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I brush the memory away, searching from the other memories linked to it. Meriadec is tied to a chair now, and she’s carving at the tendons in his body. Sometimes, the Fey ability to survive is more of a curse than a blessing. He gave her all the information she wanted, but she keeps going, because for the first time in decades, she felt something new. A thrill. Was this what Auberon felt when he did the same to her mother?Alive?

I examine her mind, ensuring she hasn’t told anyone what she learned, but I don’t see anything. What I need now is the mole, and I search for him.There—Dagonet. He’s one of Meriadec’s friends. He was the one who originally sold her the iron. Arwenna flirted with him and hinted at sex, at an affair with a beautiful, wealthy woman. That’s all it took to turn him.

I pull away, inhaling deeply. Arwenna’s breath gurgles, and her eyes gape up at the snowy sky.

“I usually try to avoid killing people whose minds I touch.” My throat tightens “It’s hard to kill someone you truly know. But in your case, it feels like a mercy killing.”

I push up the sleeves of my cloak and shove my blade into her heart. The light fades from her eyes.

Shaking, I stand and look around the snowy forest. We’re in the middle of nowhere. No one will find her here.

I turn away, washing my hands in the snow, trying to remove every last drop of her blood. If I have any of her blood on me, the Fey will smell it on me when I get back to Perillos.

When I’ve scrubbed the blood off my arms with the hem of her dress, I make my way back to Clover.

It’s hard not to think of Mordred calling me ruthless. And like Mordred, I feel more isolated than ever—a monarch in a ruined kingdom of my own. Like father, like daughter.

I find Clover waiting for me, and my hands shake as I reach for the reins, trying to block out the ghosts of Arwenna’s memories. I don’t want to think of her standing before her father, wishing he loved her.

I want to bury Meriadec. Even Arwenna, for all she’s done, deserves a proper burial. But I’ve been out here too long, and I need to ride back to Perillos before dark, or they’ll send soldiers to look for me. After I return, I’ll ask another agent to come back here.

I swing into the saddle, Clover shifting beneath me, and her breath rises around her. Snow swirls in the wind as I gently urge her on, and she walks over the frozen landscape. My thighs ache, and exhaustion spreads through my muscles. I’m cold and drained, but I’m moving.

Once again, I did what I needed to do. I silenced the countess and stopped her from revealing the entire resistance network.

After twenty minutes of riding, my throat is parched, and I’m hungry. Sighing, I stop Clover at the edge of the forest. I hear a rushing river nearby and walk through the snow to reach it. I kneel at the water’s edge and remove my gloves. Cupping my hands, I drink the icy water. When I lift my eyes, I see a castle in the distance: Val Sans Retour, where Arwenna grew up, dark spires that loom above the snow, windows flickering with warmth. I lick my lips, letting myself for one moment imagine what they might be cooking in the kitchens there.

Arwenna’s memories surge through me, vivid and haunting—bare feet padding across cool stone, the scent of freshly baked bread as she wanders into the kitchen. My stomach rumbles.

I’m lost in her thoughts until a powerful hand grips me from behind, spinning me around.

Instinct takes over, and I draw my dagger, only to find my wrist caught in an unyielding grip. I drop the blade, my heart slamming against my ribs, and gaze into Talan’s gorgeous face.Warmth rolls off his powerful body, but his expression is pure ice.

He releases my wrist and grabs me by the waist, forcing me hard against the rough bark of a tree. My pulse pounds as his body presses against mine, caging me in.

“And what, exactly,” he murmurs, his voice a dark purr sliding over my skin, “is my wife doing lurking so near Val Sans Retour?”

CHAPTER 26

Danger coils off him like smoke. His dark, smoldering eyes bore into mine, searching for answers. His magic strokes against my mind, testing the barriers. He’s trying to coax me open and spread my secrets bare. With an effort, I resist his power.

I pout, my breath coming fast and sharp. “I was bored and alone, as usual. You’re never around.”

The dying sunlight carves his high cheekbones with shadows, and his lips curve in a faint, cruel smile. “So, you decided to visit the castle of a marquis whose daughter is trying to kill you?” His voice is controlled and quiet, but underneath his seductive murmur cuts the cold edge of anger. Goosebumps rise on my skin.

My thoughts flail and crash, storm-wrecked, as I search for a better excuse, but he’s like a tempest, a dangerously beautiful storm, and I can’t think straight around him.

I bite my lip, and his gaze flicks down to my mouth.

My core tightens. Gods, how does he make me feel so exposed without even touching me?

“I wasn’t going inside Val Sans Retour. Lumos invited me to a little country house nearby. By the lake. I thought it would be fun.”

He moves before I can react, pulling my cloak open. The cold air strikes my skin through my dress. His eyes never leave mine, and he studies me closely. His gaze pierces me to my core, and I’m sure he’s seeing everything, sifting through my secrets. Taking me apart one piece at a time.

“Lumos,” he repeats, his voice soft and dangerous. His fingers trace a path up my body, caressing me from waist to chest to rest lightly against my throat. His touch is feather-light, gentle, but there’s no mistaking the control in it. He has me exactly where he wants me, pinned between his body and the rough bark. I am completely at his mercy.

“You go to him for fun.” His silken voice sends a thrill dancing over my skin. Slowly, his thumb strokes the hollow of my throat. “And yet, I can hear how your heart beats around me. I can see your pupils growing larger when you look at me. I can smell the glow of lust on you. I know exactly how your body reacts to me. Does he do the same for you?” His other hand moves lower, teasing the edge of my dress, gathering the fabric between his fingers, but there’s something else in his gaze now, a raw, searing need in the copper. “You want me because you know I could give you more pleasure than he ever could.”