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Adric frowned at that—and then set it from his mind, because the prince had turned back to Rosana and Marjani.

Adric changed back to man but remained invisible. He rose to his feet, drawing Rosana up with him. Marjani shoved a dagger in his general direction, and he took it with a murmured thanks as she retrieved another dagger from the sheath around her neck.

Neoma conjured up a fae ball and aimed it at Marjani. “Stand down, fada.”

Adric sprang at Neoma, slashed her forearm. The fae ball winked out of existence as she hissed and twisted away.

Meanwhile, Marjani had slipped Rosana the third dagger. The two of them stood back to back. Rosana blinked down at the iron blade, still shaky from her vision.

Adric’s heart clenched. She needed food, rest.

He moved up beside her. “Leave,” he whispered. “We’ll cover you.”

She tightened her grip on the dagger and lunged at a night fae approaching from her other side, slashing it across his knife arm. “Together,” she growled as the warrior danced backward.

“Nice,” murmured Marjani.

“Thanks,” Rosana returned.

Adric’s mouth twitched. “Together,” he agreed. “Jani. What’s the plan?”

“Get the fuck out of this warded circle. There’s help on the other side.”

He nodded. “You two go first. I’ll keep them busy until you’re out. The night fae might be able to sense me, but they can’t be sure exactly where I am, especially if I keep moving.”

“Works,” said Marjani.

Rosana was more suspicious. “Promise you’ll come with us.”

He touched her cheek. “You have my word,” he said, and then sprinted across the clearing to kick over the fire pit. The dark fire blinked out as it hit the ground.

The night fae hissed and snarled. Fae balls appeared in more warriors’ hands. Adric slashed at the nearest one’s arm and darted away.

The two women edged toward the portal while Adric bedeviled the night fae, dashing from one side of the clearing to the other, slashing at arms, legs, faces—anything to draw attention from Rosana and Marjani.

A crack of lightning split the night. Wind whipped through the clearing, but the wards—or whatever was protecting the circle—kept out the rain.

“Capture him!” the prince commanded. “You can’t see him, but he’s bleeding emotion. Focus on that.”

The shadows deepened. Tendrils snaked through the night, seeking Adric. He instinctively froze. A glance over his shoulder told him that Rosana and Marjani had almost reached the portal.

He doggedly continued to zigzag through the night fae. But he was moving slower now, his limbs strangely heavy, as if the shadows had somehow taken on weight and were tugging on him.

Another bolt of lightning forced the shadows to retreat. Or maybe it wasn’t lightning, but the sun fae.

Hope surged in Adric. He slipped around a couple of night fae warriors to join Marjani and Rosana, but the prince had realized the two were about to escape.

He flung up a hand. “Marjani Savonett and Rosana do Rio!” he commanded in a voice thick with power. “Halt!”

Rosana checked, but Marjani spun around, one hand on a silver charm that hung from her quartz. For the first time, he realized she was wearing a protection charm.

A warrior started forward, fae ball in hand.

Adric rushed back to Rosana and his sister. “I can cloak all three of us,” he said. “Get ready to run like hell.” He slipped an arm around each of their shoulders.

The portal wavered.

“Hurry!” he said. “Before it closes.”

The shadows surrounded them. Tendrils snaked toward them.

Marjani shoved the protection charm at them and they retreated. But the portal had closed.

“Fuck,” she muttered.

Then the sky lit like someone had torn back a curtain to let in the noon sun. As the night fae hissed in pain, the wards broke with an audible crack, sending a surge of energy that forced the three of them to stagger back.

Rain sluiced down.

“Go!” Adric urged the two women forward again.

More bolts of light slashed through the night. Queen Cleia strode into the clearing, her body a sunlit column, bolts of gold shooting from her fingertips.

For a few seconds, everyone—even Prince Langdon—stared at her, mouths ajar. Then the night fae snapped to life.

But more people poured into the clearing behind the queen.

Sun fae. River fada. And Jace, Fane, and a pack of Baltimore wolves with Zuri at the head.

“Now these kind of odds I can live with,” his sister said.

Adric dropped the cloak so the three of them were visible again. The earth fada surrounded them, and they prepared to fight as fae on each side armed themselves with fiery balls of light.

Cleia planted herself at the center. With a wave of her hand, a fireball exploded at Langdon’s feet. “I warned you to set the fada free, my lord. Now I’m here to demand their release. And think before you answer. I have two hundred more warriors itching for a fight.”

Langdon conjured up a seething mass of shadows and doused the fireball.

“Shadows blot out the sun,” he returned. “It’s the night of the new moon. Do you think you can beat me?”

