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“No,” I protested, pinning my so-called mate with a glare. “If this is good enough for them, then it’s good enough for me. I will not roam free while they suffer, so if you want to unshackle me, then you’ll need to unshackle them all.”

“Unfortunately for you, Beasty, your mate has no jurisdiction over the rest of them. The Wild Hunt is responsible for returning them to their mates, not the God of the Dead,” Holt said. He dropped the key into Caldris’s hands, and I flinched back as he worked to unlock the irons.

“If you treat me differently, I will never forgive you for it,” I warned, glancing toward the people suffering the weakening effects of the irons as the remaining members of the Wild Hunt brought them to the carts and loaded them onto them.

The rider of the Wild Hunt I’d killed stirred on the ground, coughing roughly before he tossed me a quick glare and stood as if he hadn’t been dead only a few moments prior. Another approached cautiously with a living horse trailing behind him as the key turned in the lock on my shackles, the hinges parting to allow fresh air to touch my fevered skin.

“Add it to your list,” Caldris grumbled, tossing the irons and key back to Holt. He turned to greet the mount, not the rider, touching his face against the muzzle of the onyx horse. Taking the reins, he put his foot in the stirrup and mounted the steed.

I glared up at him for only a moment before I turned to follow the Fae Marked as the Wild Hunt loaded them onto carts, looking for one that had space for me to squeeze in. Holt caught me around the waist, hoisting me up in front of Caldris, who reached out to grab me, scooted back slightly, and settled me in the saddle in front of him.

He reached around me, trapping me in place as he shifted the reins in his grip. His breath touched my cheek and the side of my neck as he leaned into my space. “You ride with me, min asteren. Always.”

8

ESTRELLA

The sun shone down on us, defying the winter that tried to take hold as we navigated around the falls and climbed steadily up the embankment. Moving around the cliff face that I’d navigated with Caelum and Melian only days before, I couldn’t help but glance back at the wreckage of the city below.

Walking into it had been a surreal experience, a legend coming to life around us, painted in the shadows and crafted from the nightmares of what shouldn’t have been possible. Leaving this legendary place with the very God who’d caused such destruction wrapped around me seemed unfathomable, like the most intricately designed tragedy.

The narrow pathway wouldn’t have been wide enough for the horses, let alone the carts they pulled behind them, filled with the Fae Marked. The three white wolves surrounded the horse I shared with Caldris, enormous sentries that would have blended in with the snow on the ground had it not been for those contrasting, red-tipped ears.

The God of the Dead touched his chin to the top of my head as his horse strode forward, leaning his weight into me slightly as we slowly climbed straight up the embankment. I tried not to grasp the horse’s mane too tightly, not wanting to harm the sole creature that seemed familiar to me. The skeletal remains of what might have been Caldris’s victims all those centuries ago clambered up the dirt, boney fingers digging into the soil as they climbed.

It was not only the God of the Dead who surrounded me, but an army crafted from corpses and spectral forms. Of beasts and hounds that the legends could never have painted an accurate portrait of.

Holt rode at our side, his white-eyed stare focused on the ground in front of him as he searched the top of the hill. “You won’t hurt him,” Caldris murmured, making me jolt in his arms.

“Who?” I asked, relaxing my hands slightly as I realized he must have meant his horse.

“Azra,” Caldris answered, reaching forward to pat the horse on the side of the neck. “You won’t bother him if you grab his mane.”

“You have far too much hair to be so casual about hair pulling. Has no one pulled your hair?” I asked, turning back to look at the shoulder-length mane that surrounded his face. It shouldn’t have been possible for it to be somehow masculine and only serve to add to the roughness of his beauty.

“No one has dared,” he said with a chuckle, the rumble sliding up my back and sinking inside of me. His voice was deep as he tipped his head down, angling his mouth toward my ear. “Though you’re welcome to try.”

As we finally crested the top of the hill, Caldris steered Azra back in the direction of the tunnels. “We need to detour first,” Holt said, his gaze straying in the opposite direction.

“No. We need to get across the boundary as quickly as possible,” Caldris argued, tightening his hands on the reins.

“As much as I would like to join you on that endeavor, my sentry reported a group of Fae Marked hiding out in the village of Black Water. A regiment of the Mist Guard was too close for him to try to get them out on his own,” Holt said, turning his skeletal steed away from the tunnels.

Another horse moved up to the other side of us, halting as I turned to glare at the male on its back, who’d run my brother through. Caldris sighed. “What do you want, Aramis?”

“The little menace has proven she needs to be shackled more than the others,” he growled, glancing over his shoulder as he and Caldris kicked their horses into a quick walk to follow Holt. “You may be inclined to give her preferential treatment, and Holt may allow it because of who you are to him, but that doesn’t mean she won’t make the rest of us nervous. Even now, sitting in the carts and surrounded by the Wild Hunt, the other Fae Marked speak of their hatred for her. Of how she sold out her own people just to be comfortable. She should be shackled and riding in the carts with the rest of them.”

Caldris growled, and when I turned to look at his face, his lips turned down with a snarl. His arms tightened around me, squeezing into my sides to the point of discomfort. “Go ahead and try it.”

“Fucking mated pairs. I swear to the Gods, you lot are the stuff of nightmares. It’s not like I’m suggesting she take one of us for a ride—”

“This would be the part where you should shut up!” Holt called back without even glancing toward his companion.

“You should listen to him,” Caldris said, his voice lower than usual. Somethingothertinted it, as if the power of death itself could bleed into his voice. His eyes flashed with blue, a silent warning amplifying his words.

It faded as quickly as it had come, as if there wasn’t the power necessary to back up whatever rage loomed inside of him.

“Sometimes I think it’s fortunate for us all that the Fates kept you from her for so long,” Aramis said, shaking his head. “Anything that could rival Mab’s power with that cursed crown atop her head shouldn’t be possible.”