Wondering perhaps, who it is that catches his attention every now and then.
He’s never seen me. He doesn’t even know I exist.
But he can sense me—or the daemon inside him can.
It’s inside me too, and it yearns to be whole.
Thousands of years ago it stalked these lands. Death, they called it. The Everlasting Night. The Primordial Darkness. A creature so malevolent and powerful that even the Old Ones feared it.
A band of fae warriors spent their entire lives hunting it, and when they finally captured it, they had to consume fragments of its body and soul in order to defeat it. It cannot die. It cannot be contained. They were forced to venture to the ends of the world in order to separate its desperate soul, and I wonder if those long ago fae felt the crush of this hunger, this need, this yearning to reunite.
Somewhere along the way, some of them fell prey to its lure.
They hunted their own, consuming the fragments of that Darkness.
Now only a few of us remain.
My father, who birthed this evil within me, and myself, veiled and cloaked from his eyes with the best illusions any fae can wield. There are two others, I think, somewhere far to the west and east, but I suspect a sea stands between us for I can rarely feel them.
Of the five Darkyn souls trapped within me, only two of them ever give me any peace.
Thalia slides her fingers through mine, and I relish every inch of heat within her.
“As the days turn, we celebrate the end of harvest and the beginning of the long chill,” Lucidia of Ravenal calls as she slowly pushes to her feet and moves toward the torch that awaits her.
Tonight the Veil begins to thin between worlds, and will not strengthen until the third night. Pocket realms may open. Strange creatures sometimes slip between worlds. In the ancient days, before the fae locked the Old Ones in their prison worlds, they hunted nights like this.
“As the Veils thins,” calls Maren of Aska, lifting her torch, “we light the fires to protect against the night. We bring praise for the light. We ask for protection from Blessed Maia.”
“As the night falls,” Adaia says as she steps forward, fire spinning to life in her hands, her skin brightening as if she’s shaken off my shadows, “we three queens offer our protection against all of those who hold wicked and sinister thoughts in their hearts. We three queens offer protection, light and strength. Blessed be.”
“Blessed be,” echo Lucidia and Maren.
The other two set their torches to their bonfires, but Adaia waves her hand and flames shoot up in the dry kindling, consuming it like a blazing inferno.
Power. Light. Protection.
It makes for a flamboyant show and she’s reveling in this moment.
I exchange a glance with Prince Kyrian of Stormlight from across the clearing. He offers me a faint smile and an arched brow. Adaia couldn’t have been blunter if she’d tried—in her mind, both Kyrian and I are an abomination, an unnatural blight on the Seelie world.
Queens rule.
The line of power is passed through the matrilineal line.
And if she had her way, she would crush us back into the swamps she suggests we both come from.
We three queens.
Indeed.
Cheers erupt through the gathered fae as the bonfires roar. Music strikes up; a merry jig. And then a host of the fae are being swept onto the grassy plain before the fires.
It’s like a discordant note against my soul. I’m still cold. Still distant.
I need to get moving to force the blood through my starved veins.
“Where are you going?” Thalia asks as she darts in my path. “Don’t you dare simply vanish. We’re supposed to be waiting for the princess of Ravenal.”
“I need a moment.”
“Just dance with Princess Lucere, Thiago. Once.” Thalia’s eyes promise murder if I ruin her plans. “Talk to her. That’s all we’ve promised. You may like her.”
This was the price I promised to pay all those years ago when I took the throne. Anything for my people. Anything for my mother’s kingdom.
Anything for those who serve me.
“Thalia.” Just give me a fucking moment.
Her face brightens into a wide smile. “Here they come. Paste a smile on your face. Picture Adaia sipping on shepherd’s rot, if that helps. Be smooth. Be charming.” She gives me a look. “I know you have it in you.”
Too late to make an escape. I square my shoulders. So be it. Let’s get this over with.
But my steps are slow, my heart like lead in my chest, as I start toward the Ravenal delegation with Thalia on my arm.
They see me coming.
A young woman straightens abruptly as if she sucks in a sharp breath. She wears white from head-to-toe, and her long, raven hair is bound into a glossy mound atop her head. Not a single strand of it dares hang loose.
Regal. Beautiful. Daring.
Princess Lucere.
I swallow the hard lump in my throat and force a smile to my lips. “She looks like an ice princess.”
“She’s… reserved,” Thalia admits.
“And how are you all going to get along with her?” There’s a camaraderie within my court that feels like home. To throw this walking icicle into their midst will dash away those careless smiles, and teasing tones.
It’s my one respite.
The one place I can simply be.
“If you can manage, we can manage. Now, is that your best smile?”
I shake my head. She’s incorrigible—
And just at that moment, the dancers part and a woman appears, as if she’s stepped directly from my dreams.
Her.
My breath catches in my chest and somehow I can’t move.
A woman gowned in starlight. Her skirts are of the darkest blue, with diamond chips woven through the gauze so it almost seems as if she glimmers like the night sky. A silver mask gleams with gemstones, catching the light as she tilts her face to the bonfires.
It’s not the dress that captures my attention.
It’s not the mask.
It’s not even her beauty.
It’s the shape of her mouth and chin—
The same mouth that’s been haunting my dreams for centuries.
I can’t move. I can barely breathe.
Is it a mirage?
Is it her?
Is she the promise of light that Maia sent to me so long ago?
I have to know.
“Thiago?” Thalia’s voice is distant behind me as I plunge through the dancers, searching for the woman of my dreams.
Nothing else matters.
4
5
THIAGO
Morning light creeps over the clearing, gilding the pair of us. Vi’s shoulders rise and fall as she sleeps in my arms. There’s something about the innocent way her lashes lie closed over her eyes that makes me want to hold her here forever, where I can protect her.
My fingers trail down her flank. Last night was never meant to happen. I’d wanted time to woo her. Time to get to know her.
But the second the silk of her dress slid down her body, revealing smooth skin the color of honey, every plan I’d ever had was driven from my mind.
Her lashes flutter, her hip shifting in response to the stroke of my fingers. Not quite asleep, not quite fully awake.
But completely aware of my touch.