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CHAPTER FIFTY

T ristan was here .

Cassandra almost couldn’t believe it. She still wasn’t convinced that she hadn’t been eaten by those beasts and that his arrival wasn’t some crazy, afterlife vision.

Especially since she couldn’t even see him right now. She’d insisted he hide beneath his camouflaging feathers as they trekked back to Mireille’s shop. Cassandra had no idea what the Koenig’s policy was on individuals breaking into Tartarus without an official sentence. And she wasn’t about to find out.

It was late, a few hours from dawn, so she didn’t pass many other prisoners. And the few she did dipped furtive glances toward their feet. They didn’t want to be caught out this late any more than she did.

The apothecary sign creaked and the bell jingled as Cassandra pushed the door open, then led Tristan up into the small apartment.

“Mireille? Ronin?” she called out as they stepped into the living room.

“Cass?” Mireille strode down the hallway, pushing her arms through the sleeves of a black silk robe, then fluffing her copper waves over her shoulders. She frowned as she drug her silver gaze over Cassandra’s wet hair, clothes, and feathers. “By the Creator, what happened to you?”

Ronin tugged his eye patch into place as he emerged from his bedroom, shirtless in loose gray sleep pants. His eye darted to Mireille’s bare legs then quickly back to Cassandra. “Everything okay?”

“You can come out now,” Cassandra said.

Tristan unfurled his wings and Mireille shrieked, pulling her robe tighter. Ronin stumbled, catching himself on the arm of the couch and releasing a long, drawn-out curse.

“Nice place,” Tristan said, nodding his head and surveying the tiny apartment.

Mireille snapped her mouth shut, then bowed at the waist. “Your Highness, welcome.” She rose, blinking furiously, as if she had a million questions and couldn’t decide where to start. “Can I…get you some tea?”

Ronin shot her a glare. “ That’s what you landed on?” Mireille sneered at him. “How about what in the name of the Creator are you doing here ? Or how did you get past the wards and through the mists ? Or why is Cassandra soaking wet ?” He turned back to Tristan. “Or what in the actual fuck are you doing here ?”

Tristan laughed, clapping a hand on Ronin’s muscled shoulder. He squeezed it with an appreciative murmur. “Training time’s paying off.” He settled into a chair at the dining table, angling his wings over the back and resting his elbows on the surface. “A cup of tea would be wonderful, Mireille. I assume you’re Mireille?”

“Yes, that’s me,” Mireille answered, dazed, as if she had no control of the words coming out of her mouth. “I’m Mireille. Been Mireille my whole life. My last name is Valette. Actually, it’s Valois, but I changed it when I was twenty-one and I have no idea why that’s important right now. It’s not really, I… Right. Tea.” She padded into the kitchen, filled a teapot, then hung it over the hearth and used a match to light a fire.

Ronin sank into the chair next to Tristan. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t leave Cassandra to face the terrors of Tartarus alone. No matter how much companionship she had.” Tristan speared her with a pleading glance. “I’m only sorry it took me so long to figure out how to breach the wards.” Cassandra gifted him a watery smile.

Ronin glanced toward Mireille, shame tugging down the corners of his mouth. “No one knows how to get through the wards except the Imperial delegation that comes for sentencing. Trust me, I’ve looked into it.” Mireille’s back stiffened, but she didn’t turn, focused her attention on sprinkling tea leaves into the strainers. “How did you find out?”

“It has to do with the second reason I’m here.” He motioned to Cassandra. “Come over here, Daredevil, you need to hear this, too.”

Cassandra pulled out the chair next to Tristan.

“Nope.” He pulled her into his lap, tucking her wings against her back and wrapping an arm around her waist. “This is your seat for the foreseeable future.” He planted a kiss on her temple.

Ronin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “There are going to be rules . This apartment is really fucking tiny and the walls are thinner than paper.”

“Is that a challenge, Matakos?” Tristan grinned wide enough to expose his sharp canines and Cassandra fought an urge to slide her tongue down one.

Mireille joined them at the table, passing around mugs of tea, while Tristan regaled them with the incredible story of how he’d breached the wards. Of who the Koenig actually was.

And of the information they needed to pull from the male’s memories.

“So, you had no problems at all in those mists?” Ronin asked, sipping his tea. It was deliciously bitter, just the way he liked it. Mireille hadn’t forgotten his preferences. His chest squeezed.

“It was a little disorienting, but I never lost track of my direction.” Tristan held Cassandra’s chin and kissed her lips. “Like a divine presence was guiding me exactly where I needed to be.” Her feathers rustled.

