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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Samara

Erendriel did return that evening, an hour after sunset, but he didn’t come alone.

“Serril.” I nodded in greeting. “Pleasure to see you again in the flesh.” An apologetic smile graced my lips. “Forgive me, I mean shadow.”

He chuckled, and wisps of darkness rolled off his shoulders as his shadow form strolled towards me. Like the night I’d first met him, he’d chosen to appear in a Fae form rather than something monstrous. He halted a foot away from the archway, where the boundary between us was.

“Feeling bold this evening, are we?” A hand of inky black shadows stretched towards the invisible wall, and he mimed tapping against it.

“It’s easy to be bold when you’re young and naive of the world around you,” Erendriel said evenly.

“Still . . .” Serril pondered me. “I like her more than Velika. Too much human in that one, not enough Seelie.”

The question I’d been about to ask died on my lips. “Velika had Seelie blood too?”

Erendriel snorted dismissively. “Haven’t figured it out yet, have you? I would have thought with all the tomes at your disposal that you would have by now.” He gave me an appraising look. “Perhaps you’re not as clever as I thought.”

“Oh, come now.” Serril’s voice held a mocking quality to it. “Let’s not judge her too harshly. She’s so young, and the only ones who have been able to teach her are other Moroi. It’s the ignorant leading the ignorant. That never bodes well.”

“I suppose you have a point.” Erendriel remained in the center of the small landing with his hands clasped behind his back.

It reminded me of the way the old scholars would stand when they launched into a lecture.

The false Seelie King might be my enemy, but I’d be a fool to turn down any knowledge.

I’d just have to cross-reference whatever he told me with the books to unravel any lies he might have slipped into the truth.

Serril’s hand moved away from the boundary to tap a long finger against his chin. “Have you ever wondered what determined who became Moroi, Velesian, or Furie when your human ancestors cast that original spell?”

Disappointment hit me. I did know, and it wasn’t particularly interesting. “They chose their symbols.” I pointed to the crescent moon on the left side of my neck. “Everyone chose where to paint the symbol. Left for Moroi, right for Velesian, and the front of the neck for Furies.”

“‘We will give our lives for the blood. We will yield our fates in the wild. We will lose our souls to the fury,’” Serril recited.

They were the original words spoken for the spellcasting.

I was a little surprised he knew them, but then again, the wraiths had been raiding the old human settlements to collect the obsidian stones, which had been used in the original ritual.

He’d probably stumbled upon copies of the spell they’d used.

“Your point?” I arched a dark brow.

“Just like you, your ancestors tampered with something they couldn’t begin to comprehend.

” Serril held his hand up again, letting talons form at his fingertips.

Then he grinned widely, and I was able to make out large fangs.

“The spell was already in motion when they began painting those symbols. They did not choose what symbols to carve into their skin; the magic did.”

The disappointment I’d been feeling vanished. In all my readings, I’d never come across that distinction. We’d assumed they’d decided who became Moroi, Velesian, or Furie—likely just divided things up evenly—but if Serril was telling the truth, they hadn’t chosen . . .

“How did the magic decide?” I asked slowly.

Apparently, Serril didn’t like to just give answers.

“I think you know. Only the Furies can use shadow magic, some more than others, like your gifted friend. The Moroi can use Seelie magic. And the Velesians, well, they cannot directly use either type of magic, but if a Moroi were to give them an enchanted bracelet of Seelie magic . . . they could use that. Just as they could use something enchanted with Unseelie magic. The Velesians are magic-neutral.”

It was like gears started turning in my mind as I took it all into account. How had I never realized this before? It seemed so damn obvious.

“Some of the humans had Fae blood,” I whispered. “The ones with Seelie blood became Moroi, Unseelie became Furies, and the pure humans turned Velesian.”

Serril whirled to face Erendriel. “See? So much potential in this one. She just needs a little knowledge, that’s all.”

I was so blindsided by this revelation that I only had a brief flicker of annoyance at his patronizing tone. Was this what made the House bloodlines different? We had higher amounts of Seelie blood, and that gave us the ability to control our bloodlust better?

If Serril was telling the truth, and my gut told me he was, this pointed us in a whole new direction to explore. But first, we had to survive.

As much as I wanted to pepper Serril with more questions, I needed to keep my focus on the goal of this conversation.

“Thank you for sharing your knowledge with me,” I told Serril politely.

“It gives me hope for a future alliance between us. Speaking of which . . .” My gaze slid to Erendriel.

“What are you offering if I choose to ally with you? And what would you require of me?” I raised my chin.

“Marriage is off the table. I will not leave my mates.”

I’d been preparing for this conversation since Vail had left. Draven agreed with me that his father would be suspicious if I suddenly became open to discussing marriage after being so adamantly against it before. This had to be played just right.

The Seelie King studied me. “As long as your aunt bears that crown, you cannot defeat her. You need me far more than I need you.”

