Lord of the Hunt

Court of Annwyn - 2

by

Shona Husk

Chapter 1

Taryn gripped the shoulder strap of her bag tighter and inhaled her first breath of Annwyn air—well, the first she remembered.

The sky was crystalline blue and achingly perfect, the grass so green it almost hurt her eyes. Even the air was sweet and thrumming with a magic that swept over her skin and made her fingers tingle. It was every fairy tale made real. When humans longed for perfection, this is what they dreamed of.

The heart of Annwyn lay across the lush lawn ahead of her—a castle made from trees, turrets woven from branches, leaves like pennants dancing in a breeze that she could barely feel. This was her birthright. Her fairy heritage. Her true home. She was not going to cry from the beauty of it. Taryn sniffed and blinked.

But being born in Annwyn didn’t mean she belonged here. She knew next to nothing about the Court. Her mother’s crash course in etiquette and names and politics had made her dizzy.

She took a step away from the two giant trees that formed the doorway, then hesitated. She could turn around, cross the veil, and run back to the mortal world where everything was familiar. The urge to run made her heart beat faster.

Would her mother still be waiting on the other side?

Her stomach tightened and the air became cloying, sticking in the back of her throat. She couldn’t turn back now. The mortal world was changing because the power in Annwyn wasn’t secure. If she was on the wrong side of the veil when the Prince took the throne, she would die. And if she didn’t secure a pardon for her father, he would die too.

The game the Ladies had been playing on the lawn had slowed, and while none looked directly at her, they were talking about her. She was sure of it. They would be wondering who she was and why she was here.

Taryn lifted her chin and swept past them as if she had every right to be there. She did—maybe more than them. The Prince had invited her to come to Court, and that was the kind of invitation one didn’t ignore.

Get close to the King.

Watch your back.

Be careful making deals.

Trust no one. Not even the Prince.

She repeated the words like a mantra. Her mother had kissed her good-bye and sent her through the doorway. Alone. Her mother could have come with her, not to Court, as she wasn’t welcome, but to Annwyn. However, she refused to leave Chalmer in exile alone. If Taryn couldn’t secure a pardon, her parents would die together, but at least they would know their daughter was safe.

It wasn’t much of a comfort to Taryn.

Pressure squeezed her heart.

The castle loomed in front of her. Closer, she could see the leaves were edged in gold and some branches were bare. She might have only just arrived, but she knew that wasn’t right; the magic was starting to weaken. She suppressed a shiver and tried not to think about what would happen if she failed.

She had to succeed. Her parents’ lives depended on her. How cruel was that? She’d lived all her twenty-one years in the mortal world, pretending to be human. Now she had to pretend to be fairy.

A couple of pretty men dressed in shades of blue and red looked over as she passed. A mortal would have gawked at such unrestrained beauty—the sharp cheekbones and pale eyes—but she saw the calculations and curiosity. The blond one took a step toward her.

Her heart stopped as fear took hold. No. She wouldn’t talk to anyone, not yet. Let them wonder a little longer.

She flicked the man a cool glare and looked away without breaking stride. She could do this. How long would it take to get the pardon? A day, two at most? Her mother’s words echoed:

You will have novelty value.

Be careful who you are seen with.

Play the game, but don’t get caught.

Perhaps when she was introduced to the King she could ask. Then it would be done. Her parents could come to Annwyn. They could wait out the power shift and then she could return to her fake mortal life. She missed home already. It was so close, just through the doorway and across the veil, and yet it was a world away. Time moved differently there too. Perhaps it was night already and she’d wasted a day walking from the doorway to the castle.

Her toes scrunched in her shoes and her stomach spun like a bad carnival ride—she wanted to get off but couldn’t. She had to play to the end and hope she won. For everyone’s sake.

* * *

The Court was unusually tense and crowded. Verden didn’t think he’d ever seen an official session quite so full. There were Lords and Ladies from wall to wall, trampling the delicate grass floor and jostling for a position closer to the King. They weren’t here to see the woman fall from grace for being unable to pay a debt—she’d agreed to be a shadow servant for a year and day—and they weren’t here to see the divorce granted or the intent to wed approved.

Verden came only because he was required. If someone’s honor abandoned them, he’d have to bring them to heel. Enforcing order at Court was just one part of his job. Plenty of times he’d also had to cross the veil to catch a fairy who’d thought to escape the King’s justice in the mortal world, although that was happening less and less. Everyone could sense the change in the air. Summer was fading from the Court.

Verden’s two white hunting dogs yawned and snapped their teeth. He knew exactly how they felt. Above his head, leaves rustled and a few white flower petals drifted past. Everyone was acting as if it was just another day at Court, even though it wasn’t.

