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“That’s always good to know, because it flies like it’s drunk.”

“Their center of balance causes them to bobble because their wings are so delicate. They struggle to remain airborne. Dragons in this realm are more often found scurrying in the underbrush than dodging townsfolk. Come, my love. There’s a talented seamstress a few stores up who creates beautiful vests and doublets.”

“Well, then”—he angled his arm for her to take—“lead the way, little bird.”

They’d made it past two storefronts when a cloaked figure stumbled down the narrow path between buildings, clenching her midsection and groaning. Bryce slowed, fixated on the unusual behavior of the woman as she leaned against the side of one store and dropped her head back—

“Shit,” he snapped, immediately recognizing the auburn curls and the pain-twisted expression on a face he’d watched linger on the very precipice of death only the night before.

“What is it?” Rihanna asked, coming up short as he backtracked. She clung to his arm, resisting his change in direction. How could she not be worried about Moira venturing into the village alone? Where the fuck was Shaye? “Bryce, why are you—”

“You should be in bed,” Bryce scolded, approaching an agonized Moira. “How did you get here?”

Rihanna’s fingers dug into his arm. A shock of magic drew him up short of the small gate between the stores. He shot her a startled look, but the confusion in her expression made his stomach churn.

“Who are you speaking to?” she asked quietly, her gaze tentatively following in the direction he’d been pulling her. “Ghra?”

Bryce jerked his gaze back toward Moira. She remained,shoulders curled over, arms hugging her belly, eyes sparkling with pain and fear.

“You…you don’t see Moira?” he whispered as the cloaked woman stretched a hand out to him.

“Help me, Bryce,” Moira whimpered.

He never saw the blur of movement until Horano wrenched his arm, spinning him away from Moira, and gathered Rihanna in his other arm. Horano’s eyes blazed with frustration right before his words filled Bryce’s veins with ice.

“That’s not Moira.”

31

Astrange mist clung to the land, a ghostly veil that crawled over the grass and crept up the mountain. The air turned heavy, moist, a sign of impending rain but without clouds to drop a shower.

Shaye paused on the open walkway and peered out across the rolling hills that led to the bridge that spanned a wider portion of the river before meeting the thick foliage of the forest. Aye, even the forest’s shadows looked ominous.

His world. His realm. His people.

His bones thrummed with the energy of the land, the unease and apprehension. The spirits that helped the Talaenian Fae thrive and prosper recognized a force tainting this pure world.

“You sense it, too,” Liam said quietly, standing beside Shaye as he took in the same sight with the same reaction. “There’s great turmoil in Faery. I fear we’re approaching dark times.”

“You wished to share disturbing news with me today.”

Shaye shook off the chill that caressed the nape of his neck. He stepped away from the balustrade, a sudden urge tofind safety within a room causing him to resume their trek to one of the libraries. He closed the door behind Liam and motioned for the High Fae to take a seat in front of the ever-burning fire.

“What’s happening, Liam?”

Liam sat straight-backed in the chair, hands folded in his lap. His expression was a mask of stoicism, his eyes unblinking. The only sign of discontent came with a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“I sent a guard to Dagda’s chambers after he failed to respond to two of my inquiries after our announcement this morn. My guard has not returned,” Liam said, sending a chill slithering down Shaye’s spine. “We can’t return to Court. If she’s returned to the palace, the danger shall be too great to risk.”

“Dagda is a true immortal. He can’t be killed.”

Though Shaye said words he knew to be true, something in Liam’s deceptively calm tone warned him that Dagda’s silence was far more worrisome.

“No world is without a means of balance. One cannot possess the power that Dagda has without a means of controlling that power should he abuse it. For those true immortals throughout realms, objects exist to provide a means of balancing powers.”

Liam looked at Shaye, the turn of his head robotic and slow in nature. Eerie. Prophetic.

He didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed, nor the sudden weight that sank in his stomach.