Page 93

All I see is golden hair, tan skin, and eyes the clear blue color of Caribbean waters.

My flute of champagne slips from my hand, shattering against the ground.

It breaks whatever spell was cast over the room. Fairies turn from the fae king to stare at me, their frowns deepening when they realize it’s the human, the one who shouldn’t be here, who’s causing the commotion.

I’m too distracted to care, my gaze pinned to the fairy.

The King of Day.

I begin to shake, my mind screaming, screaming.

Des moves his hand, and under his magic, the glass pieces itself back together, the champagne refilling into the cup. Surreptitiously, he looks between me and the man who was, only seconds ago, glowing like the sun.

“He took me,” I whisper. “He was the one who took me. From your house. He took me to Karnon.”

The person who delivered me to my attacker, the person who could very well be the Thief of Souls himself, is another fae king.

I feel more than a little nauseous.

Des’s gaze is on me for a hot second, and then, in the blink of an eye, Des disappears, both champagne flutes he held a second ago falling once more to the ground. They shatter, glass and bubbly wine soaking the floor and the hem of my dress.

Des reappears in front of Janus, the air around my mate cloaked in shadow, his talon-tipped wings splayed out. Shadows billow about the room, beginning in the far corners and creeping between fairies’ legs like some sinister dark fog.

The room is still silent, still frozen, when Des grabs the King of Day by the collar and cocks his arm back. His fist slams into Janus’s face with a meaty smack, the sound reverberating.

Whatever strange reverie overtook the room, that single action breaks the spell. The hall erupts into shouts, and people begin to move.

Des’s arm is like a sledgehammer, pummeling the Day King over and over. Janus’s uniformed soldiers close in on Des, while Night Kingdom soldiers run into the fray.

Before I know it, soldiers have turned on soldiers, guests on guests. The room is suddenly in an uproar as fairies fight each other. The Fauna fae are pointing to me, and several of them begin to weave through the crowd, heading in my direction.

Aw, shit, I almost forgot the little vendetta the Fauna Kingdom has out for me and the Bargainer.

A little distance away, Malaki, Temper, and several Night Kingdom soldiers are now trying to shove their way toward me.

In all directions, wings unfurl, each more beautiful than the last. They shimmer in all sorts of colors, and it would be breathtaking if it didn’t mean hundreds of fairies were losing their shit.

The cavernous room no longer feels quite so large, and oh, am I developing a massive case of claustrophobia.

I did this. I set Des off. And even though the cruel, vicious part of me savors his retribution, the rest of me is horrified that I set these events in motion.

I push my way through the crowd, determined to get to the two kings.

If anyone is going to have their vengeance, it will be me, my siren purrs.

Fairies are taking to the air, ripping at each other. Meanwhile, Des and the King of Day are still tussling, one bright as the sun, the other dark as the night.

The Fauna fairies are almost to me, and the Night guards coming for me are still too far away to offer me any sort of protection. I’ll have to take these fairies on my own. The thought sends a shiver of delight down my spine, and I smile.

My nails are on the brink of sharpening when Mara’s voice cuts through the noise. “There will be no death in my house!”

All but Des and Janus, the King of Day, pause, no one willing to cross the queen hosting them.

The Bargainer doesn’t appear to give a flying fuck what Mara thinks. He has the King of Day pinned beneath him, and he keeps hammering into the man’s face.

“Desmond Flynn, King of the Night, by law of my kingdom, I order you to stop,” Mara’s voice booms.

Arm pulled back, Des hesitates, his breathing heavy and ragged. His hair, which he’d previously worn combed away from his face, now hangs in wild tendrils. I’ve seen my mate when he’s all coiled rage, but I have only rarely seen him like this: messy with his anger. There’s something so very…rawabout it.