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Revenge.

4

ARRAN

“They all must die.”

Her exhale was barely perceptible. But my wolf-like hearing caught it even before she said, “There is such a thing as mercy.”

“After what happened to the elemental heir?”

The man on the left clasped his eyes closed, not wanting to see his final moments. The woman at his side pissed herself.

Guinevere bit her bottom lip hard, the scent of blood hitting my nostrils a second later.

“I would think that I, above all others, would be entitled to an opinion on the matter,” she said, voice lethal.

I could sense her anger. I did not need to glance down at her knuckles to know the feline claws must be slipping free. Perhaps she was right. The humans had murdered her betrothed.

All the suffering she’d endured to win the title of terrestrial heir had been rendered meaningless when King Arthur died and a terrestrial female was no longer needed to complete the Offering. She’d watched friends and relatives brutally cut down; had to deal the fatal blow herself, not just to emerge victorious, but to survive.

But she was not the only terrestrial fae whose life had been irrevocably altered by the gruesome beheading we’d only heard stories of from our stronghold on Wolf Bay.

And we were not yet in the Kingdom of the Elemental Fae. Until we crossed the Spit, we were firmly in terrestrial territory. Until the new High King and Queen of Annwyn were officially crowned, the laws of the individual territories held sway. Which meant that as the highest ranking terrestrial fae present, the decision of what to do with the prisoners we’d caught lurking in the Shadow Wood lay with me.

“They must die,” I said again, though this time my voice was softer. An invitation to my companion to express her thoughts.

“They have broken the human-fae treaty, so by rights you are entitled,” Gwen agreed. She was attempting to control her emotions. “But we do not know why they have come to Annwyn, nor through which rift. This information could be valuable.”

She wasn’t wrong. But humans were a waste of time, they always had been. “We do not have the time to delay in questioning them.”

Gwen’s gold eyes glinted, the only hint of the wild cat hidden within her brown-skinned beauty. “I can make quick work of it.”

That was my decision made.

She wanted to torture them—to use these three humans, most likely marketeers looking to collect fae goods to sell in the human markets—to relieve some of the anger simmering in her veins.

If I let her, she’d hate herself later. Unlike me, my friend was still good. Beneath her anger and her rage at the future the humans had stolen from her, she was kind and honorable. This sort of torture was my specialty. My soul was already heavily stained.

Gwen was panting now. The need and excitement flowed through her strongly enough even the silent human was cowering on the ground.

On my next inhale, I drew the battle axe from my belt. As I exhaled, I swung it forward in one precise motion.

Three human heads hit the ground. A second later, their bodies followed.

Gwen shifted so quickly, the humans would have missed it.

The raven-haired beauty who’d stood beside me a moment before was replaced by a lion nearly twice the usual size, thick black mane wild in the wind and brown fur glistening in the sunspots that filtered through the canopy of leaves overhead.

She threw that massive head back and loosed a roar so loud, I had no doubt they’d hear it on the other end of the Spit at Skywatch. Then she turned and bounded away through the trees.

“Should we send one of the winged sentries after her?” Osheen asked, appearing silently at my shoulder.

I shook my head. “She will find us again when she is ready. Hopefully, before we reach the goldstone gates of Baylaur.”

5

VEYKA