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Sorin sat alone in his small office near the soldiers’ barracks at the castle. Given his rank, he was lucky enough to have a place to escape to when he needed a break from the mortal whining from time to time. There were times he would get more than frustrated with the lack of strength and skill. It wasn’t the soldiers’ faults, but as a Fae warrior who had trained and fought on battlefields for centuries, he felt like he was training the yearlings in the Fire Court who had just come of age and knew nothing of battle.

That’s not what had driven him to seek solitude this morning, though. This morning all he could think about was that godsdamned kiss. He had hardly slept last night because of that kiss. Hearing her scream that she was alone and that she protected herself had made him go half insane. He had lost complete control when he’d kissed her. He still could not figure out what had come over him, and now? Now he couldn’t get her out of his head. She had already consumed too many of his thoughts with that damn ring and her arrogance and her godsdamned scent.

There was a knock on the door that startled Sorin from his thoughts.

“What?” he barked.

The door opened and Drake leaned against the doorframe. “You cannot tell me you are already in a foul mood this morning.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Sorin muttered.

Drake chuckled under his breath. “Then I am guessing my news will surely add to your mood. My father is visiting today.” Sorin stood and followed Drake out of the office, walking down the stone hall to the meeting chambers. “He said something about wanting to discuss the next phase of training for the High Force. I am assuming you know what that means?” Drake raked his hand through his blonde hair that had fallen into his eyes. Drake didn’t question it, but Sorin could tell it rubbed him the wrong way that he wasn’t privy to information about the things he trained the High Force in.

The soldiers that Sorin trained were highly skilled, and he trained them hard, like he did Fae warriors. The only thing that held them back from being just as deadly was their mortal blood, but even Sorin didn’t know what the next phase meant. He hadn’t realized there was to be a next phase. He didn’t know how he could possibly train them any better than they were. They were as deadly as assassins, if not deadlier.

“What time is he arriving?” Sorin asked as they rounded a corner.

“Now,” announced a man’s voice from the doorway of the meeting chamber. Lord Tyndell was a man in his late forties, but you’d never know it from his build. He was fit and trim, and as strong as the soldiers. He kept his training routine strict, never missing a day. On top of that, his mind was sharper than most, which made him invaluable for any political strategies that the king required. There were streaks of gray in his hair that was otherwise as blonde as Drake’s. Other than the hair, though, Drake looked nothing like his father.

Scarlett had called him gracious once. Sorin knew him as anything but. His only interactions with the man were brutal battle talks and training strategies. He was hard and vicious with the soldiers, ensuring they were a flawless unit. He had assumed such mannerisms carried over to his home life,but apparently that was not the case.

“Lord Tyndell,” Sorin said in greeting with a nod of his head.

“That will be all, Drake,” the Lord said, turning on his heel and striding into the meeting chambers. Drake scowled at his father’s back at the dismissal, nodded a farewell to Sorin, and left to tend to his own duties.

Sorin followed Lord Tyndell into the meeting chambers. The Lord had several maps laid on the table, and as Sorin neared, it took all his centuries of training to keep his face neutral. For the maps laid before him were the maps of the continent— all the lands, not just the mortal kingdoms. Not just the Fae Courts to the north and south. But the others that shared the land mass as well. These were lands that contained people many considered to be bedtime stories they told their children when they misbehaved.

Witches.

Shifters.

Night Children.

“I believe the High Force is ready to face any human and Fae threats our kingdom may encounter,” Lord Tyndell said. He had taken a seat at the head of the table. He leaned back in his chair as he spoke, pressing his fingers together and studying Sorin for any type of reaction to the maps and his words. The humans were terrified of the Fae and part of his job had been training them against Fae threats.

Which he had done.

Sort of.

He’d trained them with the common knowledge. He’d trained them that only black ashwood arrows and shirastone blades to the heart or head would kill a Fae. He even taught them a few attacks, but they would never have the speed to actually land a blow on a Fae. The odds of them eluding Fae sight and hearing to fire an arrow were slim to none.

Sorin finished crossing the distance to the table and pretended to study the maps. The Fae Courts were separated by powerful wards. These territories, though, were secured by powerful enchantments and spells.When the mortals came upon the borders of these lands, magic made them turn around. Magic made them believe they were returning home or had found whatever they were looking for. The Fire Court and Wind Court bordered the northern part of the continent. The Water Court and Earth Court occupied most of the southern half of the continent. The Witches occupied the easternmost portion bordering the Wind Court to the north and the Night Children lands to the south. The Night Children and the Shifters were completely secluded from the mortals. The Night Children had the Earth Court to their western border, and the Shifters to the south. And the Shifters? They occupied the peninsula to the south. The human lands ran through the middle of the continent and were divided into their three kingdoms: Baylorin on the far west, Toreall to the east, and Rydeon in the middle.

He leaned over the maps, not looking at the Lord, and said nonchalantly, “You want me to prepare them to face bedtime stories?”

“Come now,” he said smoothly. “We both know that such things are real, just as we both know you are not from these mortal lands.”

Sorin slid his eyes to the near black ones of Lord Tyndell. “Which lands do you think I am from?”

“A man of your skill set? I would have discovered you long before I did if you were from Windonelle. Your name would have also been known even here if you had trained in Toreall or Rydeon. Which can only mean, General Renwell, that you come from one of the Fae Courts.” Sorin was silent, not entirely sure what to say to the Lord as he continued. “I am well aware that a few mortals reside in the Courts, that some humans prefer living as lesser beings amongst the power-hungry Fae. I am also aware that many seek refuge from the Courts here. A place to start over. Which side of that line you reside on I have yet to discover.”

“Does it matter?” Sorin finally asked.

“No. It does not matter to me.” A smile played on the Lord’s lips as he said, “You are exceptional at your job, and you manage your unit well. As long as that continues, I do not give a shit if you hate the Fae bastards or love them. As long as my soldiers know how to kill them,I don’t give a fuck. I have given you the very best this kingdom has to offer. Now it is time to train them against more than just the monsters to the north and south of us. As you were trained in the Courts, you are very aware of the other…territories on this continent.”

Sorin stared at the Lord for a moment. “Why would you feel the need to train them against lands that cannot reach them?”

“You are here, are you not?” he replied with a smirk. “Clearly it is easier to reach these lands than we think.”