of inappropriate responses, and I have to remind myself that this guy forced my cowardly heart to face not one but two unpleasant challenges today: training and now this.

Ahead of us, Malaki and a team of royal aides and black-clad guards stand in front of an innocuous door, clearly waiting for us.

“What’s the situation?” Des asks when we make it to the group.

“The last of the Fauna leaders sent a messenger,” one of the aides says. “He refuses to give his message to anyone but you.”

Just hearing a mention of the Fauna fae has my blood running cold. I know it’s unfair to judge an entire group of fae based on their twisted leader’s actions, but the truth is, I didn’t just suffer at the hands of Karnon. Every Fauna fae who dragged me to and from their king, every one of them who walked by my cell and didn’t stop to help, every one of them who aided the madman—they are all to blame.

“Very well,” the Bargainer says next to me, his voice just as silky as it ever is, “let’s meet the messenger.”

I begin to retreat because I’m really not ready to face a Fauna fae right now, but Des’s firm hand on my back holds me in place.

One of the fairies slips through the door, and he announces Des, and then, much to my growing horror, my name is announced as well.

I’m not sure Des means to, but his wings flare out and curve around me for several seconds before they fold back up.

I feel more than a little ill as the two of us file into the throne room.

If I weren’t so distracted by my emotions, I could probably feel awed by the room itself. The ceiling that arches above us is enchanted to look like the night sky. The chamber is lit by two grand bronze chandeliers and several wall sconces, light glowing from each of them. The pale stone walls are intricately carved, and tiny bits of colorful tile cover most of them, making the room look like one grand mosaic.

Des’s throne room is currently filled with dozens and dozens of fairies who line the walls or peer down from a balcony on the upper level. As soon as they see us, they begin clapping, the sound setting me further on edge. My wings hike up with my nerves, so I breathe deeply to calm myself.

Des’s throne is made of hammered bronze and fitted with cushions of deep blue velvet. Next to it, someone’s brought out a smaller seat made of the same materials.

My seat, I realize with a start.

Mechanically, I take it, my wings arching over the back.

This room is a far cry from the Fauna King’s throne room, and yet staring down the long expanse of it still brings back unwanted memories. Not to mention that this one is filled with an audience.

Only once Des and I settle does the applause cease. In the silence that follows, one of the fairies in attendance steps in front of the throne, bowing deeply.

The fairy essentially repeats what we already heard. “My king, a Fauna messenger is here to see you.”

“Bring them in,” Des says, his voice booming.

I slide a glance over to my mate. Back in high school, I used to imagine all the lives he must’ve lived when he wasn’t around me, but I never pictured this. Even after I knew he was a king, it was just too hard to envision the wily Bargainer as some benevolent ruler. But right now, he wears the role like a second skin.

A strange combination of awe and fear washes through me. Awe that for the first time in eight long years, I’m being let into Des’s world. He’s showing me things about himself that I’vebeggedhim to share in the past.

But then there’s the fear that accompanies the wonder. The one truly concrete thing I know about my mate is that he’s a man made of secrets. And perhaps for the first time, I’m having a certain amount of trepidation when it comes to exactly what those secrets are.