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There was a coughing sound, and Hadeon pulled himself upright, wincing. “It appears the shadow fae are still holding a grudge.”

By the look of him, the shadow fae must have knocked him around while Arabella had been passed out. Bruises pepperedhis jawline and cheeks, and one of his eyes was nearly swollen shut. He also had a split lip.

Jessamine sniffed, sparing a glare at the prince. “If you’d been stuck in an underrealm, I imagine you’d be bitter about it, too.”

Arabella frowned.

The fae could live hundreds or even thousands of years. So, some of the fae here might have been the very same who’d fought in the fae wars a few centuries ago. That was assuming, of course, that time moved the same here as it did in the fae or mortal realms. Maybe these fae were descendants of those who’d sought refuge in this underrealm.

One brow raised, Hadeon’s gaze fixed on Jessamine. “Perhaps I’d be forgiving of my tardiness on account of sheer boredom. I can’t imagine they receive many guests here.”

Jessamine rolled her eyes before turning from him and scooting toward the wall where a stone jutted out. Eyes swiveling between the cave’s opening and the stone behind her, she moved her bonds against it, pressing back and forth with slow movements.

“Thank you,” Arabella said, turning to Hadeon. “For what you did with the zaol.”

He raised a brow, his eyes glittering with mischief. “Are you offering me another favor, Enchantress?”

“Fuck off,” she said flatly. “But since you mentioned it, I just saved you from your would-be assailant. So, let’s call it even for today.”

“I also saved his sorry ass,” Jessamine said, not taking her eyes from the cave’s entrance. “Don’t let the princeling act like he did all the work with the greater demon.”

“Speaking of which,” he said as he turned toward her. “You have quite a knack for being in places a moment before you’re needed.”

Jessamine’s eyes snapped up, sharper than the stone. But then the look faded as quickly as it appeared, and she returned to her bonds. “I’m good at what I do, Princeling. It’s my job.”

“Indeed,” he said noncommittally.

Footsteps sounded at the cave’s entrance, and Jessamine froze.

“It’s been quite some time, Prince Hadeon.”

The voice was as cool as the stones beneath Arabella’s palms and laced with the power of a slumbering dragon. Something in the room shifted, and it took her a moment to realize the shadows had moved. For once, it wasn’t toward her but away—toward the newcomer.

Looking up, her eyes fell upon a male with skin the color of the light side of the moon. He appeared to be in his early thirties. While he wasn’t as tall as Hadeon or Elias, he had broad shoulders and thick muscles across his entire body. Like the fae warrior who’d fled earlier—and now stood behind him—his clothing was worn, but his leather armor was polished and sturdy. His pale face was clean, and his long brown hair was braided back—not unlike Arabella’s braid. Only, the sides of his head were shaved from his ear to his temples, and there were smaller braids throughout the rest of his hair.

However, unlike the other warriors, he’d lowered the mask over his face, which hung around his neck.

His gaze wasn’t fixed on her. Instead, his eyes fastened on Hadeon, who lounged casually against the cave wall—as though he’d asked to be bound hand and foot.

Arabella noted the rich brown color and shape of the newcomer’s eyes, his high cheekbones, and his long limbs that were somewhat similar to her own.

“Prince Arden,” Hadeon said. “It’s been too long.”

“Last I saw you, you’d dismissed my theories about this place,” Arden rumbled, and something flickered in his eyes. Itwas like the embers of a fire before it set fully aflame. “You and so many others mocked me, acted like you were amusing me. But I wasright.”

“It would appear so,” Hadeon said. “I never doubted your belief.”

“But you doubted this place could be a reality,” Arden said.

Hadeon merely shrugged.

“Then you left me and the shadow fae to die on that field,” Arden continued, the embers in his gaze seeming to take on more heat. “You knew your mother intended to kill all members of my court over some deluded belief that the shadow fae would wipe out the other courts, and you saidnothingduring our final meeting. I should kill you for that.” He gestured to the shadow fae warriors behind him—all masked, all with hate in their eyes. “My warriors are eager for your blood. For revenge for what your mother did to us. How she forced us here.”

It was then Arabella realized that, even all these centuries later, the warriors who’d fought in the fae wars were very much alive. They weren’t descendants after all.

“Did you ever considerhowyou learned about my mother’s attack before her army arrived? How you had just enough time to decide where to take your final stand?” Hadeon asked in a bored tone. “One of your spies happened upon one of the queen’s scouts, did they not?”

Brows furrowing, Arden seemed uncertain for the first time.