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A hesitant tap-tap on the bedroom door dragged Langdon from a sound sleep. Pushing himself up on his forearms, he bit back a groan. By the dark gods, he hurt. Even with his powerful blood, it was going to take a day or two to completely heal.

He could almost admire Adric and that river fada female of his. They’d fought hard and well. Not that the alpha wouldn’t pay for attacking him.

Another apologetic tap-tap .

“What?” he growled.

The door opened. Jessica, Olivier’s new assistant, peeked into the darkened room, her anxiousness palpable. A recent human hire, she regarded Langdon as a cross between a monster and a god.

At all that delicious dread, his mood improved. He pushed himself up on his forearms. “Come in.”

She took a single step and halted, her slender body framed in the light from the hallway. Just for fun, he nudged her fear up a notch and then sipped at the luscious, panicky emanations.

Her dark eyes rounded. She wrung her narrow hands. “I beg your pardon, my lord. I know you gave orders not to be disturbed, but this can’t wait.”

He shoved off the duvet and strode naked across the floor. Sensing movement, a handful of fae lights glowed on, casting a deep aubergine light over the bedroom.

Jessica froze and blinked rapidly, her gaze jumping from his half-hard cock to his bare chest and back again before settling on his face. He caught a spark of arousal mixed with the fear. Interesting…

“Speak,” he commanded softly.

“Yes, my lord.” Her head bobbed up and down several times.

A pause as he waited for her to enlighten him. When she remained silent, fingers tangling nervously in front of her body, he stifled a sigh. Olivier was going to have to hire another assistant. Although she had possibilities as a toy…

“Jessica. What is so important that you disturbed my sleep?”

She started. “I beg your pardon, my lord.” She licked soft, coral-colored lips and finally got it out. “The sun fae queen is here. She wishes to speak to you.”

“Cleia? She’s here ?”

“Yes, my lord. Uh…not here, exactly. She’s outside the wards, of course, but…” She shifted from foot to foot and added in a rush, “She’s demanding to see you, my lord. Captain Quade tried to put her off, but she refuses to leave without seeing you.”

His mouth pulled down. He’d expected Cleia, of course—the queen had an inexplicable fondness for her mate’s young sister—just not so quickly.

“My clothes,” he said. “Now.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Jessica scurried to obey, rushing into his walk-in closet and reappearing with a shirt and pants in a shimmering blue-black fabric.

Meanwhile, he sent a message to Quade, agreeing to meet the queen in a pine grove outside the compound.

Cleia might be young for a fae, but she was too powerful to allow within his wards.

That done, he selected a few pieces of jewelry—a glittering diamond pendant the size of a walnut, a couple of hand-worked platinum-and-diamond rings, a platinum watch. Jessica returned with a pair of Italian leather shoes and knelt on the floor so he could step into them.

He touched her curly brown hair. “Thank you, my dear.”

“My pleasure, my lord.” Her head bobbed in a way that had his mind picturing lurid acts.

He set them aside—for now—to head for the portal nearest the pine grove.

Cleia hadn’t come alone. Quade and his warriors relieved her fada companions of their weapons before permitting Langdon to step through the portal. Langdon allowed it, but he couldn’t help being amused; the queen was infinitely more dangerous than all the fada put together.

Time ran differently in a fae court. Inside his wards, it was early afternoon, but outside, a new day had dawned. As he stepped into the forest, the rising sun sifted pale gold through the pine branches. He donned a pair of sunglasses and took in his visitors.

The queen had planted herself in a shaft of sunlight, her statuesque body clad in a snug yellow T-shirt and bronze moto pants, her bright hair braided into a single over-the-shoulder plait.

Lord Dion stood close beside her, his black hair in a ponytail, his eyes like silver flints, his broad shoulders straining at his leather jacket.

A barbarian in human clothing. The fae world had been appalled when Cleia took a fada mate, but the Rock Run alpha had a certain primitive appeal.

A pity the queen wasn’t into threesomes.

Rui do Mar, Dion’s second, stood a step behind along with Dion’s brother Tiago. Next to them were a slim woman with short dark hair and large, catlike eyes, and a lean blond mixed-blood whom Langdon recognized as one of Sindre’s former envoys.

