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A hint of silver and iron in the air made her lip curl in a silent snarl. Her muscles coiled in preparation. The fog coalesced, moved—and a tall blond man stood beside her.

“Follow me,” he muttered without looking at her, his lips barely moving.

Fane? She did a double take and hissed angrily.

His strong dark brows snapped together. “God’s balls, woman—don’t argue. The huldufólk are looking for you.” When she gave him a blank look, he said, “The goblins and a few of the king’s tame elves. They’ll be on you any second. Now come.” He strode off.

She hesitated, afraid it was a trap, but Fane was clearly pissed off—at her. If it were a trick, wouldn’t he at least try to exert some charm?

And she needed to get inside. Corban was here. She was sure of that.

She loped after him. Fane waited until she caught up, then stooped to whisper, “Shift. Most of them can’t tell a fada from a human.”

She nodded and obeyed—and then almost didn’t make it when the cat blindsided her, fighting to remain in control.

No. I am strong. A picture of claws and fangs flashed in her mind. I will fight these goblins.

For several heart-stopping seconds, she wavered halfway between cougar and human. That was bad. If you got caught between shifts, you died, a twisted half-animal, half-human monster.

If she hadn’t taken the time to replenish her quartz, she might not have made it. She drew hard on the crystals’ energy, determined to complete the shift.

And then she was a woman, crouched at Fane’s feet, chest heaving.

He glanced around uneasily. “Bloody hell, can you hurry it up?”

She dragged in a breath. Holy mother, that had been close. But there was no time to think about it. Quickly, she pulled on cargo pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, not bothering with underwear or shoes.

“Ready.” She tucked her quartz into her shirt’s neck.

Fane wrapped a wiry arm around her shoulders. She stiffened, but he muttered, “I’m a wayfarer.”

“So it was you following me.”

A curt nod. “Keep touching me at all times, and they won’t see either of us.”

He waited until she jerked her chin in assent and then set his palm to a crack in the weathered volcanic rock. The rock melted away to reveal an arched doorway. Together, they stepped through into a large tunnel.

Marjani’s eyes widened. Instead of the black she’d expected, the curved walls were a smooth and bluish-white, like the inside of an ice cave.

Silver fae lights floated near the glossy ceiling, and bright blue tiles paved the tunnel floor.

The temperature was comfortable, like a warm spring day, and the air crisp and clean-smelling.

Fane took her hand and crept forward, following the wall to the west. They passed a double door opening into a huge room at the center of the maze.

“That’s the great hall,” he murmured.

It was a huge, intricately-shaped hexagon that reminded her of a giant snowflake.

At the center, several hundred chic, glittering fae dined at linen-covered tables.

Ethereal silver chandeliers floated overhead, and ice sculptures of magical creatures were scattered here and there.

From hidden speakers emanated dreamy music, intermingling with the murmur of voices and the clink of fine crystal.

Through the tables moved slim, pointy-eared elves, filling glasses and ensuring no one’s plate was empty.

Marjani’s feet slowed. Other than the few times she’d been to the sun fae court, she’d never seen so many fae in one place.

Like sun fae, the ice fae’s skin came in every shade from translucent white to deep brown, but their hair was a variation on snow and ice: white, silver, blond, with the occasional shimmering gold or red.

And every single one of them was model-beautiful, like Fane.

The clothes were incredible—stylish, fae-tailored creations that would cost a year’s pay in the human world—but it was the jewels that made her stare. Ice-cube-sized diamonds. Fiery opals. Blue and purple sapphires, and chunky green emeralds.

With his single diamond stud, Fane was a model of restraint.

“Keep moving,” he hissed, and with a start, she realized she’d slowed down to stare.

She sped up, moving silent as a wraith alongside him. To her amazement, no one even glanced their way. It was as if the two of them were invisible.

They traveled another few hundred yards before reaching a short hall with several doors. Fane stopped at the end of the hall in front of a green door and ushered her inside.

“We can talk,” he said in a normal tone as he locked the door and dropped his jacket on a chair. “The rooms are soundproof and warded. The fae don’t trust each other worth a damn.”

He was wearing skinny black jeans and a baby blue shirt that matched his eyes. He raised his arms in a bone-cracking stretch that strained the soft material across his chest. Marjani couldn’t help taking in his body, lean and powerful in the form-fitting clothes.

