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“How can you even say that?” Remy’s fingers twitched to grab her dagger. Where in the Gods’ names was Bri?

“Because it is the truth, and it is time he knew it.” King Norwood had a thick, syrupy voice. He cleared his throat every few words. He pointed his gnarled finger at Hale. “I did not sire that male. I caught his mother in an affair with another. She was a commoner, and I had been willing to make her a queen, the ungrateful whore.”

Hale shook out of his stupor enough to gnash his teeth.

“Why claim me at all?” he said.

“You know why. It’s because of her.” King Norwood’s black eyes darted to Remy. “The oracle proclaimed you were her Fated. You were to be shipped off to the High Mountain Court when she came of age and I would be rid of you, gaining a powerful alliance through the union. So I claimed you,” King Norwood darted a look to the half-drunk King Vostemur. “It seemed a wise decision at the time.”

“Ha! I am sorry I ruined those calculated plans, Gedwin.” The Northern King laughed, lounging back on his arm. “You tried valiantly to rid yourself of the boy, but even the Rotted Peak could not kill him. I am glad you trusted in me, friend, to finish the job.”

“You ally with him just to kill me?” Hale balked. “You are a fool.”

“My motivations are none of your concern,” King Norwood said. “But any fool would know that an alliance with the North means security for the future of our court. You think I didn’t know when I saw her? She is the spitting image of Rellia Dammacus, raised from the dead! You think I couldn’t see it in your eyes, too, that you found your Fated? A mate that would make my King very happy to be in possession of.”

Hale gaped as Norwood said my King. So the Eastern King bowed to the North then, so as not to get swept into the storm he was brewing.

King Vostemur smiled through wine-stained teeth. His attention darted to the bodies on the floor and back to Remy.

“I will ask you this one last time, Remini. If you do not answer me, I will make you watch as we kill your mate before turning the blade on you. Let Raffiel come to find you in pieces.”

“No!” Remy screamed and dove for Hale.

He reached out, grabbing her, crushing her against him in the tightest embrace as he whispered, “I love you.”

She only had a second in his arms before they ripped away again from her, but it was all she needed. Hale watched her, wide-eyed for what she had done as a guard dragged her away.

Remy struggled under his grip.

“Stop,” the guard whispered.

Remy turned to face him then. She only saw a flash of light blue eyes before he pushed her to the ground. Remy knew those eyes. She had seen them once before across a card table in Ruttmore.

Bern.

The same fae male who warned Remy and Hale that Abalina was after them. What was he doing here?

“How romantic.” King Vostemur’s voice was lethal and sharp. The Eastern King and Prince watched like birds of prey from their chairs. “Now tell me where your brother is.”

Remy shook her head. Unwelcome tears began to stream down her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

King Vostemur shrugged. Shrugged, as if her answer were no great hardship, and nodded to the other guard beside Remy.

Remy screamed as the guard unsheathed his blade. She choked on a sob as Hale looked at her one more time with a grim smile. This may be the end for them.

The guard lifted his sword high in the air as excited “oohs” rang out in the crowd. Everything in Remy clenched, bracing for that sword to swing. But the guard lowered his sword and with his free hand he reached for his helmet, removing it and baring his person to the room.

“If you wanted to talk to me so badly, Hennen, you should have just asked.”

Raffiel Dammacus, Crown Prince to the High Mountain Court, stood before the Northern King.