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I don’t breathe for several seconds.

The first ludicrous thought I have is that Des once had siblings.

The second is that they’re all ghosts now. Every one of them. All because of his father.

I can’t wrap my mind around that. It’s too cruel, too evil, too unconscionable.

“Why?” I finally ask. My question seems to echo in the quiet of the room.

I don’t expect an answer, not just because Des isn’t forthcoming with them but also because I’ve found as a PI that the most twisted cases hardly ever have an explanation. Sometimes people do atrocious things just because they can.

The Bargainer’s hand slides from my hair, down my arm.

“Some prophecy he received forewarned him that his legacy would lead to his downfall.”

It sounds like a Greek drama.

“I don’t know if he ever cared about his children, but if he did, he cared about his power more.”

Now I understand why, as frightening as the casket children are and as soulless as they seem, Des won’t harm them.

No child deserves to be slaughtered because of their bloodline.

“My mother was a favorite concubine of his. When she found out she was pregnant, she fled the palace. Eventually, she ended up in Arestys. I didn’t know it until later, but throughout my entire childhood, we were living in hiding.”

I wondered how Des could’ve come from the royal harem and still have led the life he did.

Now I know.

My wicked king. He wouldn’t have existed if his mother hadn’t done what she did.

Trying to imagine a world without Desmond Flynn is even harder to fathom than a world in which a father kills off all his heirs.

What would life be like if there were no Bargainer to save me from my past, no Des to comfort me in the night, no mate to stake his claim after seven long years of waiting?

Just the thought hurts.

I stroke my fingers down his skin.It didn’t happen.The man beneath me is more than dreams and wishes. He’s flesh and blood, skin and bone, muscle and magic.

And he’s mine.

“Did it come true?” I ask. “The prophecy?”

For several seconds, all I hear is Des’s breathing. Eventually, he lifts his hand, and the fairy lights above us wink out.

“That’s enough sharing for one evening,” he says.

In the darkness, I’m left to my own thoughts. And I can’t help but wonder—

What is Des still keeping from me?

Chapter 29

The sounds of clinking silverware echo in Mara’s private breakfast nook.

“Well, last night was more than a little thrilling,” Mara says, breaking the silence.

The three fae rulers, I, and the Green Man all are seated around a table, enjoying an awkward-as-fuck breakfast.