Page 19

Vale’s hand wraps around my upper arm, and he tries to pull me away. The touch is proprietary, like I’m already his subordinate.

I won’t be someone else’s agenda, and I’m not fucking falling into line.

I shrug off the fairy’s hold. “I’m not interested,” I say.

A human woman glides over to Hermio and begins stroking his hair. He leans his head back and closes his eyes. “Did Vale not explain the terms of your coming here?” he says.

I glance at Vale, whose face is expressionless, but I say nothing.

The mortal woman looks at me from the glowing waters, her eyes hollow. There’s nothing behind them—not fear, not love, not hate. She’s an empty vessel, devoid of dreams and wants.

The sight is so disturbing that I siphon off a little of my magic, feed it to the darkness, and cast my questions to the shadows.

… stolen from earth …

… sold as slaves …

… His fortune was built on the lives of changelings …

Their answers sicken me.

Of course I knew that mortals were trafficked here, but that knowledge had been so far removed from my existence. Now, so soon after my mother’s death, seeing these enslaved,magiclesswomen reminds me of the childhood I endured.

My magic surges through me, called up by my outrage. My life up until now has been ruined by men like Hermio who use their power to crush those beneath them.

Why must the strong always hurt the weak?

Vale’s eyes are on me, taking in my every reaction. I have to tamp my emotions down.

“Those who are invited here,” Hermio says, “either leave our doors as brothers, or they don’t leave at all.”

The magic in the room rises, and suddenly, I sense dozens of fae eyes on me from across the room, and I feel the lick of hostile magic at my back. I’m being threatened in a chamber full of lawless fairies.

My anger and pain roil inside of me.

Never going to be weak again.

Giving Hermio and his women one last cursory glance, I turn on my heel and head back down the aisle, towards the exit. On either side of me, fairies watch idly.

The doors ahead of me slam shut, their thick wooden bars coming down heavily to further blockade them.

I stop in my tracks.

I look back over my shoulder at Hermio. “Unbar the doors.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “A penniless boy from—let me guess—” his eyes flick over me, “Arestys, judging by the desperate look of your clothing, thinks he can stand up to me?”

Many of the other fairies in the room are slipping out of the pool, their wings flaring agitatedly.

Anger and anxiety build beneath my skin. My power begins to leak from me, and the already dim room begins to darken.

… Yessss …

Hermio tilts his head. “Now what is this? The poor beggar boy has a bit of magic to him.” He clucks his tongue. “What a waste killing you will be.”

My magic reaches one of the sparking fairy lights above us. It pulses once, then dims into darkness as the shadows swallow it up.

… More …