He brought his arms down. “That was too damn close.”

“Yeah,” Marjani said, still staring at his chest.

His lips edged up and their eyes met.

She looked away first. “This is your room?”

“When I’m at court.”

“It’s…nice.” It was—a small, cozy space.

A walnut sleigh bed with a moss-green comforter hugged one wall, and three sparkling gold fae lights floated overhead, warming the creamy walls.

In addition to the plain wood chair that held his jacket, there was an easy chair with a small round table between them.

Through a partially open door, she saw a bathroom with a shower and huge oval tub.

He moved a shoulder in a half-shrug. “It suits me well enough.”

“You don’t live here in Iceland?”

“Gods, no. I spend as little time here as possible. I’m a quarter-fae.” His handsome mouth twisted. “They don’t treat me much better than they treat the fada. Which is why you’d better talk. Now.”

Suddenly he loomed over her. She stared back, not betraying by a flicker of an eyelash that her heart had sped up. The friendly, easy-going man of the pub was gone, replaced by a steely-eyed fae. But she’d been threatened—and worse—by men a hell of a lot more dangerous.

She held her ground and palmed the switchblade.

He blew out a breath. “I’m not your enemy, Jani.”

“No?”

“No. In fact, I fucking stuck my neck out for you. Do you know what the goblins would have done if they caught you? They swarm over you like a pack of rats.” A muscle flexed in his jaw.

“You might kill a few of them, but they just keep coming, clawing and biting until you’re half-conscious and bleeding in a dozen places, and then they bind you and put you in an iron cage. ”

She swallowed. “I guess I owe you one.”

He nodded, and she was reminded that it was never a good thing to owe a fae. But somehow, she kept forgetting that Fane had fae blood. He seemed too warm…too human . The only fae she’d known had been cold-hearted pricks, with the possible exception of Cleia, the sun fae queen.

“You can start by telling me why you’re here.”

He was so close she could see all the gradations of blue in his eyes—the navy rim, the silver that streaked his sky-colored irises.

She drew a ragged breath, and his face softened.

“Jani?” He touched her cheek.

She jerked away and he took a step back. She released the switchblade and held it loose and ready at her side.

“I’m not here for that,” she said evenly. But inside she was trembling. She edged toward the doorway.

“Fair enough.”

But his arm came up, and she dropped into a fighting crouch. “Back off. Or I’ll take my chances out there.”

“Easy, love. I was just going to invite you to sit down.” He pointed to the easy chair. “Let’s have a conversation without all this snapping and snarling.”

She growled but retracted the switchblade, although she didn’t put it back in her pocket. “Okay. Fine.”

She needed to know more, and Fane seemed willing to help her. Shrugging out of the backpack, she sat down, the pack at her feet, the switchblade in her hand.

Fane hung his jacket in a small walk-in closet and indicated her backpack. “Want me to put that in the closet for you?”

“No.” She pulled it closer. If she had to leave in a hurry, the pack was coming with her.

His mouth curved. “You’re a prickly little hedgehog, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. You have a problem with that?”

He shrugged. “And yet I found you creeping along the outer wall with a horde of goblins after you.”

“They didn’t find me, did they?”

He shook his head. “By Hades, I can’t tell if you’re na?ve or foolish.”

“Not na?ve.” Her flat voice made him raise a brow.

“No, you’re not, are you?” Sympathy shaded his voice.

What did he know? Shame twisted in her belly. She scowled.

If this model-pretty man dared to pity her, she just might have to prick him with one of her blades. Not to hurt him—at least, not much—but to teach him that Marjani Savonett didn’t need anyone’s pity.

But all he said was, “This isn’t your world, Jani. You might not be na?ve, but you don’t know how the ice fae court works.”

“Then tell me.”

He took two bottles of pale ale from a cooling unit and handed her one. “How about I start by telling you why you’re here?”

“I’m all ears.” Shoving the switchblade back into her pocket, she twisted off the cap and took a sip.

He sat on the wood chair—or rather, sprawled, his long legs stretched out, his bottle of ale in one long-fingered hand. “To spring the big black wolf fada from his cage.”

She jolted. “His cage ?”