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An idea that might actually work.

Chapter 39

“All hail theQueen of the Night.”

I stride into the throne room, Temper trailing behind me. A chorus of cheers rise up as fairies watch me file in, their gazes drawn to my glowing skin. My power still hasn’t settled down, not since yesterday. At this point, I’m not sure it ever will.

Not until I get my mate back.

I take a seat on Des’s throne, Temper stopping just off to my side. Hours ago I filled my friend in on all that I knew about the Thief and the kingdom he rules—and then I told her my idea. Now, all that’s left is executing it.

The room goes quiet, people waiting on me for further instruction.

I don’t wear a crown, and I’m not here by choice, but for once, I feel … queenly.

Too late for Des to see it.

I glance at one of the Night soldiers guarding the doors at the back of the room. “Bring the traitor in.”

The soldier ducks his head and slips out. In his wake, the silence seems to deepen.

We wait, the minutes ticking by.

All at once the double doors swing open, and two guards dressed in black escort a white-haired fairy down the aisle.

Galleghar smirks at me, clearly pleased at himself despite the situation—pleased that his last remaining child is dead.

At the sight of him, I squeeze the armrests, my claws puncturing through the velvet.

We will tear into him and make ribbons of his flesh.

The soldiers lead Des’s father to the end of the aisle.

“Release him,” I say to the guards.

Immediately they step away from Galleghar, moving to take their posts nearby.

The former king glances down at his iron cuffs, a smile twisting his mouth. “How does it feel to lose what you loved most, slave?” he asks, peering up at me.

The room sucks in a collective breath at the slur.

I watch him, tapping a claw against my armrest.

Let’s taste his flesh as he begs for mercy, my siren whispers.Bring him closer.

“All my life, I’ve never truly understood my power,” I begin. “Why must the nature of sirens be to entice men?”

Galleghar’s brows furrow. Not the response he was expecting, and he has no idea where I’m going with this.

But I do.

“I don’t understand,” he says, forced to answer because of the glamour in my voice.

Whatever wards protected him from my magic back on Barbos, they’re gone now.

We have him in our clutches.

I study him. “You will.”