Cleia raised her hands. Behind her, Dion placed his hands on her shoulders. Something flashed between the two of them. Twin suns sparked to life in her hands.

“But sunlight chases away the shadows.” The glowing balls in her hands grew brighter.

Langdon recovered first. He took two steps forward, face pale and eyebrows glittering. Two black-clad warriors flanked him, fae balls glowing in their palms.

Cleia raised her hands higher. An unearthly flame danced in her palms, lighting her gold, silver and copper hair so that it shone like living fire.

“Tell your guards to stand down,” she gritted, “or I’ll turn them into ashes.”

“Try it.” Langdon pointed a finger at Cleia, but the rest of them had had time to shrug off whatever spell he’d cast.

Dion leapt to block him. In his hand was a dagger shimmering with magic.

Langdon flicked his fingers at the dagger, trying to change it to something else, but the bespelled dagger remained just that—a dagger.

Dion lashed out at Langdon, fada-fast. The prince only just managed to leap clear of the slashing blade.

Dion stalked after him, his eyes pure, molten silver.

The prince conjured up a whirling wall of twigs and leaves, but Dion slashed his way through them.

Meanwhile, the priests and priestesses had melted into the shadows so that only their eyes were visible.

Two wolves came at Langdon from either direction, but he evaded them by sinking into the shadows himself. More twigs and leaves swirled around Cleia, but before they could turn into anything, she incinerated them with another bolt.

A second, more powerful explosion ripped the night fae from the shadows. This time, Langdon was ready. He threw up a shade of leaves and other debris to protect him and his people from the worst of the light.

But Adric and the other fada had engaged them, he and Marjani fighting neck-and-neck with Rui and Tiago, while nearby, Zuri and the other wolves took down another couple of night fae.

Adric could see the moment Langdon realized that even if he survived, he was going to take heavy casualties, including losing most of the court’s priests and priestesses.

He threw up his arms and a powerful wind blasted everyone except Cleia to the opposite side of the circle. But when they jumped to their feet, he ordered his own people to stand down, and then turned to Cleia.

“Peace, my lady.” He kept his hands by his sides, palms out, in a proudly open posture. “Rosana do Rio is yours. I ask only one thing in return—that you grant me the rights I’m owed as a grandfather.”

Dion moved next to Cleia. “A grandfather?”

“Yes. I demand the right to know the daughter of my youngest son. You and your clan have no right to keep me from the blood of my blood.”

“Fuck your rights.” Adric shoved his way next to Dion. “You’ll have to go through me and every member of my clan first,” he spat.

But Dion nodded as if he was considering it. “You’ll release my sister without obligation?” While he was speaking, Dion undid the silver bracelet around his wrist and tossed it to Rosana, who quickly clasped it around her own wrist.

Adric shot him a furious look, but something in the other alpha’s expression made him hold back.

“Yes,” Langdon said. “She’s given me an invaluable piece of information. I consider any debt between us paid in full. That is,” he said to Rosana. “If I can’t persuade you to remain as court Seer?”

Rosana couldn’t conceal a shudder. “No,” she said curtly. “But I refuse to leave without Marjani and Adric.”

“Rosana,” Dion said with a scowl.

Her jaw set. “He’s my mate.”

Cleia spoke. “You owe the fada a boon, Prince Langdon.”

“My sister’s life,” Adric said.

“And Lord Adric’s,” Rosana quickly added. “We’ll accept nothing else.”

“Come,” Cleia said. “That seems reasonable. After all, this was started by your own son.”

Langdon eyed Adric coldly. Adric had a sudden insight—the prince was searching for a way to save face in front of his people. But more than that, he truly wanted to get to know Merry.

And it was Merry’s birthright. She had the right to make her own decision.

“As for your granddaughter,” Adric added, “as far as I’m concerned, the choice is hers. Not yours, and not Lord Dion’s.”

Rui do Mar made a sharp movement, but Dion nodded at Adric. “Go on.”

Adric dropped his voice so that only Langdon, Cleia, Rui, Dion and Rosana could hear.

“When Merry comes of age, then you’ll invite her to visit the court.

I’m sure Lord Dion will agree that the choice at that point will be hers.

But for now, leave her where she is. She’s safe, happy.

The river fada have done a good job of protecting her, and the queen keeps an eye on her as well. Too many people are interested in her.”

A muscle in the prince’s cheek worked. His gaze slid to the nearby night fae, straining to hear the low-voiced conversation.

“Very well,” he said. “If you and Lord Dion both swear that when my granddaughter comes of age, the choice is hers.”