The King had lines of tension at the corners of his eyes that had not been there before his Queen’s betrayal. That was why the magic was failing. When the King and Queen were in disharmony, so was the realm. And danger in Annwyn meant danger for mortals as well—plague and death would cross the veil. Without the proper balance, millions could die.

The King was keeping Annwyn together as best he could, but the lines were drawn: King Gwyn and his heir, Felan, versus the Queen Eyra and the person she wanted to put on the throne. No one knew who that was yet, and so far, most seemed to support the King and his son, but that didn’t mean things wouldn’t change in the space of a mortal heartbeat.

In public, the King acted as if there was no ill feeling. The Queen, on the other hand, could barely wipe the contempt off her face. She’d once been the life of every party and the object of desire for many Lords. Now she was colder than a snowstorm in the darkest depth of winter and twice as bitter.

Of course, Verden couldn’t remember the last time the Court had been thrust into winter. The King’s battle for the throne had happened long before Verden was born. Few here were old enough to remember, yet all knew what was coming. He glanced around the Court. Many people were returning from the mortal world in preparation for the power shifting. Everyone hoped for a smooth transition with little disturbance to the magic. It was a false hope.

The Prince wasn’t ready to rule, and the Queen was doing her damnedest to make her husband suffer for the death of her lover, Shea, and, by default, the whole of the Court. Icy bitch.

A hush rippled through the crowd. There was a swish of silks and lace and the tinkle of jewels as the Lords and Ladies moved aside. The young son of a Lord dressed in the uniform of a page stepped forward.

The lad bobbed his head at the King and Queen. “Court, Prince, Lords and Ladies. May I present the Lady Taryn merch Arlea.” He stepped out of the way and a woman in a pale green dress stepped forward.

Her clothing was plain by Court standards. The cut was too calm and lacking in decoration, and the sheer wrap that draped her shoulders was far too modest. However, her face captivated him. Delicate. With the sharp cheekbones that spoke of fairy heritage. She curtsied, and there was a lack of ease, as if she’d never been before a King. As she lifted her chin, Verden saw the orange of her eyes, the palest drop of color filled with doubts and fear she didn’t mask.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd at the name.

Taryn merch Arlea. Verden scrambled to think of who she was, then stopped as he realized who Arlea was and the power she’d once wielded. Arlea had been on the King’s Council. When her husband had been exiled to the mortal world, she’d chosen to follow. Who would willingly leave Annwyn and give up their status in the process? A shudder traced down his back at the idea of being sent away from Annwyn. The mortal world was for humans and banished or exiled fairies.

While the King had been furious with Arlea’s choice, he hadn’t included her in her husband’s punishment. She was free to return but hadn’t been seen in Court since leaving with Chalmer. Yet Arlea must have returned to Annwyn at least once to give birth; otherwise, Taryn would’ve been a changeling, and his dogs would’ve sensed her crossing over.

But why was she here? Was she part of Felan’s plan to claim the throne?

The King beckoned her forward and held out his hand. A good sign. The Queen watched, her eyes dark and cold.

Taryn stepped forward with only a slight hesitation, as if she was now aware that she was being watched and judged. She leaned over to kiss the King’s heavy silver ring and a tendril of light brown hair slid over her shoulder. As much as he wanted to watch the movement of that lock of hair over her skin, Verden dragged his gaze to Gwyn. There was glimmer in his eyes that had been absent for too long. One Verden recognized, and when he glanced to the Lords in the chamber, many also watched with the same hungry gaze.

She was new, a fresh face in a jaded and almost immortal Court. At dinner tonight, plenty would vie for a dance and more. She didn’t even know the hounds were heating up for a hunt. There would be wagers placed on who would score a place in her bed first.

The Court was going to eat her alive and laugh while they did it. The memories of his first days at Court, fresh from the farms on the outskirts of Annwyn, the beauty, the glamour, the cruelty as many had tried to trick and trap him as part of a game or gamble, resurfaced as he watched her. He’d showed them, beaten them at their games, and now outranked them all, answering only to the King.

Verden would not let this beautiful creature be used by the Court for their entertainment.

He watched as she straightened, her smile a little too fixed, a little too bright maybe. He caught the tremble of her fingers as they curled by her side. There was something about her, the look in her eyes, the tilt of her chin. It had been too long since he’d been around fairies who didn’t put on the mask they thought everyone wanted to see. The corners of his lips turned up the slightest bit.

Taryn took a couple paces back, waiting to be dismissed. The King looked at her for a moment longer, then turned to Verden. He stepped forward and leaned down, already knowing what it was the King would ask.

