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Chapter Six

ARABELLA

A rabella knew instantly she was back in the fae realm by the humming of the earth.

It was far richer than anything in the mortal lands, and it didn’t hold the taint of demons. It felt like sea air carried on spring winds. She didn’t sense the lingering sludge in the land that the presence of demons always left behind.

She stood beside Jessamine, Breckett, Kazimir, and Vorkle in what appeared to be a large sitting room with a myriad of sofas with velvet cushions and golden trims. Each sofa was likely worth more than a home in Shadowbank.

For a moment, all she could think about was how this land was free of the threat that she’d lived with her whole life.

The demon-infested forest.

Had the demons always lived in the mortal realm? Or had they existed in all realms, but the fae had the power to kill them or force them out through the gateways?

What was it like to not live in constant fear?

After a moment, she realized that her bond with Elias was quieter somehow, though the tugging had increased tenfold.

Her chest physically ached with the pressure, and she rubbed a fist to it.

She wondered if the increased distance between them changed the emotions she could feel from him.

But damn—this bond did not like it when they were apart.

Slowly, she looked around the room.

Lit by the sun through a series of open windows, the space was larger than the common room at the House of Obscurities.

At the center of the sitting room were a series of sofas arranged in a circle, likely for hosting guests.

There was also a small table and chairs near one of the windows.

At another window, there was a long bench, which she assumed was a reading nook.

A glance through the open window told her that they were several stories off the ground, though she couldn’t be sure if they were in the castle of the Twilight Court or another location.

We escaped, she thought, her heart racing.

Magnus’ army had come for her, and she’d narrowly avoided falling into his clutches.

However, not all of them had escaped. Where had Hadeon gone, and why didn’t he portal with them?

“Where did the prince go?” she asked Kazimir.

The fae warrior didn’t reply as he strode to a chair large enough to hold a bear.

She realized belatedly it was that size to accommodate his wings.

Sweat beaded on his brow, and the sun filtering through the windows made it look like his pale skin shimmered.

Like Hadeon, he was tall with massive black wings and the pointed ears of fae.

But unlike the prince, a seriousness lurked in the back of his gaze—as though mirth had abandoned him long before birth.

Jessamine crossed her arms, still covered in blood from the battle, not making a move to join him.

Breckett heaved a sigh from where he stood beside Jessamine before heading toward a drink cart beyond the sofas and pouring himself a glass of what Arabella assumed was fae wine.

She marched across the room to where Kazimir sat, his eyes fixed on the far wall.

“Why didn’t Prince Hadeon teleport with us?” she pressed.

Slowly, Kazimir’s gaze shifted up, and she realized for the first time that his eyes were violet—a rare color for anyone in the mortal or fae realms. She wondered just what that meant for his heritage or magical abilities.

“He’ll be here soon enough,” he said simply. “He only travels by gateway.”

That wasn’t an explanation, and he knew it.

“What if he’s captured and taken to Magnus?” she pressed, not certain why she was so concerned for a male who held a favor over her head.

A dark fury flashed across Kazimir’s gaze. “He knew the risk.”

Vorkle cleared his throat. “Will that be all, my lord?”

“I’m not a lord.” Kazimir turned to where the goblin stood across the room. “You and the others are free to move about the estate grounds. The staff is discreet. Stay out of sight of newcomers. It’s not uncommon for the prince to receive guests from the capital.”

They weren’t in the city or castle, then.

Did that mean Hadeon had his own estate? She had assumed all the royalty lived at the palace or within the city proper. While she knew the basics of fae magic, there was so much she didn’t know about their culture and politics.

“We’ll send word if we require your services again,” Kazimir said.

Vorkle’s mouth settled into a fine line before his eyes shifted to Arabella.

They looked at each other for a long moment.

There was an emotion on the goblin’s face that she couldn’t quite identify.

Was it resignation? He was as dependent on the scheming fae prince as she was.

Perhaps it was his version of sympathy for their shared circumstances.

Or perhaps he was just cross. Then he was gone, disappearing into the air.

She opened her mouth to speak when a voice came from behind her.

“Back so soon?”

Power bloomed at the edge of her senses, and she turned toward the figure striding toward the drink cart without pausing to acknowledge her, Jessamine, or Breckett.

Either unphased or unthreatened by them.

Like Hadeon and Kazimir, the male was breathtakingly handsome.

