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Chapter Eight

Samara

I awoke with a start and rubbed my eyes as I looked around.

Carmilla had kept me at her side all day, Kieran’s parents trailing behind us like obedient pets as she’d checked in with the rangers and other staff of the household.

Most had greeted her happily, while some had been a little more reserved but still polite.

I’d tried to see if any of them were under the compulsion of the crown.

There had been no obvious evidence, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been more subtle about it than she had been with Davon and Narcisa.

Carmilla had ordered Vail away after breakfast, something he very much hadn’t been happy about, but he hadn’t disobeyed her.

I’d been pissy about it at the time, even though I knew it wasn’t like he’d actually had a choice.

And even if he’d chosen that moment to stand up to her, it likely would have ended with him thrown into the dungeon next to me, which wouldn’t have helped us in the long run.

Despite me logically knowing this, I’d still been fuming about it for an hour afterwards until the guard escorting me had been replaced by that prick Grigor.

He kept finding reasons to touch me. Never in a super obvious way—even Carmilla wouldn’t have allowed that—but his hand would momentarily slip from my lower back to my ass when escorting me through a door.

Then there’d been the way his knuckles had accidentally brushed across the side of my breast when he’d been reaching for a cloak off the wall.

He’d only stopped because I’d snapped two of his fingers when Carmilla hadn’t been looking, and he’d swallowed his scream of pain. Either because he hadn’t wanted to risk me telling my aunt what he’d been doing, or because he hadn’t wanted to admit that I’d gotten the better of him.

Asshole was lucky there hadn’t been any sharp objects in my reach; otherwise, he would have lost those fingers entirely.

The crown hadn’t spoken to me, even when I’d tried to coax it into talking.

Occasionally, I’d swear I could feel it slipping into my mind.

It didn’t feel nefarious, rather I got the feeling that it was just seeking refuge somewhere.

It didn’t like the way it was being wielded.

I couldn’t explain exactly how I knew that .

. . only that I did. Exactly what type of connection did my family have to the crown?

Lucian had joined us for dinner, but thankfully Demetri was nowhere to be seen. I’d thought about asking where he’d been but I hadn’t wanted my aunt to construe that as interest in him. Even if she hadn’t taken it that way, it wasn’t like I trusted her to answer me honestly.

Lucian had been oddly friendly towards me.

Apparently, Velika’s ex-consort had decided he liked me.

Good for him, but it wouldn’t stop me from carving out his heart at the first opportunity.

I hadn’t forgotten his torturing of Draven over the years or the way he had shoved a sword through my prince’s heart.

I had a list of people who needed to die—and Lucian was near the top of that list.

Fuck him and his charming smiles.

I looked around my cell. What had woken me up?

Nothing looked out of place, and the Fae lanterns still flickered, casting the room in a warm glow.

Vail wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Not entirely unusual.

He came and went as he pleased. Lately, he’d been sleeping on the floor just outside my cell though.

The hair rose on the back of my neck. Something was here. I was sure of it.

A soft chuckle came from the darkest corner of my cell, and then the shadows moved.

I was on my feet in an instant. On instinct, my hands dropped to my thighs—only, I didn’t have any daggers strapped there as usual. I had nothing. Absolutely no weapons to defend myself, and it wasn’t like anyone would hear me scream.

Damn it! Of all the fucking times for Vail to take a walk!

Shadows drifted through my cell, shifting around until they formed a vague outline of a person. A person with pointed ears.

I started to step back against the wall but stopped myself and moved forward instead. Being against the wall meant being trapped, I wanted to have room to move if needed. What I’d do with that space against a wraith, I had no idea.

“ Din tros. ” The title slithered between us as the shadowy figure gained more form until I could clearly make out the features of their face.

Long hair trailed over their shoulder, whisps of shadow curling at the ends.

When the wraith spoke again, his words had a distinct masculine tone, and he used the common tongue instead Seelie.

“If I wanted you dead, I would have cut your throat while you slept.” He raised a hand, and the slender fingertips morphed into beast-like claws.