“I want to know why she is at Court and what she wants,” the King murmured. Didn’t everyone? Verden was willing to make a few guesses, but he hadn’t gotten to be Hunter by gathering wild theories. He’d get what he needed and protect the King’s interests.

“Of course, sire.” He didn’t need to be reminded what his job was. He would have tracked her down…and not just for work. He was curious about her and not because of what she might be plotting or whose side she was on. He glanced at her, her fingers flexing against the skirt of her dress, a movement that was almost hidden. Her gaze met his for a moment, then flicked back to the King.

“See she attends my table tonight.”

Verden blinked. That was a surprise. “Your table?”

“I want to see how alike mother and daughter are.”

“Very well.” Verden nodded and drew back. The King could’ve made the invitation publicly, but that would have shown Taryn too much favor. She was a stranger, an unknown quantity, and for all the King knew, Taryn planned to throw her lot in with the Queen. Verden hoped not, but if nothing else, dinner would be interesting.

The King lifted his hand, dismissing Taryn. Verden would wait until the session had ended and then he would find Taryn. He glanced down at one of the hounds; it lifted its head and slunk out of the chamber, ready to follow Taryn. Watching her would be no trouble at all.

Chapter 2

The look in the King’s eyes sent the chill straight down Taryn’s spine. If a mortal man had looked at her like that, she’d have run. For a moment, every ounce of his restrained power had been directed at her. Then he’d turned his head and spoken to another man.

She couldn’t hear a word they said above the whispers that were happening behind her back, yet it was obvious they were talking about her. She wasn’t used to so much attention, and she didn’t like it. Her toes wriggled in her shoes; she wanted to go. Why the wait?

The other man lifted his gaze and looked at her for a moment. His cool gray eyes seemed to assess and sum her up in one glance; then he went back to his discussion with the King.

Her heart beat a little faster. Who was he? Maybe they already knew why she was here and they were discussing her father’s pardon. Not for the first time today, she wished the Prince had that power.

The man wasn’t dressed as brightly as the others, and yet nothing about him said he didn’t belong near the King. And anyone standing that close to the King was in favor and probably on the council. She let her gaze slide over the other fairies around the King. The Queen, the Prince—who gave no sign of knowing her—the gray-eyed man, and a couple other men and women. One of them would be the Hunter. Two white dogs were lying on the floor, but she didn’t know who they belonged to.

The King and the man came to an agreement, and the man straightened and stepped back. His gaze met hers again, a faint smile on his lips that tempted her to smile back. No, she was here to win favor of the King and save her father, nothing more.

And yet…it was hard to look away. She blinked and refocused on the King. He was watching her. What was he waiting for?

The question burned the tip of her tongue. She certainly had the King’s attention, and who knew when she’d be able to get it again. For a moment, nothing else and no one else in the room mattered, and it all faded beneath the sound of her heart beating. There was a glimmer in the King’s eyes. Was he daring her to ask?

She made herself breathe. Her fingers curled, and she made them straighten. She had every right to be here—but not every right to ask. If she asked now, in front of everyone, and failed, she’d never get another chance. Her mother was right. She needed to find a way to get closer to the King, to win his favor before her novelty status wore off and he was no longer interested.

So she said nothing and pasted a smile on her face, all the while feeling like the village idiot. Her mother’s rushed training had not helped. The Queen’s eyes narrowed. The gray-eyed man watched her without moving, and yet she was sure he hadn’t missed a second of her inner struggle. Then the King raised his fingers and she was dismissed without a word.

Was that good or bad? How long would she have to play their game for before she could ask the King for her father’s life?

Exile was supposed to be a lighter sentence, a social death instead of the slow death sentence of banishment and becoming a Grey. But with the power shift coming, there would be many asking for the King’s favor to lift an exile and save a relative.

She’d make that opportunity. Somehow.

She took a step back. Don’t turn your back on the King, as that’s rude. Never turn your back to the Queen, as she’ll stab you.

Her mother’s voice rang in her memory. There were so many ways to misstep. Beneath her feet, the grass was soft; leaves rustled overhead and the whispers were continuing. Now they knew who she was. Part of her mystery was already gone.

Another step, she was almost out of the chamber.

The tiniest breath escaped, but she didn’t let herself relax. Not yet—not until she’d fled the wolves’ luscious den. She kept her chin up and pretended she couldn’t hear the giggles the Ladies didn’t bother to hide.

She wanted to be alone to think and plan her next move. She cast her gaze over the chamber again, keeping it cool, as though she outranked them all and everything had gone according to her plan. Fake it.