There were other fada present, too, all men, but his gaze lingered on the woman.

Welcome, my pretty little cat.

He inclined his head to Cleia. “Your highness, you honor my court.” He touched a hand to his chest in a gesture of respect. “Peace to you and yours.”

He nodded at Dion and his stone-faced second-in-command, and then turned his gaze back to the Savonett female. This time, he let his mouth curve.

“Marjani Savonett. What a pleasure to meet you at last.”

The blond male—Farr? Fern? Finn?—set a protective hand on her back and glared at Langdon.

Marjani stared back unblinking. She appeared unaffected, but he sensed the cauldron of fear and anger roiling inside her. It touched off an answering darkness in him. For a few seconds, the temptation to feed was almost irresistible, but he reined it in.

“Peace.” Cleia’s curt greeting made it clear she was unhappy with him. “I believe you have my mate’s sister. A misunderstanding, I’m sure.”

His brow lifted. She’d gone straight to the point, skipping over several pages of the polite thrust-and-parry that every fae learned at their mother’s knee.

The queen wasn’t just unhappy, she was furious.

“A misunderstanding?” He steepled his fingers and tapped them against his mouth. “No, my lady. Rosana do Rio is a guest.”

Lord Dion made a sharp, angry movement. Cleia set a calming hand on his arm. “Then invite me into your court,” she said.

Langdon considered that. But no, the queen too powerful to risk it.

He shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

With a growl, Dion lunged at him. Langdon simply faded into the shadows while Quade and the other guards surged forward. It took three of them to subdue the enraged river alpha. Meanwhile, do Mar, Marjani, and the other fada rushed to his aid.

Cleia raised her hands to the rising sun. A white-hot flame flared to life at the center of each palm. The queen didn’t produce fae balls, she simply drew on solar energy to reduce an enemy to ashes.

“Let my mate go,” she said in a low, terrible voice.

Langdon’s guards flinched at the bright light, even Quade, the oldest and most powerful. This was getting out of hand.

Langdon emerged from the shadows. “Then tell him to control his temper.”

The queen’s tawny eyes slit.

Fane—Langdon had recalled his name—cleared his throat. “My lady. My lords.” He glanced around at Cleia, Dion and Langdon. “If I may speak?”

Langdon inclined his head. “Go ahead.”

The sun fae queen waited until Dion gave a curt nod and stopped struggling against the guards’ hold. The flames winked out, and she brought her hands to her sides.

“We’ll listen,” she said. “After you release Lord Dion.”

Langdon gestured at Quade to release the big fada. “But I’ll have your word—all of you—that you’ll respect this negotiation. Attack again, and this meeting is over.”

When everyone had assented to Langdon’s terms, Fane slid his hands into his pockets and gave Langdon an easy smile. “If I heard you right, Rosana is a guest at your court.”

“Yes.”

“So as a guest, she’s free to go, yes?”

“She is.”

Fane gave Dion a significant look.

The river fada alpha regarded Langdon skeptically. “My sister is free to leave New Moon?”

“She is.”

“Say the words,” he growled.

“Your sister, Rosana do Rio, is free to leave my court whenever she wishes.”

Dion briefly closed his eyes. Then he gave a short nod. “See that you inform her.”

“However,” Langdon continued, “she has requested to remain.”

“What? You lying filho da puta .” The big river fada stepped forward, murder in his eyes. Wicked black claws sprouted from his fingertips.

“ Dion .” Cleia gripped his bulging bicep. “You know the fae can’t lie. Explain,” she snapped at Langdon.

“I simply granted her request. Lord Adric was being conveyed to a cell, and the young lady wished to remain with him. I was happy to oblige.”

Marjani gave a muted hiss, and Langdon’s nape prickled warily. The cougar fada might be small, almost delicate in appearance, but he hadn’t forgotten who’d killed Tyrus. He raised a challenging brow, daring her to break her word and give him grounds to capture her.

But she remained where she was, slender body strung tight, hands balled at her sides.

“Let Rosana go,” Cleia told him. “And Lord Adric, too. You have no right to keep either of them against their will.”

