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A wave of fear rushed through her when he didn’t lower his sword but gripped the hilt tighter as he faced Merrick. The Fae ignored him as he stalked up to Lessia and bent down to pick up the daggers, shoving them into her hands.

She remained still as he looked her over, careful not to meet her eyes, before he leaned in close. “You need to erase his memory.”

When she started shaking her head, Merrick hissed, “Look at him! He is about to fight me. Perhaps you as well.”

Lifting her eyes to Loche, she nearly stumbled back at the flames burning in his gray ones.

“Loche…” she started but trailed off when his eyes snapped to Merrick .

“You’re the Death Whisperer,” Loche growled. “King Rioner’s right-hand man.”

His gaze shifted back to Lessia, and she swallowed at the hurt twisting his features.

“So, you are a spy, after all.” He started pacing back and forth, his sword ready in his hand. “Does he want war? Is that what your king is after? I can’t ignore this. Ellow can’t ignore this.”

“Loche—” she started again as she slipped one of the daggers into her waistband, but he interrupted her.

“No! I thought I’d figured out your secret, but you keep many, don’t you? Fuck! I don’t want another devastating war. Why is he doing this?”

When Lessia and Merrick remained quiet, he screamed, “Tell me! You owe me that much.”

“I… I can’t,” Lessia got out, her voice strangled.

“You won’t. That’s what you mean!” Loche dragged a hand through his dark hair. “You need to come with me. I’ll have to take you to the dungeons. I’ll try to make sure they don’t execute you, but I need time to figure this out.”

Merrick gripped her arm. “If you don’t erase his memory, I have to kill him.”

His magic whispered through the air again, and Lessia bit back a cry.

She didn’t want to do this.

She couldn’t do this to him.

But as she desperately scanned the area around them, a sharp pain coiled its way up her arm.

Loche knew about them now, and even though the king hadn’t given her a timeframe for when she needed to use her magic, he’d told her she couldn’t share anything about him or her mission.

Beside her Merrick shook from restraining his magic, the oily whispers snaking over her shoulders, and a whimper worked its way up her throat when the pain in her arm intensified.

Her feet moved of their own accord, making her take a step toward Loche.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she pulled on her own magic.

“What are you sorry for?” Loche snarled, eyeing her as she took another step.

“This.” Her voice barely carried over the wind as magic rushed through her body, her eyes shifting into a molten golden glow.

Loche’s hard eyes widened for a second before they glazed, every line of his face softening into a mask of obedience.

She huffed a breath as her heart cracked at seeing him like this.

Completely unrecognizable from the strong, lethal, alluring leader he was.

Placing a hand on his heated cheek, she gently caressed it with her thumb.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered again before dragging up every ounce of magic within her.

Her voice lowered into a seductive murmur.

“You will forget that Merrick has magic, forget that he’s the Death Whisperer and full Fae.

You will forget that we are spies. You will forget I did this to you, forget that we had this conversation.

The only thing you will remember is that we were attacked, and we fought them bravely.

Merrick thankfully showed up before we were overwhelmed, and he helped take them down. ”

As she began to pull away from Loche, Merrick spoke behind her. “Give me a minute. ”

She didn’t dare avert her eyes from Loche’s, but out of the corner of her eye, she caught Merrick unsheathing his sword, driving it into the lifeless bodies on the ground, backing up her story.

Her throat went dry as she stared into Loche’s vacant eyes, and she continued to brush her thumb over his cheek—as if the touch could somehow make up for what she was doing.

“Ask him what King Rioner wants to know,” Merrick ordered as he made his way to them.

Lessia stiffened. “No. This is enough.”

Merrick stepped up behind her, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. “He ordered you to. This is the best chance we’ll get, Lessia.”

“No! I can’t do this.”

Merrick’s hand brushed her arm, but she found no comfort in it.

“You don’t have a choice. You’ll fulfill his orders if you do this. Think about what you have to lose. If you don’t care for your own life, think of your friends.”

Lessia stared up into the gray clouds above her, only seeing Amalise’s and Ardow’s faces before her eyes.

Drawing a shaky breath, she opened her mouth, clasping at her chest when it seemed to cave in on her. “What do you know of the attacks in Havlands?”

A dry sob left her throat as the words tumbled out.

Loche’s voice was monotone as he spoke. “They’re retaliation for what I did.”

She blinked but couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What did you do?”

“Betrayed the people who helped me become regent.”

“What… what do you mean?”

Not a muscle moved in Loche’s face. “Everyone thinks it’s a miracle the lowly bastard rose so quickly in the ranks and then was able to win the election.

It wasn’t. I was offered money for my campaign and information that allowed me to blackmail the nobles into voting for me.

All in exchange for them having a say in how Ellow should be ruled.

But I’m not someone you can control. I took the money and information, won, and then stopped all correspondence with them.

I want what’s best for Ellow, and those people are not it.

They’ve been attacking me and my men ever since then, trying to get me to fall back in line. ”

Her stomach dropped.

She’d thought it strange he had been able to get as far as he had, but after getting to know him…

She’d thought she’d understood why.

This, though…

This was information her king really shouldn’t have.

“Who are they?” Merrick asked behind her.

“I don’t know.” Loche continued to stare blankly into her eyes. “I’ve never met them. We communicated through letters.”

“Enough!” Lessia cried.

She couldn’t hear more.

She didn’t want to hear more.

Not like this.

Not when she would have to relay this word for word to King Rioner.

As she forced her magic down, Merrick let out a grunt behind her, and she was about to snarl at him when his hand dropped from her shoulder and he fell to his knees with a thud.

Pulse thundering in her ears, she tore her eyes from Loche, slamming into dark ones under a hood. Pulling the cowl back, the man spat on Merrick’s body as it crumpled to the ground .

“Traitor,” he hissed, raising the sword again and angling it to Merrick’s heart.

Blood dripped from the sword, pooling on the ground beneath the Fae, and a mirrored crimson hue filled her vision. Anger like she’d never felt before overwhelmed her, and without thinking, Lessia lifted the dagger she still held on to.

With a bloodcurdling cry, she jumped over Merrick and drove it right into the man’s heart, the cracking of his ribs as she broke through them echoing in the night.