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“Locked.” He frowns, contemplatively running his fingers over the metal. “I can probably break in, but Aedan will notice when he gets here.”

“Wait.” I reach back into my hair and pluck out the jeweled brooch from my curls, letting them tumble around my shoulders. I start to twist the pin and frown. “Do you have a dagger?”

He pulls out a knife and hands it to me by the hilt.

“A little burglar.” Beneath his sarcasm, he sounds faintly delighted. “Of course, how could I forget? The first time I met you, you were breaking into my house.”

I kneel by the lock, letting my fingers graze over the mechanism. It’s a simple lock—I could pick it in ten seconds—but I make a show of fumbling. I can’t have my enemy knowing all my tricks.

“And wheredidyou learn to pick a lock?” he asks in a low voice.

“My dad used to lock our door and lose the keys. It happened all the time.” This was true, except it was my mom. “Or he’d lock himself inside and go to sleep, forgetting that my sister and I were still out.” Also true. And when Mom failed to answer the door, I never knew if she was alive or dead, so I always had an intense sense of panic while trying to get inside. My hands would shake as I envisioned her drowning in a bathtub, unconscious from drugs.

“Having trouble?” He leans casually against the wall, watching me struggle.

“One more second.”

I push the pins, applying the pressure with the knife, and the lock clicks. “Oh, wow, there. I think I did it.”

The door swings open, and Talan and I step into a vast round room with curving bookshelves and towering windows. From here, we have a view of the snowy mountains sloping off beneath us. A long oak desk, littered with papers, stands beneath one of the windows.

My gaze sweeps over the room and the large circular bed in the center, neatly made with green silk sheets.

“Let’s see if he has a spare key.” I cross to the desk. “He’ll be expecting the door to be locked when he gets here.”

With his hands in his pockets, Talan stares at portrait of Lord Aedan. “Sure.”

I pull a desk drawer open and rifle through it. My fingers pause they find tiny glass vials, each filled with various liquids labeled in meticulous Fey script.Nightshade.Aconite.Belladonna.Hemlock. Death, in a dozen delicate bottles.

The mandoeslove his poisons.

“Anything?” Talan asks.

“I think I found Aedan’s poisons.” I pick up the bottle labeledAconite, and my gaze lands on a key ring. “And the keys.”

I slide a bottle of aconite into my pocket, then walk over to the door and find the right key, turning it in the lock until it clicks. “There.”

Talan stands between the door and a bookshelf. He beckons me. “Come closer if you don’t want to be seen.”

I slide into the space beside him, my back pressing against his body. His strong arm slides around my waist, drawing me tightly in. With my head resting on his chest, I hear the steady beat of his heart. My breath catches as his thumb brushes over my hipbone, deliberate and languid. As Talan’s raw power vibrates over my skin, my pulse races faster.

Talan must interpret it as fear, because he leans down to whisper in my ear. “Breathe,” he murmurs, his quiet voice washing the tension from my body like warm water. “I won’t let anyone hurt you when I’m here.”

I close my eyes, melting into him. I have no doubt he’s telling the truth—but his words are a sharp reminder that I’m here to deliver the opposite for him.I’mthe one who will hurt him.

Footfalls echo outside the door. I hold my breath as the lock rattles and clicks. The door opens, and Aedan steps into the room.

I ease from my hiding spot and creep forward. Swiftly, I touch the back of his neck and slam him with my powers.

Sleep, I whisper into his mind.You’re so tired. Sleep. As the violet and red threads of my magic slide into his mind, my skull starts to throb with pain. Still, I don’t relent.You crave sleep so badly, so desperately. Real, deep sleep—just for ten minutes. A proper rest won’t hurt. Sleep.

He totters, stumbles toward the bed in the center of the room, and collapses onto the green silk. Already, he’s snoring, the sound echoing over the room.

Talan crosses to him. “How long do I have?”

“Honestly, I think he might sleep for hours.” I massage the center of my forehead to ease the throb of pain. “He was exhausted. He’s not going to wake up anytime soon.”

Talan rests his hand on Aedan’s forehead and closes his eyes. For a few minutes, nothing happens. Talan frowns and opens his eyes again. “I still can’t get in there. He has too many defenses up.”