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And now he stood here—calm, composed, expectant. Like he deserved civility.

She had none left for him.

Taly tilted her chin up, meeting his gaze. “Vaughn’s dead,” she said lowly. “I killed him.”

She wanted him to know.

But Aneirin barely blinked. “Oh, yes,” he said, voice smooth as silk. “I figured that once the poor bastard failed to check in.”

“That’s it?” Taly’s voice rose, a question and an accusation all in one. “He worked for you, followed your orders. Don’t you care at all?”

“Care?” he echoed, like it was a joke he didn’t get. “My dear, if I cared for every fool who sacrificed himself on my behalf, I’d have nothing left to give. And besides, I sent him to you as a gift.”

Taly blinked. “A gift?”

“Yes. Don’t get me wrong. I was hoping he would succeed this time and manage to deliver you to me unharmed and unsullied. But, barring that, I wanted you to have the kill. Theman tried to assault you in the worst way. I do not pride myself on being good by any means, but even I do not condonerape. I’m sure it was… cathartic.”

He smiled at her, a disarmingly affable grin. The problem was, his eyes didn’t match—the warmth there felt calculated, like a cat toying with a mouse before the final pounce, pleasant on the surface yet undeniably menacing.

“We don’t have to be enemies.”

Somehow, Taly doubted that.

“Indeed, I would prefer to do this peacefully if possible.” He reclaimed his seat, unbuttoning his suit jacket with a practiced hand. “My attention is already stretched thin as it is, and I find that loyalty is often most effectively inspired by mutual self-interest. I’m here to make a deal. To negotiate, so that we may leave as friends.”

He gestured to the chair across from him. The one she’d woken up in. The collar still lay where it had fallen.

Dream or not, the memory of it still pressed against her throat. Cold. Unrelenting. What had even been the point of it? Just to mess with her? To twist the knife a little deeper? A reminder that she wasn’t in control of a single thing here—not the walls closing in, not the darkness creeping closer, not even her own pain.

Taly’s eyes flicked to Luck, who smirked.Baskingin the spine-stiffening discomfort as the truth settled in.

This wasn’t her dream. It was someone else’s construction. Her body was a world away, and she was cut off from it.

She was trapped.

Stuck in yet another cage.

So, Taly holstered her pistol.

She crossed the room, each slow step echoing off the marble. She kept her chin high.

She’d been here before. Stuck in that relentless loop, the same day repeating over and over. This was nothing compared to that.

Luck was nothing compared to the Queen. Too reckless, too impatient—a piss-poor jailer. She’d learned to fear better ones.

The chair scraped obnoxiously against the floor as Taly pulled it out. She dropped into it with careless grace. An ease she didn’t feel.

His face was beautiful in that way that all Fey were beautiful, but the eyes—the eyes were the worst part. Clear, startling, too knowing. But within them, something lurked. An ancient, hateful spark that sent a shiver down her spine.

She didn’t know if it was his true face. This was a dream. Truth was slippery.

But that spark? That was real.

She met it head-on, leveling her gaze at his over the finely laid table.

“Well, you went through all that trouble to find me,” she said. Her voice was steady. Flat. “This better be good.”

The forest stretched endlessly, a quiet sprawl of emerald canopies and shadow-dappled ground. A cliffside jutted out, noble and unmoving.