Page 84 of Hell Fae Prince

Taking the invitation, I stepped inside.

The posh living area was tidy and filled with maps and folders. A feathered pen floating nearby told me that those folders contained a few of his deals, ones he may have just inked. Or perhaps he just hadn’t gotten around to filing them.

“Yes, you can release him,” Typhos said, but not to me. He was talking to the Unseelie King on the translucent wall monitor.

Erebus was likewise in a luxurious environment, but his office consisted of mirrors. Tons of them. However, each one seemed to reflect the light in a different way, breaking it into rainbowlike patterns that hurt my sensitive eyes.

“We have new information on who has been tampering with the trials,” Typhos continued. “It wasn’t the fae you have in custody. He and several others were set up.”

Erebus licked his lips. “Does that mean the bride trials will continue?”

“Soon,” Typhos promised, which surprised me. But maybe it shouldn’t have. Even if Cami almost died, even if his own Source was under attack, he would still put his people first.

And what about his own fucking mate-circle?I wondered, my jaw painfully flexing as I listened to the conversation between the Hell Fae King and his lieutenant.

“This pleases me,” Erebus said with a smile. “As for the fae, I’m glad I can release him. He’s the father of one of the Hell Fae Bride candidates, a position of honor among us that I prefer to acknowledge rather than punish.”

“I know,” Typhos replied. “Speaking of Hell Fae Bride candidates, have you located the one who went missing in your territory?”

The light flickered around Erebus in fractured patterns as if he flitted those barely discernible wings of his.

“My soldiers are proving difficult to reach of late. Perhaps the girl is giving them a hard time.” He grinned as he tilted his head, the gesture not so much birdlike as mine would be, but playful. One never knew if Erebus was just being himself or hiding something. “You certainly know how to pick them, my king. When I have my hands on her, you will be the first to know.”

“Hmm,” Typhos hummed, not giving anything away, but I had a feeling there was something in this conversation I was missing.

The Unseelie King flicked his gaze to me as I purposefully ventured into view of the screen.

I was here to give Typhos an update on Cami, which, frankly, was more important than whatever games the Unseelie King was playing.

“I see you have company. I will leave you to your important matters, Your Majesty,” Erebus politely announced with a bow of his head. “I look forward to updates on when the bride trials will resume.”

Typhos nodded. “As I look forward to your updates, Erebus.”

The Unseelie King only grinned as the screen went black.

Finally, Typhos turned to me. “Apologies, but I have been providing all of my lieutenants with an update now that we have more information. I think we can safely assume Vivaxia and the Virtuous Fae are behind the attacks on our realm.”

I nodded, agreeing with that assessment. “It seems they’re no longer interested in hiding.”

“Indeed,” he returned, his eyes flickering with dark blue fire.

While I believed and understood Typhos’s statement about needing to update his lieutenants, I also knew that wasn’t the only reason he’d chosen to retreat to his den. He’d caught Camiin the sky, his body and power cradling hers in the fall, then he’d taken her to his bed.

That’d been instinctual.

Not purposeful.

And I suspected he was trying to digest that realization, perhaps even brooding a bit about the involuntary decision to take her into his inner sanctuary.

He studied me for a moment, then motioned to the leather chair next to a fireplace that lit the spacious office with Hellfire. “Let’s talk, Azazel. How’s Camillia?”

An interesting question, considering Melek was no doubt providing him with mental updates regarding her condition, just as Ajax had done with me.

So I chose to ignore the question and ask one of my own. “Is there a reason you had me overhear your conversation with Erebus?”

Typhos poured himself a flaming whiskey, always having a bottle from his personal stash in his office. Then he poured me one, too.

I took the glass and sipped from it while I waited for an answer.