“No? Lord Adric attacked me in my own home. That gives me the right to exact any justice I choose. And the do Rio female is with him at her own request. Not a prisoner, but a guest.”

The queen’s eyes sparked dangerously. “You dare hold my mate’s sister? A woman under my court’s protection?”

He spread his hands. “I’m not an unreasonable man. For the right incentive, I could be persuaded to expel her from my court.”

“Name your price,” Dion said.

Langdon permitted himself a small smile. He jerked his head at Quade. “Leave us. All of you.”

The captain’s brows shot up, but he duly ordered the other warriors back through the portal. “I’ll be waiting on the other side,” he said with a warning glance at Cleia and Dion before following them.

Langdon drew the shadows around them like a thick cloak. What he was about to say was for no one else’s ears.

“You have my granddaughter at Rock Run. She’s not, in fact, dead as you and Lord Adric would like me to believe.”

Dion’s head jerked back. Beside him, do Mar’s fists slowly opened and closed. The two men exchanged a look.

“She’s alive,” the Rock Run alpha admitted.

At last. Langdon’s heart sped up. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his duster, kept his face impassive. “It’s time she take her place at my court.”

“No.” That was do Mar. “Absolutely not.”

Langdon eyed him. “She’s not even of your blood. Why do you care what happens to her?”

“She’s my daughter,” was the terse reply.

Langdon scowled. He’d never understand the fada and their primitive ways. “She’s my granddaughter, the blood of my blood. At New Moon, she’ll be treated as the princess she is.”

Another man stepped forward, the earth fada lieutenant who was Merry’s uncle. “She’s my blood relation, and I say no as well.”

“Those are my terms. Rosana do Rio for my granddaughter.”

“No,” Dion bit out.

Fane cocked his head. “You said yourself that Rosana is free to leave. Why should we bargain with you for something you’ve already granted?”

A wise man didn’t bargain when he held the upper hand. “As you say,” Langdon returned. “Peace, my lady. My lord.”

With a nod at the queen and her mate, he moved back, retreating into the shadows layer by layer until only his face was visible, a pale glimmer.

“You son of a bitch.” Dion stalked forward, matching him step for step. “I demand to see my sister. Now .”

“She’s made her choice.”

Dion swore and tried to grab him, but his fingers slashed impotently through the gray mist.

“Wait!” Marjani sprang forward. “What about my brother?”

“That,” Langdon said, “is not negotiable. His execution is set for the night of the new moon.”

Her honey-colored skin went ashen. “For trespassing?”

“He didn’t just trespass. He was here to kill me.”

“But—”

“More than that, the death of my son requires an equal sacrifice.”

“No! We were only defending ourselves. Tyrus came into our territory, stirring up trouble. Sent assassins after our people.”

“Invaded my den,” growled Jace Jones. “And kidnapped me and my mate.”

Langdon kept his gaze on the cougar fada. “The sentence hasn’t been finalized. You can still take your brother’s place.”

When she opened her mouth, he knew he had her—until her blond mate slapped a hand over her lips. “No!” he whispered urgently. “At least give us time to find another way.”

She hissed and twisted out of his grip.

“Marjani,” her mate said. “I’m begging you. Wait. You don’t have to decide right now.”

She gave him an agonized look. “I’m sorry, Fane. But I can’t—”

“Enough!” The white-hot flame flared in the queen’s palms again.

“The earth fada speak the truth. Our own investigations have confirmed that your son attacked the Baltimore fada. His death is no one’s fault but his own.

And in the months since, you’ve been seen multiple times in Baltimore.

If Lord Adric attacked you, it was because you provoked him into it.

Self-defense is not a crime. Moreover, you have no grounds to hold Rosana do Rio. ”

He sneered. “I should’ve known you’d take the fada’s side,” he said with a knowing glance at Dion.

The flame in Cleia’s palms burned brighter. Even with the sunglasses, he had to squint to protect his sensitive eyes. He receded deeper into the shadows.

“I’m warning you,” she said in a soft, dangerous voice. “Keep Adric and Rosana, and it will mean war.”

He let his mouth curve. “But to us, my lady, war is food.”