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Dranian’s.

Luc left.

The wind was thick as he leapt out, appearing at Dranian’s side in the forest where the strange signs of a struggle littered the air, and… yes, just a wee, tiny spot of fairy blood was left on a flat stone.

Someone had been smacked.

Mor appeared beside Luc with Cress in his grip, but Luc hardly saw them as he stared at where Dranian was on his knees, clutching to himself a gun that had been pointed at Luc enough times for him to recognize, and a spear belonging to that sightly fairy who’d turned up out of nowhere several days ago.

Oh dear. This wasn’t good.

Luc whirled to Mor. He grabbed him, and the two of them soared back into the woods, landing on their feet in the cover of a spindly tree trunk cove.

“Let me fix this,” Luc said while Mor was still blinking back the shock, possibly still realizing what was happening. “You need me,” Luc added. “Let me fix this, Trisencor,” he said again.

Luc prided himself on his ability to jest and fool and meddle with others’ emotions. But this wasn’t that. He looked into Mor’s brown-silver eyes as serious as ever—not because he wanted this horrid opportunity with bad odds, but because this was perhaps the one thing that would give him what hereallywanted.

Mor’s vision finally cleared. His gaze narrowed on Luc.

“Let me handle things here. Go home to dear Violet. I will fix this problem.” Luc was sure he sounded like he was begging, and he bit down on his tongue after he said it.

“You don’t fix problems, Luc. You make them. You’re going to make everything worse—just stay out of this,” Mor commanded.

Luc set his jaw and grabbed Mor’s shoulder. At first, Mor blinked in surprise, until Luc flashed a broad smile. “Who’s better at finding a solution than a fox?” he asked. “I’m the cleverest fairy you’ve ever met. Give me a chance to prove it.”

A muscle shifted in Mor’s jaw. “What’s in it for you?” he asked.

“What’s in it for…” Luc shut his mouth. He tried not to bite back with a sharp comment. Then, he dropped his hand from Mor and straightened out his coat. He couldn’tbelieveit had come to this, but he said, “If I find a way to fix this, I want to be King of the High Court of the Coffee Bean.”

“What?!” Mor growled. “Shayne’s hardly gone and you’re already trying to take his place?” He pushed Luc back a step. “You can’t be a king just because you want to be, Luc! That’s not how the world works.”

Lucalmostlaughed in his face. “Trisencor, you have no idea how the world works. If you did, you’d have been able to keep your brothers and humans out of all this trouble.”

He would have also realized that Luc didn’t care one bit about being King of the stupid High Court of the Coffee Bean.

“Now,” Luc brushed a few fluffs from Mor’s chest and shoulders, “take Cressica and go home. We both know Dranian won’t leave anymore,so, Dranian and I will stay and handle this.”

A fire lived in Mor’s expression; a series of pulling muscles and tipsy frowns. Just once, Luc would have liked to hear the turmoil that went on inside Mor’s head.

Mor glanced with heavy eyes toward where they’d left Cress to deal with Dranian on the path. And by that one look, Luc knew he had him. “This isn’t about you wanting to boast of your fox gifts, is it?” Mor asked, though it was more like a statement.

So, Mor did remember.

It was a relief. Luc was beginning to assume Mor was an idiot. An idiot who didn’t recall that not long ago, Luc had promised that one day he would prove himself.

“If I don’t bring Dranian and Lily Baker home, I’ll leave the human realm like you want so badly, and I swear I’ll never return,” Luc swore. He reached out his hand, ready to bargain away his apartment, his dog, and his ice cream shop.

The moment the words left his lips, Luc’s throat constricted. His other hand brushed over his chest where his last foxtail was hidden away. He decided not to mention that he had absolutely no idea how he was going to pull this off. He’d been waiting for a miracle from the sky deities for a week while living on the cusp of extinction himself. But as usual, the sky deities didn’t care much for the fox. Not in his childling years, not now.

But Luc had always made his own luck.

Mor staredwaytoo long.

“Why does it seem like there’s a clock ticking over your head and soon you’ll explode?” It was a very random, yetveryaccurate question.

“Oh dear.” Luc considered his answer. “I just need some time to deal with a personal matter. And then I’ll get right to fixing everything,” he promised.

Mor’s jaw hardened. “Lily won’t havetime.”