All sharp angles and muscled confidence.

But he wasn’t a fae of the Twilight Court.

It wasn’t just his lack of wings that gave him away—though she’d learned not all fae from the Twilight Court had wings.

As he reached past a stiff Breckett for a decanter and glass, she spotted faint webbing between the male’s fingers.

His arms shimmered as though colorful scales hovered beneath his dark brown skin.

Water fae , she realized.

If she recalled correctly, there was more than one underwater fae court. She wondered which he was from.

“The sorcerer sent a company of ogres and gargoyles,” Kazimir said to the newcomer from where he sat in the chair. Although he lounged back, he didn’t look comfortable. Every line of his features was as taut as a bowstring.

The water fae made a noncommittal sound. As he did, the corners of his mouth seemed intent on reaching the floor.

Kazimir gestured to the newcomer. “This is Waylen. He’s a… friend of Hadeon’s.”

Waylen didn’t bother to incline his head toward them. He simply glanced at Arabella, Jessamine, and then Breckett. His long brown hair was in many plaits and tied back in a knot, emphasizing his angular features that seemed as hard as his countenance.

“Not a friend of yours?” Waylen said, his voice holding a hint of a playful challenge as he poured himself a glass of some fae alcohol and tossed it back.

Kazimir gave Waylen a flat look. “You know what I meant.”

Suddenly, the doors to the sitting room burst open.

Everyone turned toward the doors, hands on weapons, stances low.

“See?” Hadeon said, sounding more winded than she’d ever heard him. It was so unlike his usual unbothered demeanor. His black hair was damp with sweat, but he appeared unharmed. “You worried for nothing.”

There was a sound like a harrumph from Kazimir, but he didn’t voice an objection.

Hadeon strode over to the sofas at the center of the room and dropped into one, kicking off his boots. One of his wings draped off the edge. The entire image felt too comfortable.

In the oversized chair beside him, Kazimir leaned back as though finally able to relax.

“How did you get here so fast?” she asked. “The gateway is miles from the castle.”

“There are gateways in the air,” Hadeon replied. “Most don’t know of them, and demons can’t travel through them.” He nodded to the water fae at the drink cart. “I see you’ve met Waylen.” Then he gestured to the winged male beside him. “As well as Kazimir, my right hand in the Twilight Court.”

That explained why Hadeon didn’t seem concerned about an army so close to a gateway that led to the Twilight Court.

If demons couldn’t travel by gateway, how had Elias and Breckett used it? She wondered if it was because, while they’d been turned into demons, they were once men. Perhaps the part that was once human still lived within them.

But if Elias and Breckett could travel by gateway, that meant the erox in Magnus’ army could also travel by gateway. It wouldn’t be the full army, but it could be enough to threaten the fae…

“Why did you bring humans here?” Waylen said, his voice was as sharp as his narrowed gaze. It was then that she realized his eyes were unlike humans’ or the eyes of the Twilight Court fae. His pupils were slightly narrowed, though not quite feline.

“Because we’re excellent company,” Jessamine bit back before Arabella could form a reply.

Arabella tried—and failed—to suppress a smile.

Waylen turned to Jessamine, truly looking at her for the first time. “And you are?”

“Your problem,” Jessamine said, entirely unaffected by the power radiating from the three fae.

Although her friend was short in stature, the dried blood coating Jessamine’s face and leathers made her a fierce picture. There was no fear in the lines of her hardened features, only a smoldering flame that—it seemed—she was about to unleash.

For the first time, Arabella wondered why no one had taken their weapons.

Hadeon raised a hand, which had Waylen closing his mouth. “Why don’t we all take a seat and… discuss future relations.”

Waylen didn’t sit but acquiesced by standing beside Kazimir’s chair, leaning against it, and crossing a leg.

Arabella settled into the least-expensive-looking sofa, and Jessamine came to stand behind her.

With a sigh, Breckett tossed back whatever he’d been drinking before he joined them and sat in a chair nearest the door.

Hadeon introduced her, Jessamine, and Breckett and then provided a brief overview of what happened at the castle.

“The sorcerer will be pissed,” Waylen said, once again not bothering to look at Arabella, Jessamine, or Breckett.

Kazimir nodded. “You’ve taken in a mortal he wants as well as a demon who stole something from him.”

Breckett’s eyes narrowed. “How did you?—”