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“I know you killed her,” the Queen of Air and Darkness said, staring down into the smiling face of my mate.

“I assure you, I had nothing to do with her death, but I can’t say I’m sad someone got rid of the cunt,” Estrella said, the words loud and clear in the throne room. Everyone heard them, heard whathadto have been the truth fall free.

Except it wasn’t.

The lie tumbled from her lips so easily, even I questioned if it was true. Until the realization settled over me, sending a shock through my chest at the confirmation of what Mab had already suspected.

Estrella wasn’t Fae.

“You’re lying,” Mab hissed, squeezing her nails tighter until blood welled beneath the claws.

“How? The Fae cannot lie,” Estrella said, maneuvering Mab right into the trap she had so skillfully set.

Mab either had to admit her suspicions of what Estrella was to the gathered crowd of allies and enemies alike, or she had to relent that Estrella couldn’t have done it.

As if they realized it too, whispers broke out through the throne room as they looked at my mate with new questions.

Mab released Estrella, spinning back toward her throne. She ran her hands through her hair as she ascended the dais, stepping over the body of her friend. She twisted to look at Estrella over her shoulder, snarling a quiet “Get out”.

Nobody moved.

“I said, GET OUT!” she screamed, leaning forward with the force of the words.

Estrella stood smoothly under the weight of Mab’s gaze, her eyes drifting to the side so that she could smirk at Rheaghan and me in turn. She was the first to leave the throne room, Malachi trailing at her heels as she walked through the crowd of gathered Fae with her head held high.

I stared at her back as we followed, moving far too slowly for Mab’s liking.

“I am still Queen! Get out of my sight!” she shrieked, her voice becoming more and more unhinged with each repetition.

The silence rang in response, one thought filtering through my mind and in an echo of all who followed my mate:

Not for long.

41

Estrella

Malachi had replaced my collar within the hour. Even without anylogicalexplanation for how I’d managed to slip out of my room, Mab wouldn’t be taking any chances, it seemed.

Nila spent far more time than normal tending to my face and the circles beneath my eyes. Getting me ready for the final evening before the sacrifices. Even Caldris had been allowed to join us in my room, as if the collar were merely a formality.

We both knew there was nothing I could do to stop the Tithe from happening. I’d tried and failed, thanks to Rheaghan’s interference, but even in my anger with him, I knew he’d been right. It would have been foolish to give up my advantage when I wouldn’t really save any lives.

As soon as Malachi had left the three of us in the relative privacy of my room, my mate had stepped up to me—his silent stare demanding. We spoke not a word as I shoved the window—opening myself to our bond once again. He leaned in, kissing me tenderly. Both of us knew what I’d done, but we wouldn’t speak of it—wouldn’t give him anything more than a suspicion to protect that knowledge from Mab.

His gratitude still surged down the thread hours later, rippling over each fiber.

Nila brushed my face with powder and liquid, disguising the hints of exhaustion so that no one could see them. For all anyone knew, I’d had a night of solid rest—not spent it out torturing a rapist.

Caldris lingered in the background, infuriating me with his lack of shirt as he read a book on my bed. The fact that he could just stand up and toss on some clothes before attending a ball that took hours of effort from me seemed grossly unfair. Nila hadn’t stopped being flustered by his presence, but I couldn’t fault her for it. Not when he was so distracting.

The dress Mab had sent for me to wear hung over the edge of the mirror, the fabric dark and foreboding. Tendrils of black inched their way toward my throat, like shadows that would cling to my skin.

Nila glanced at Caldris over my shoulder, nodding at him in some silent communication that left me uneasy. As she stepped away from me and gave me room to stand, I moved toward the dress I’d been told to wear for the evening.

Nila disappeared into the closet instead of helping me into the heavy garment, emerging with a thin piece of fabric. It was as white as the veil, as transparent as it swayed through the wind. But sewn into the fabric were golden gems, a pattern going through the cloth that was breathtaking as it shimmered.

“I don’t understand,” I said, glancing toward my mate.