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His hand lashed out and grabbed for a fairy throat—but it was not Mor’s. Mor nearly jumped as the High Prince dug his black nails into his son’s neck. Cold power and strength made the air shudder as he lifted the ruby-haired Shadow Fairy off his feet, tugging the vine at Mor’s wrist.

“I was very specific when I told you to snatch a childling insecret,” the High Prince said. “Do you want the Dark Queene to find out I’m gathering forbidden sugar blossom seeds?”

High Prince Reval hurled his son into the grass, and Mor was torn back with him. Mor caught himself on his knee, but the ruby-haired Shadow Fairy broke a bone in his arm as he struck the dirt. The fairy growled, clawing at the grass as he climbed back to his feet. His sparkling, metallic hair was dishevelled. He kept his mouth shut as he stared at his father and snapped his arm back into place.

“Go fetch me a childling with pockets full of sugar blossom seeds and do it the way I asked.” The High Prince’s cold voice drifted across the circle as he made his way back to his twig throne.

“I shall complete my task as you wish,” the ruby-haired fairy promised. But his glower dragged over to Mor. “But what will you do about him?” he asked his father.

The High Prince sat and tapped his armrest. “Who is this fool’s commander?” he asked the circle.

Mor’s commander scrambled to stand. He bowed before the Prince. “I will punish him severely, Your Highness. I will take away his food for three days.”

“Nonsense, don’t drain him of his strength. He hasfeelings. We must stomp those out of him,” High Prince Reval said. He eyed the vine around Mor’s wrist, and another beautiful, wicked smile crossed his face as his gaze followed the tether to his son’s wrist. “Is he a decent fighter?” he asked the commander.

“Yes. He is one of my best,” the commander said. “But up until today, he has not spoken a word in front of me. I thought he was mute until just now. I’ve been calling himfoolbecause I did not know his name.”

The High Prince nodded. “And what is your name, young fairy?”

Mor felt the implication. He knew how easy it would be for this High Prince to ask for his real name and force him to do unspeakable things.

“Mor,” he answered, because the High Prince had not been specific in his question.

“Do you know how powerful my son is, Mor?” the Prince asked.

Mor did not answer, so the Prince told him. “My son is a nine tailed fox, like me. And you must know that I’m the most powerful of all the fairies in the Dark Corner apart from the Dark Queene herself. Have you heard of foxes before?”

Mor swallowed, and this time, he nodded. “Only in childling books.”

Books that had told ancient stories of unstoppable power. Rare creatures with nine lives, the ability to steal secrets, and a special intuition that made them nearly invincible. If the Shadow Fairy beside him was what this Prince claimed, Mor wondered why this young fox had allowed Mor to take him in the first place back at the streetside. He turned and took his first real look at the ruby-haired fairy.

The ruby-haired fairy looked back at him. He flashed a lovely, crooked smile.

“You will become part of my division, Mor,” High Prince Reval announced. “I will not make it easy for you. I will ensure that every one of yourfeelingsis squeezed out until you are nothing more than a fae folk shell for me to use in battle. You were clever enough to carry an enchanted vine in your pocket that ensnared a powerful fox, so you are worth more to me alive than dead. You start as one ofmywar fairies tomorrow.”

It felt as though Mor’s blood was draining out right there in the grass. He had spent years staying undetected and quiet. He had been so very careful not to stir the cauldrons or shake the pepper since the day he volunteered to join the Shadow Army. He’d stayed quiet to avoid this exact sort of thing.

“And Son, I’ve changed my mind. Forget the faeborn sugar blossoms. Your new mission is to turn this Shadow into a true war fairy.” Prince Reval’s voice was cold and sweet, and it prickled over Mor’s skin. “Even if you have to rip out his heart to do it.”

A flutter of chilling silence roared over the circle as every commander’s gaze settled on Mor.

Mor would never be able to go anywhere unnoticed again.

“And I shall be clear about this,” Prince Reval added, looking directly into Mor’s eyes. “In this army, feelings don’t belong. Once you are a Shadow Warrior, there is no love. There is no care. There is no hope of finding a mate, ever. You will be marked to be eternally alone, but we will all be alone in war together.”

Mor was deathly silent for several heartbeats. Then, he lifted his arm and bit the vine with his teeth. It snapped and the plant disintegrated to ash that fluttered away in the cold breeze. As soon as the ruby-haired fairy’s wrist was free, he walked around to stand face-to-face with Mor, silvery eyes promising that he was going to enjoy destroying him.

12

Mor Trisencor and the Present

“I hate you.”

It was an unexpected confession from the other side of the room. Mor heard it well enough from where he hauled the bucket of cleaning supplies from the closet in the cathedral’s living space.

The human hadn’t moved from the same spot on the floor where she’d been standing, staring at him in an entirely different way after he admitted he’d tried to take her memories the other day. Her tone told him she wasn’t making a jest; that deep down, a fiery part of her truly did hate him for some preposterous reason that likely had nothing to do with him.

Mor set the bucket down and turned to face Violet Miller, writer of all things dark and mysterious and noteworthy.