Panic at the fact that he was right caused my already rapidly beating heart to go even faster. The wraiths were nothing but Seelie Fae trapped in shadows, but for a few seconds at a time, they could make those shadows solid.

A lot of damage could be done in that short window.

It’s why they were the most dangerous of all the monsters in Lunaria. They could only be killed if they were solid, which meant you had to wait to strike until they were about to kill you. Fighting wraiths was not for the faint of heart.

“Alright.” I willed my heart to slow down and straightened my shoulders.

“If you’re not here to kill me then I assume you’re here to talk.

” Chin held high, I stepped forward until only a couple of feet separated us, putting me easily within their reach.

“You clearly know who I am—the granddaughter of the true Seelie King—I believe it is only fair that I know who I am speaking with.”

Shadows swirled as he cocked his head. It was hard to read his expression because so much was lost to the dark shadowy colors, but I thought he was surprised. Both at my fearless demeanor and how casually I talked about my ancestry and the Seelie monarchy.

Which was good because I was still scared out of my mind and had very little to go on when it came to Seelie politics. All I had were the claims from a freaking sentient crown and the fact that this Fae referred to me as the forgotten queen.

But if he thought I knew more than I did, perhaps he would be freer with what he spoke. Fake it ’til you make it. Kieran had taught me that strategy.

“I am Serill.” His voice was even clearer now with an almost musical quality.

Normally when the wraiths spoke, it sounded like multiple voices layered over each other.

It made it challenging to understand them.

I could still hear traces of that, but I had to almost strain to notice it.

I didn’t know what it meant that he was able to speak so clearly now. Probably nothing good.

“Pleased to meet you, Serill.” I extended a hand out between us, concentrating hard on keeping it from shaking. “You may address me as Samara.”

He looked at the hand for a moment before his lips curled into a grin.

I forced myself to remain calm as he reached out to rest a hand beneath mine, shadowy fingers that I could sense but not feel wrapping around it.

Then he bowed, and for a split second, his hand became solid as cool lips kissed the back of my hand.

A shudder threatened to race up my spine, but I squashed it and kept a pleasant smile fixed on my face as he rose.

“Even locked in the dungeons, still a queen of old. Despite everything, the blood ran true it seems.” He gave me a sly smile. “More so than with the prince.”

I assumed the despite everything was a reference to my mother’s side of the family, and he got in a dig at Draven too. Nice.

“Perhaps it is the blood of my mother’s people that strengthened me beyond what the Fae could ever dream of.” I arched a dark brow. “And given the prince’s heritage, I see it as a strength rather than a hindrance that he is his own person and not a shadow copy of his parents.”

The Fae chuckled. “Truly, you are a delight. It has been some time since I’ve conversed with one as clever as you. It makes me remember the olden days.”

It was a trap. He wanted me to ask what he spoke of.

To reveal just how ignorant I was of Lunaria’s past, and even knowing this, I desperately wanted to ask.

Was he referring to the early days when the Fae had come to Lunaria?

Or where they had been before? What in all the hells existed beyond the oceans surrounding our small continent?

“Perhaps I can have you over for tea sometime while you reminisce,” I said breezily instead. “As you can see, my accommodations are not quite up to par for socializing at the moment.”

“Indeed.” He walked over to my cell and trailed his fingers across the bars.

The shadows slipped through and around them easily.

I was a little surprised that the iron in the bars seemed to have no impact on him.

Maybe in their wraith forms, iron didn’t bother them?

I wondered if that meant that the enchanted silver weapons we used against the wraiths would be less effective on them if they fully reclaimed their Fae forms .

. . I’d have to mention it to Vail so the rangers could be prepared.

No matter how I felt about Carmilla and her plans, I didn’t want our people to die fighting the wraiths or the Seelie Fae.

Serill turned to face me, his back to the bars and his hands clasped in front of him. “What if I told you we are not the villains you’ve painted us as? That we are merely trying to survive like you?”

