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ARRAN

I was ready.

Shifting had softened the rage, the hunger of the beast prowling just beneath the surface. Even if the female at the edge of the forest had gnawed open something else inside of me.

There was no more use waiting. As soon as I arrived back in camp, I sent Gwen ahead to the goldstone palace to announce our arrival. She’d grinned, taken her fierce feline form, and disappeared into the twilight.

The rest of the delegation sprang into action, packing up the tents and dousing fires. They did not question. Just as they had watched me behead the humans on the other side of the Spit, they followed my edict without hesitation. Even if my brutality had never been inflicted upon any of them, the whispers were enough to motivate even the weaker fae among us.

Moving with all the speed our fae heritage promised, we were at the edge of the city, the gates of goldstone palace visible across the strip of falsely calm sand, before full dark had descended upon the Effren Valley.

Gwen stood at the edge of the strip, a feline smirk upon her face. I did not ask how she’d crossed the notoriously dangerous expanse of sand, the home of the Gremog.

“Will we be received?”

“Tomorrow,” she said, flicking her dark braids over her shoulder.

I’d expected as much. No one allowed their foe into the keep under the cover of darkness, even when they’d been invited.

“We camp here,” I said, loud enough to reach all the fae ears in the delegation.

My eyes flicked upward. Was the female from the forest on one of the verandas above, watching us? It was too far away to make out any individuals. But somehow, I felt that if she was watching, I would know it.

But there was no burning in my gut. Only that cold flame where my heart was meant to be, fueling every decision I made—to keep the flame going, to keep the Kingdom of the Terrestrial Fae safe. Now, all of Annwyn.

If any of the delegation questioned my choice of location, so close to the realm of the legendary Gremog, none of them voiced it. They wouldn’t even dare to whisper those thoughts in the confines of their tents.

I was the Brutal Prince.

I’d faced horrors much worse than whatever lurked in the sand, guarding the goldstone palace. It was best that the elementals know exactly who was about to become their king.

* * *

The lines formed before the sun was fully in the sky. Arranged exactly as I’d drilled them during the long journey through the Shadow Wood, across the Spit, and into the lifeless hills of the Barren Dunes. I’d had three centuries to hone my skills as a battle commander, trying out various formations of flora and fauna gifted fae until I knew precisely how to balance them.

I could not have explained it to anyone. But as my eyes scanned up and down the neat columns and rows, reviewing each individual’s gifts and relative strengths, a sense of calm settled over me.

Osheen was the strongest flora gifted aside from myself, able to drag life from the most bedraggled plant and grow it into something powerful. He would guard the rear. In front of him, another flora gifted female with much weaker magic but unparalleled sword skills. To her right, a hawk shifter who could also control other birds, if only briefly. On and on it went.

There was no explicable method to it, other than the animal instincts that roared beneath my skin. I knew that if I led this unit into battle, they would fight valiantly and defeat almost any foe.

Would they fare as well in the throne rooms and gilded halls of the elemental fae? That remained to be seen. We were about to wage a battle unlike any we’d ever fought.

We stood in formation, ready to meet our new foe.

And we stood.

And we stood.

For three hours, as the sun rose above our heads and the sweat began to drip down our backs, every terrestrial fae stood in perfect form.

Not a single one of them protested. I’d instructed everyone to dress as lightly as possible. A tall order, given the proclivity for woolen knits and layered linen. This was not the Shadow Wood, with its shaded glens and icy burns. Everything about the Kingdom of the Elemental Fae was hostile—we’d learned that the moment we stepped clear of the Spit. It appeared that our welcome would be no better.

In the third hour, I began to contemplate who I would punish.

Not for me. I would stand in the heat indefinitely, the least of the tortures I’d endured in a cursed immortal life. But for my companions…