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“Is that why you hate him?” I couldn’t help but ask. “You think he killed her?”

His broad shoulders tensed as his eyes locked on the flames. When he spoke, his voice was a haunted, twisted thing. “Something like that.”

A shiver went through me. His grudge against the king made even more sense than it had before. Hundreds of years, it had lingered. The bond of blood was strong indeed.

“He’s been responsible for a lot of deaths,” I said tightly.

“More than you know.”

“But so have you.”

He loosed a frustrated sigh, pushed up from the ground, and snatched the cloak from my shoulders.

My chin dropped. “Hey!”

“You’re not cold anymore,” he pointed out, his eyes flashing. “I’ll be taking this back now.”

He was right. The warmth of the fire had soothed me, melting away the ice. Even the tips of my fingers were nice and toasty. Despite the horrors of the night, I could easily curl up and fall asleep.

But still. “You’re only doing this because you don’t like what I said.”

“You’re right. I am.” He threw his cloak around his shoulders and stalked over to the boulder where he found a flat rock to perch upon.

I frowned across the cave at him. “What are you doing?”

“Sitting here. Where I can get some peace.” He pointedly turned away. “Go to sleep, Tessa. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

Nineteen

Tessa

SEVEN YEARS EARLIER

Father’s eyes were bloodshot. He’d been spending hours at the pub every day, drinking himself into a stupor, his burning hatred toward King Oberon a conflagration now. He paced in front of where I sat in my reading chair with a book propped open on my knee. Mother was in the orchard, collecting apples from the ground for our village. Nellie had gone with her to help.

“Father, what’s going on?” I asked.

He stopped pacing and looked at me. There were secrets in his bloodshot eyes, the spider veins dangerous lines that connected the past to the man I saw before me now. Gone was the gentle loving father he’d once been. Oberon had taken that man and ground him into dust. A ghost had arisen in his place, hollow and lost.

“There are things I need to tell you, Tessa, but I don’t know if I should. It’s too dangerous.” He knelt before me and clutched my hand. “If Oberon found out, he would hurt you.”

I glanced at the open door, my heart jerking in my chest. “You shouldn’t be saying things like that out loud.”

He let go and jammed his hands into his brown hair. “You’re right. We shouldn’t speak of this here. Let’s go to the pub.”

Father stood and made for the door. I sagged into the chair, trying to hold back the tears. It was always the pub. Every single day, he spent hours in there. It was too much.

“Father,” I said, swiping the tears from my cheeks. “You need to stop this. Please. If not for yourself, then do it for me.”

“Just come with me, Tessa.” He held out a hand and waited for me by the door. “I want to show you something, and then we can come right back here. All right?”

I blew out a breath. Maybe if I went with him, just this once, he’d have one drink and then come home, like he’d promised. I could listen to his stories, his booming laugh lighting up the dank, dark pub. It had been months since I’d heard that sound. His laughter had left him the day Oberon’s wrath had swept through our village.

“All right.” I took his hand and followed him down the road to the village square. The pub squatted on one corner, silent and dark. It was late morning. Most of the villagers were out in the fields or in the orchards, working hard for the fae. Father led me up the stairs and inside.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness. The place had always reeked of ale, but it was stronger now, as if it had been painted onto the warped floorboards. Dust swirled past the round wooden tables, mismatched chairs clustered around every one. An empty bar hugged the far wall, with kegs of ale stacked up beside it. A man named Ty poked up his head from behind the counter, caught sight of us, and frowned.

“What took you so long?” he asked, rubbing his hand along his thick beard. “We need to go now.”