“I’d ask if your survival required our death,” I replied calmly. “Because from where I’m standing, the wraiths have been responsible for more Moroi deaths than all the other beasts of this land combined.”

“Your concern is valid.” He nodded. “But you must understand that our previous deal was with Queen Velika, and it was her idea to raid the outposts as we did. We needed those obsidian stones, and she wanted some population control. The food supplies of the Moroi are getting dangerously lower every year as your population swells.”

Not a lie, but not entirely accurate either. We had to take riskier chances while growing crops, often planting in areas with no wards to protect the fields or the workers, but we were managing. Rangers protected the workers during the day, and they retreated to the outposts before the sun fell.

I didn’t know if he was telling the truth about Velika. At the very least, she had known about their slaughter of the outposts while obtaining those stones and had done nothing about it. She was dead. It didn’t really matter if it’d been her idea or not.

This felt like someone trying to cast the blame on another who couldn’t defend themselves. I wanted to know why and what he’d come to offer me.

“That does sound like something Velika would do,” I replied slowly like I wasn’t entirely convinced but found it conceivable.

Serill pounced on my indecision. “There is so much we can share with you. Truly, we only want to survive in this land full of cruelty and lies. A false queen has risen to the Moroi throne. We would prefer you to sit on it.”

My composure shattered for a moment, and I froze. I knew Carmilla had to be stopped, and while I hoped that would be imprisonment rather than death, I would do whatever I had to for our people. But never at the end of this had I seen myself sitting on a throne.

And absolutely not as the puppet queen of the Fae—because I had no doubt that would be all it was. I may not have known much about the Fae, but everything suggested they were not the type to share power.

“I will not allow our past to cloud my judgment of a potential alliance, but I trust you can understand my hesitancy here.” I watched him closely, trying to glean any hint of how he was feeling from his movements and expressions, but the shadows made it so damn hard.

“Putting aside the fraught history between our people, there is also the fact that I am the daughter of the Seelie King—and Erendriel is not the true king.”

It was Serill’s turn to go still for a moment; even the shadows rolling off his shoulders seemed to freeze.

He recovered quickly and gave me a friendly but slightly condescending smile.

“Young one, there is so much you don’t know of our people.

Of what the Fae have been since being exiled to these shores.

” His smile gained a shrewd edge. “Has the crown that rests on the false queen’s head been whispering in your ear? ”

“There are many things whispering in my ear these days,” I answered vaguely.

“Such is the price of your lineage,” he sympathized.

I didn’t buy it. There was something about my bloodline that the Seelie Fae found useful—or feared.

Perhaps it was the same reason Carmilla was suddenly interested in me marrying Demetri again.

Once again, the urgency to get out of here hit me.

I needed access to my mother’s journals and to the secret room I’d found with Rynn beneath Lake Malov.

One of those things had to have the answers I sought.

“What exactly are you proposing?” I fixed my features into a mixture of concern and wariness.

“I would not have my people hurt, and not everyone in this House is responsible for my current predicament. If you mean to break me out by the same methods you used in the outposts, you will only make me your enemy.”

“Queen Velika left many gaps in the wards here for us to come and go. I’m sure we can come up with a plan that would have minimal casualties while we retrieved you.”

And delivered me straight into the hands of Erendriel.

“And what of Draven?”

“What of him?” Serill asked coldly. “His fate rotting in the dungeons below is better than what he would face outside of them. Forget about the mikin.”

Mikin . Traitor.

“I will need time to think on this.” I waved a hand at my surroundings. “Something I have an abundance of, currently.”

“Very well.” Serill bowed his head. “I shall return in three days to discuss this further and offer options for getting you out.” His form began to lose its sharpness before spreading into a more disembodied state.

“Serill.”

The shadows snapped back into a Fae form, and he arched a brow at me in question.

“If I learn that Erendriel has ordered an attack on any outposts or any Moroi while I am thinking this over, any potential alliances will be dead.”

“Of course, my young queen.” Serill smiled. “Not a drop of blood shall be spilt . . . for now.”