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They made it to Thane and Layala’s wing and took the stairs two at a time until they reached the top, where Hel waited. Both of them froze in place until Piper shifted back half a step and moved slightly closer to him. Fury boiled and threatened to take control of him, but like Piper said, threats weren’t getting him anywhere, so he balled his fists at his sides and stared Hel down. He wished he remembered more, knew him better to understand him at this game. Thane was unmatched in battle strategy, but mischief was Hel’s arena.

“I bet you want to hurt me, don’t you?” Hel said. “You can either attack me or go to her.”

Thane didn’t even hesitate and dashed to Layala’s door and shoved through. The light filtering in from the hall illuminated her curled up on her side on top of the lavender down covers. “Laya.”

Tifapine sat on the pillow behind her, stroking her hair. “She’s fine, just asleep,” Tif said and stood up. “Who was that elf who carried her in here? At first, I thought it was you but even in the dark I could tell it wasn’t.” She gulped and tugged at the ends of her curly brown hair.

Thane stepped across the room and touched Layala’s shoulder. She still wore her battle leathers and weapons, and her hair was tied back in a single braid down her back. Soft breath escaped her, and she looked quite peaceful. “Did he say anything to you?”

“He just winked at me.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “It was dark so I can’t say for sure, but I feel like he’s not too hard on the eyes.”

“We need to find you a gnome boyfriend, so you stop pinning after dangerous elves.”

She blushed and patted her ruddy cheeks. “So, he’s dangerous? Who is he? And my, I don’t know if I’m ready for a gnome boyfriend. Gnomes are so—not elves. Find me a gnome with a six-pack and buff arms and you got a deal.”

With an eye roll, Thane turned and headed out the door, closing it gently. Piper paced alone with her arms crossed. “Is she alright?” Piper asked. Hel was nowhere in sight.

“She’s asleep and doesn’t appear to be injured. Where did he go?”

Piper sagged against the wall and pressed her hand to her forehead. “He said you owed him a bottle of wine and then disappeared. Literally vanished.”

“Stay with Layala.”

* * *

Touchingthe sword on his back for reassurance and bringing the warmth of his magic to the surface, Thane pushed down on the door handle. It swung open and Hel waited behind a desk with his boots propped up on it. A rack of the finest wine in Palenor took up the entirety of one wall. The asshole had a glass of red in hand, from the most expensive and rare in Thane’s collection. A bottle from the woodland elves from the time of the last war—the war Hel started.

“You look like a troll pissed in your morning tea.” He picked up a crystal decanter of amber liquid, pulled the cork and brought the opening to his nose. “Smells interesting.” He took a gulp and kept a straight face as if it didn’t burn.

His maroon eyes flicked back to Thane, and he dropped his boots to the floor. Then with his swirling glass of wine he stood and walked toward Thane. They were about the same height and size although Hel was slightly leaner. He brought his glass of wine to his lips and sipped. “Did you have fun with your friends in the throne room?”

“If you hurt her…”

“I didn’t.”

“Then why is she unconscious?”

“She was annoying me, so I put her to sleep,” he said. “She’s arrogant, uncontrolled, much weaker than she should be, and it puts her in danger. What in the realms have you been doing with her this entire time? Walking through the gardens and picking wildflowers?”

Far, far from it. Their entire time together was spent in tension and battle. “Icould explain in great detail some of the things we’ve done that involved her repeating my name, but I wouldn’t want to hurt your precious feelings.”

“That might sting more if you were still doing those things with her.”

“And who is she in danger from, if not you?” The pale ones were his own creatures, and if he didn’t want them to touch her, he could command it. “I may not remember everything, but I know you’re angry with her for leaving you then and not choosing you now.”

“This is fabulous wine. When I met Dalvarn of the woodland elves, he was at the height of his fame. People of every race, elves, humans, dwarves, paid ungodly amounts for a bottle of this finery.” He took another sip. “I hope you weren’t saving it for a special occasion. Dalvarn got out of the business at least three hundred years ago and his posterity doesn’t quite have the magic touch he did.”

That wine had been sitting there for hundreds of years and Thane only planned to open it the night he married Layala.

Wary of Hel’s every move, Thane watched him walk around the room inspecting the décor, the navy-blue tapestries hanging at the sides of the open windows, the crystal chandelier above the desk, the Palenor flag pinned to the wall. Bookshelves full of Palenor’s secrets and histories of this land.

Thane kept quiet, waiting for Hel to speak. Hel was trying to get a rise out of, goad him into another fight, but he wouldn’t give in this time.

Hel brushed his dark hair out of his eyes and leaned against the windowsill, the night sky a backdrop to his eerie presence. They watched each other silently, both as if the other was a serpent and waited to see who would strike first.

“We played this game a lot as children,” Hel said, breaking the silence. “It didn’t help that Synick pitted us against each other. Once, he made us fistfight for dinner after not allowing us to eat for three days. There was a single place setting and two of us.” He glanced away. “He believed that young males needed hardship and competition to grow stronger, and he wouldn’t allow fullbloods from his house to be weak.”

“I remember some of the training but not that specific night,” Thane said. His “uncle’s” methods were barbaric. He thought about the name Synick for a moment, and something occurred to him. “He wasn’t our blood uncle?”