“I’ve made it this far.” I crossed my arms. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Before or after she burns down another outpost?” Serril drawled as he sauntered back over to stand near the archway. “How many more of your precious people do you think she’ll kill before you accept that you’re in over your head, my pretty little queen?”

“Not your queen,” I said coldly before turning my attention back to Erendriel in a clear dismissal.

Serril chuckled again.

“Still feisty.” The corners of Erendriel’s mouth turned up in a small, amused smile. “I see why Draven likes you. A little bit of light for his dark thoughts.”

“I do miss making the half-blood scream,” Serril reminisced wistfully.

Rage burned through me, and I let it show on my face briefly before masking my emotions. It wasn’t my words that were going to make this part of the plan successful. It was my body language. Those little tells that Erendriel and Serril were no doubt cataloguing.

Young and inexperienced. Overwhelmed by the world falling apart. Angry at my aunt. These were the things I let them see.

But as Rynn always said, an injured and cornered wolf still had fangs. I just couldn’t snarl with mine yet.

“Draven is not to be harmed,” I said evenly. “Nor are any of my other mates. This will be a business arrangement between us and nothing more.”

“Of course.” Erendriel gave me a placating nod.

“A mate bond would be preferred, as that would almost certainly grant me access to places like this . . .” His eyes left mine for a moment to peer at the stairs behind me.

Whatever he was thinking, I couldn’t read it in his expression.

Then his gaze returned to me. “But there are other things we can do. Until then, you will answer my call and be my eyes and ears for the other hidden areas throughout Lunaria.”

“How many are there? And where?”

“That is not knowledge you need right now.”

If I had to guess, they were in the mountains above the Velesian realm. Draven said Erendriel spent most of his time there. Whatever he was searching for had to be in those mountains.

“Anything else?” I looked over my shoulder and down the stairs quickly.

“Expecting someone?” Serril asked, and my gaze snapped back to him. “Or did you not tell your mates the deal you were seeking to make this evening?”

I stiffened. “I am queen. It’s my decision.”

Erendriel’s smile widened, as if he could already see the cracks of descension forming that he could exploit later.

I had no doubt that he still planned to pursue me as queen or at least a mate bond.

He wanted to get into those hidden rooms, and he likely suspected that some things might be locked down further to my blood. He wanted access—I was that access.

“And what is it you seek?” Erendriel’s gaze lifted to the top of my head. “Perhaps the crown that is yours by right?”

“Yes, actually.” I straightened. “I have no intention of using it to bind the wills of my people, but it is an object of power that I will not allow to fall into the hands of another.”

“Of course,” he answered in that placating way of his that was really starting to irritate me. I kept that off my face though and instead let a hint of insecurity flash through my eyes.

“I don’t trust you,” I said tightly. “I’m not some foolish young girl for you to manipulate.

You’re still set on trying to make me your mate, but I will never do that.

” My inflection wavered a bit towards the end, and I halted my words a little too harshly.

I stood up a little straighter, as if I were encouraging myself, and stared straight into Erendriel’s ancient eyes.

“Help me get back my birthright. As long as the crown sits on my head—as long as I possess it—I will not act against you and will assist you in searching these spaces.”

“I find this acceptable.”

My heart raced a little faster, and I let more uncertainty settle into my features. “I . . .” I trailed off and glanced behind me again. “I can go fetch something so we can hammer out the contra?—”

“No need,” Erendriel cut me off. “You are part Fae. Let us bargain like Fae.”

“How do we do that?” I shifted slightly on my feet before killing the movement.

Erendriel smiled wider. “Simply step across the boundary. Skin-to-skin contact is necessary.”

I swallowed.

“Come now, little queen,” Serril mocked. “Don’t lose that wonderful bravado now.”

I cut him a sharp glance before deliberately stepping forward—over the boundary.

My heart was beating so hard for a second that I swore it was all I could hear.

Draven had warned me that this was likely what Erendriel would ask for.

None of us liked it, but we needed Erendriel’s help, and he clearly needed mine.

The risk wasn’t that he would kill me; it was that he’d simply take me and try to force me to obey him, but I’d thought about the story Draven had told me a night or two ago—about that test Erendriel had put his son through at the outpost. Erendriel would prefer me to ally with him willingly, even if I were doing so reluctantly, because it would make me easier to manipulate in his eyes.

If I ended up defying him like Draven, then he’d fall back on a different plan. He’d learn more about me in the meantime though, so he’d have plenty of weaknesses to exploit.

I closed the distance between me and Erendriel, who just continued to stare at me like a moon devil watching a rabbit hop closer. The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I sensed Serril move to stand at my back.

Erendriel was even taller than Vail, so I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eye, and I could have sworn I saw shadows swirling in his deep blue eyes for a moment.

He held out his hand. “Let’s make a bargain, ki?lfid min tros. ” Little blood queen.

I slid my hand into his and squeezed.