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Reluctantly, he drops his fist. Leaning in close to Janus, he whispers something into the King of Day’s ear, and then Des stands, his eyes moving about the crowd. They still when they land on me.

He looks like a hurricane contained in a man. He has speckles of blood on his face and a small line of it at the corner of his mouth. But it’s the leashed fury in his eyes and the deep shadows swathing the room that are the true indications of how upset he is.

The King of Day pulls himself up to his feet, giving Des a murderous look.

Mara begins to clap, and the attention suddenly swivels to her. She swaggers across the room toward the men, the crowd parting for her. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she says, “I present to you the first mate challenge.”

Mate challenge?

Everyone else in the room stirs, their assessing gazes moving between me and the men. Mara follows their lead, her eyes finding mine. She smiles at me, her lustrous lips making her look equal parts lovely and wicked. The rest of her face is flinty with anger.

“Congratulations go to the King of the Night and his siren mate,” she says. “Now, everyone, sheathe your excitement, and please, carry on as before.”

I don’t quite understand how she does it, but Mara manages to bring this place back from the edge of chaos. One by one, fairies’ wings disappear, and people smooth down their rumpled outfits. While a few dirty looks pass between the guests—several thrown my way by some disgruntled Fauna fairies—conversation and bits of laughter begin to bloom across the hall.

Des wipes the blood off his mouth, glowering at the King of Day, who glowers right back. But Mara isn’t done with them. The Queen of Flora leads the two kings away from the room and out a side door.

My heart stutters a bit at the sight. Without Des, I’m acutely aware that I’m a lamb in a den of lions.

“Get out of my way. Getoutof my way—if you step on my dress, I swear to the saints, you’re not going to have toes.” Even among the rising noise of the crowd, Temper’s voice carries over to me. “Who do I have to hex for a little room?Move!”

Malaki follows on her heels, his face set into severe lines.

“What the hell was that?” Temper says when she gets to my side, glancing back at where the two fairies tussled not a minute ago.

I shake my head, my throat working.

“Are you okay?” Malaki asks, coming to stand next to Temper.

I nod and swallow. Now that the fight’s over and the adrenaline is subsiding, it hits me—the man who took me is a fae king, and he’shere. I’m going to have to be around the King of Day for the rest of this visit. I might even have to interact with him. The thought sends a wave of nausea and nerves through me.

“I’ll say this for the Bargainer,” Temper says, “he throws a mean right hook. That pretty-boy king went down like a boner in church.”

Temper, ever the eloquent one.

“What’s a mate challenge?” I ask Malaki.

He frowns. “If a rival fairy disputes a bond, they can challenge a mate to a duel. It’s an old tradition, mostly used to either show off the worth of the mate being contended over or as an insult if an outside fairy doesn’t think one of the mates is worthy of the other. Most of the time it’s simply a way for mates—usually male ones—to work off their aggression and establish their claim.”

Have I mentioned fae traditions are weird? Because theysoare.

“Never thought I’d see you again,” a familiar voice says at my back, shaking me from my thoughts. The sound of it raises all sorts of pleasant goose bumps along my skin.

Aetherial.

I turn just in time to see the fae soldier dressed from head to toe in a buttery-gold uniform, a sun emblem emblazoned on her breast. She languished in the cell next to me when we were Karnon’s prisoners.

“Aetherial!” It’s shocking to see her in the flesh, her angular face glowing and her blond hair cropped short. I’d been blindfolded when I was escorted in and out of the cell, so I had only my imagination to go on when I talked to her. She’s taller and leaner than I imagined, her lips soft and pouty when I expected them to be thin and fierce.

Probably breaking all sorts of etiquette norms, I pull her into a hug.

Rather than edge away, she hugs me back. When she does eventually release me, it’s to take me in.

“I have to admit, cleaned up, you’re even lovelier than the few glimpses I caught of you,” she says. Her eyes move to my wings. “Though I don’t remember those. Has Des given you the wine?”

“The wine?” I furrow my brows. “No, this”—my voice catches—“this was Karnon.” I swear his ghost must be here tonight because the dead king seems to be everywhere and in everything.

“Karnon managed that?” She raises her eyebrows. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”