Ronin fought an urge to roll his eye. Like this shoebox of an apartment needed that kind of fucking energy.

He looked toward Mireille, seeking backup to protest this disgusting display of affection, but she was all starry-eyed over the Prince and his Turned lover. Wistful in a way he’d never seen before.

It twisted him up inside.

“Pure dragon-fire to burn through the wards,” Ronin marveled. “How did no one know of this?”

Mireille scoffed. “There’s only one dragon in all of Ethyrios, and it’s been chained within Typhon Mountain for centuries. That’s how.”

Her snarky tone heated his blood, but he ignored it as he recounted Tristan’s crazy-ass plans. “So, we grab the name from the Koenig’s memory, you use that fancy cuff to tell Cael Zephyrus, and then he and the dragon come here with the Teles Chrysos to burn down the wards and free us? Any chance we can make this happen before Cassandra’s appeal in six days?”

Mireille cut in. “Don’t forget there’s still the blood vow to consider. Even if Cassandra’s free of the prison, she’ll be connected to the Koenig until the bargain is fulfilled. One of them must die by the other’s hand.”

“I wouldn’t leave here without killing him anyway,” Cassandra said with a murderous sneer.

Ronin knew she was thinking of those humans down in the Kennel, knew she wouldn’t abandon them to torture and captivity. He admired her for it. Her training had been steadily progressing—especially since they’d added Silas to the roster—but she’d still need a miracle to defeat the Koenig.

Though, Prince Tristan fucking Erabis was sitting in their living room. If that wasn’t a miracle, then they didn’t exist.

Tristan grimaced. “I hate the idea of you fighting him, Cass. But if we can bring down the wards beforehand, at least you’d have access to your wind.”

Cassandra bit her lip. “I don’t even know how to use it. It snuffed out as soon as I was Turned.”

“That might help, actually,” Tristan chuckled. “Untamed elemental magic from a newly Turned Fae? Creator help him.”

“So, we stick to our training plan.” Mireille nodded toward Tristan. “With the addition of a fourth instructor.”

She wrapped slim fingers around her mug, and Ronin’s cock stirred. Not for a single moment these past few days had he forgotten how they’d felt on him. That glorious madness that had overtaken them during the sparring session. What he’d let her do to him.

I win .

She’d won something. But fuck if he knew what.

“We can use your camouflaging wings as well,” Mireille added, then told Tristan about the dance she’d arranged at World’s End tomorrow night. She turned to Ronin. “He can sneak into the office and search those ledgers while you’re downstairs distracting Wormwood. And you and I—” her gaze shot to Cassandra “—can take advantage of the night for a new purpose. I’ll lure the Koenig into the back room for a private dance. Where I’ll dose him with a sleeping tonic so you can hunt through his memories for the dragon’s name.”

Ronin slammed his tea down, hard enough to spill and burn his fingers. “Absolutely not. A private dance? No way.”

Mireille threw her shoulders back, matching his fury. “Do you have a better idea of how to get Cassandra access to him before her appeal?”

Ronin doubled down. “He could hurt you—or worse—if you get caught. I don’t want you to do this.”

“I told you before and I’ll tell you again,” Mireille seethed, “it’s not your decision.”

Cassandra swiveled toward Ronin, Tristan’s fingers tangled in her hair. As if the Prince couldn’t stop himself from touching her. It ignited Ronin’s already combustible fury. “Ronin?—”

“Do whatever the fuck you all want!” he roared, and they flinched.

He was done with this fucking day, this fucking week.

This fucking life .

And if he had to be subjected to Tristan and Cass for one more second… The sight of them, reunited and so disgustingly in love, made him want to stab his other eye out.

He pushed up from the table, then stomped to his room, throwing the door open before Mireille’s voice stilled him.

“You’re bunking in my hallway now,” she called out. “We’re giving your room to these two.”

He whipped his head over his shoulder. “Are you serious?”

Tristan waggled his eyebrows. “Unless you want to sleep with me? Though I will warn you, friend, I’ve finally got my female back in my arms after too much time apart and I am ready . I can’t promise I won’t roll over in the middle of the night and go to town on your leg.”

Cassandra and Mireille’s uproarious laughter only made Ronin angrier.

He may have come to Tartarus as a commander, but these females were showing him just how little power he actually had. Maybe it was better to play the obedient foot soldier and let them lead.

That sounds good to me , his wolf offered. Especially if Mireille keeps giving you rewards like the one she gave you in ? —

That wasn’t a reward , Ronin snarled into his mind. That was a power play.

She can play with our power all she likes.

You’re the fucking worst.

He stalked into his new bedroom and slammed the door shut.