Page 33

After a moment, she realized that her bond with Elias was quieter somehow, though the tugging had increased tenfold. Her chest physically ached with the pressure, and she rubbed afist to it. She wondered if the increased distance between them changed the emotions she could feel from him. But damn—this bond did not like it when they were apart.

Slowly, she looked around the room.

Lit by the sun through a series of open windows, the space was larger than the common room at the House of Obscurities. At the center of the sitting room were a series of sofas arranged in a circle, likely for hosting guests. There was also a small table and chairs near one of the windows. At another window, there was a long bench, which she assumed was a reading nook. A glance through the open window told her that they were several stories off the ground, though she couldn’t be sure if they were in the castle of the Twilight Court or another location.

We escaped,she thought, her heart racing.

Magnus’ army had come for her, and she’d narrowly avoided falling into his clutches.

However, not all of them had escaped. Where had Hadeon gone, and why didn’t he portal with them?

“Where did the prince go?” she asked Kazimir.

The fae warrior didn’t reply as he strode to a chair large enough to hold a bear. She realized belatedly it was that size to accommodate his wings. Sweat beaded on his brow, and the sun filtering through the windows made it look like his pale skin shimmered. Like Hadeon, he was tall with massive black wings and the pointed ears of fae. But unlike the prince, a seriousness lurked in the back of his gaze—as though mirth had abandoned him long before birth.

Jessamine crossed her arms, still covered in blood from the battle, not making a move to join him.

Breckett heaved a sigh from where he stood beside Jessamine before heading toward a drink cart beyond the sofas and pouring himself a glass of what Arabella assumed was fae wine.

She marched across the room to where Kazimir sat, his eyes fixed on the far wall.

“Why didn’t Prince Hadeon teleport with us?” she pressed.

Slowly, Kazimir’s gaze shifted up, and she realized for the first time that his eyes were violet—a rare color for anyone in the mortal or fae realms. She wondered just what that meant for his heritage or magical abilities.

“He’ll be here soon enough,” he said simply. “He only travels by gateway.”

That wasn’t an explanation, and he knew it.

“What if he’s captured and taken to Magnus?” she pressed, not certain why she was so concerned for a male who held a favor over her head.

A dark fury flashed across Kazimir’s gaze. “He knew the risk.”

Vorkle cleared his throat. “Will that be all, my lord?”

“I’m not a lord.” Kazimir turned to where the goblin stood across the room. “You and the others are free to move about the estate grounds. The staff is discreet. Stay out of sight of newcomers. It’s not uncommon for the prince to receive guests from the capital.”

They weren’t in the city or castle, then.

Did that mean Hadeon had his own estate? She had assumed all the royalty lived at the palace or within the city proper. While she knew the basics of fae magic, there was so much she didn’t know about their culture and politics.

“We’ll send word if we require your services again,” Kazimir said.

Vorkle’s mouth settled into a fine line before his eyes shifted to Arabella.

They looked at each other for a long moment. There was an emotion on the goblin’s face that she couldn’t quite identify. Was it resignation? He was as dependent on the scheming fae prince as she was. Perhaps it was his version of sympathy for theirshared circumstances. Or perhaps he was just cross. Then he was gone, disappearing into the air.

She opened her mouth to speak when a voice came from behind her.

“Back so soon?”

Power bloomed at the edge of her senses, and she turned toward the figure striding toward the drink cart without pausing to acknowledge her, Jessamine, or Breckett.

Either unphased or unthreatened by them.

Like Hadeon and Kazimir, the male was breathtakingly handsome. All sharp angles and muscled confidence. But he wasn’t a fae of the Twilight Court. It wasn’t just his lack of wings that gave him away—though she’d learned not all fae from the Twilight Court had wings. As he reached past a stiff Breckett for a decanter and glass, she spotted faint webbing between the male’s fingers. His arms shimmered as though colorful scales hovered beneath his dark brown skin.

Water fae, she realized.