Faking it was her specialty. She faked human all the time.

With a final step she was free. That had been way worse than any high school dance.

She walked down a corridor made of tree trunks as if she knew where she was going. Where was she going?

Her bedroom was in the castle, under the leafy roof, but she’d spent far too long in there already waiting until she’d been officially introduced. Now that had happened, she was free to roam. She stopped walking and glanced around. The corridor was empty except for a few shadow servants drifting around, featureless shadows that served the Court. She shivered and backed away as one came near. She didn’t want to be inside. She needed blue sky and sunlight.

What she really wanted was to go home, but Prince Felan had told her she couldn’t leave Court. He’d had the decency to stop by her room for a few moments before her introduction. He’d warned her about getting on the Queen’s bad side and given her a pile of wooden coins to get her started, along with some extra clothing. And at the same time he had warned her not to be close to him, as it could jeopardize her chances of getting the pardon from his father—things were changing and people were on edge.

They hadn’t looked on edge to her. They’d looked ready to party, like she’d stepped into an alternate history where everyone was in their twenties and fancy dresses that showed too much skin were all the rage. And her parents wanted to come back here to live?

She was leaving as soon as she could. She missed the movies and the mall, the beach and the feel of sand between her toes, even if she couldn’t swim and had no intention of learning. That amount of moving water freaked her out, like it did all fairies. She hadn’t realized how good she had it in the mortal world. She’d gone to school and done everything a mortal child would. Her parents hadn’t wanted her to feel as though she was missing out on anything, and they had filled her head with tales from Court, real fairy tales. But none of those stories had prepared her for the harsh beauty or the cold glances.

She kept walking, determined to find an exit and too afraid to ask a shadow servant. Her feet moved faster; she wanted out of this never-ending castle—now. She saw a door and walked quickly toward it. Suddenly everything felt too bright, too sharp, as if nature were on steroids. Her stomach tightened and turned. As she stepped outside, she let the illusion that she was keeping it together slide. She took a deep breath and swallowed.

Taryn glanced over her shoulder, but no one had followed her. Good. She slipped off her shoes, gathered her skirts, and ran. The delicate fabric swished around her legs, and for a moment she was free. She spun in a circle, just glad to be out from the scrutiny, and kept going. She didn’t know where she was running to, only that the further away she got, the lighter she felt.

Well, that was not entirely true. The further away she got from the giant tree castle, the less her blood hummed with the power of Annwyn. It was like being drunk and high and sober all at the same time. Inside the castle, her skin had tingled, but out here, her body felt like hers again—or at least more like hers.

She slowed to a walk and let the green, layered skirt fall from her hands. Her ballet flats—or the fairy equivalent—dangled from her fingers. Seriously, who put emeralds on shoes? For a moment she tried to imagine their faces if she’d walked in wearing jeans and a Florence and the Machine T-shirt. She laughed, then stopped. It wasn’t her laugh. It was, but it sounded different, as if just being here was changing her.

Her feet stopped as if she’d hit an invisible wall.

Slowly she turned back to the castle. Alien and beautiful and terrifying and bristling with power she didn’t understand, yet this was where she belonged. She was fairy, not mortal. Even though she’d spent all of her life in the mortal world, she knew her mother had slipped back to the outer reaches of Annwyn to give birth, alone, since her father couldn’t cross the veil. Her life would’ve been very different if she’d been born in the mortal world. She’d be a changeling, and while not beyond the reaches of the Court, maybe Felan wouldn’t have demanded her presence.

How long did she have before Felan claimed the throne?

Her mother had told her to ease in and make acquaintances, to move softly and gently so no one knew what it was she wanted. It made her want to scream with frustration. Her parents’ lives weren’t a game. She refused to let the fear and pressure get to her. She could do this.

She stepped off the grassy path and into a small alcove where gray rocks pushed through the grass and were wrapped by tree roots to form seats. She slumped onto the seat and let her shoes fall to the grass as she cradled her head in her hands, plucking at the carefully made coils in her hair so more fell around her shoulders.

How was she going to smile and play their games when the whole time she’d be thinking of what would happen if she failed?

Yet she couldn’t hide out here; she was going to have to face those stares day after day after day. Her eyes burned. She sniffed and squeezed her eyes closed. One day and she was already falling apart. Tears trickled down her cheeks and she let them fall, taking the tension and stress with them.

She’d suck it up before she went back. She wouldn’t give the Court the chance to see her undone. In front of them, she’d be snobby and look down her nose at those who hadn’t tasted life with the mortals. Yeah. She knew things they didn’t. She could blow bubbles with bubble gum, do calculus, and write an essay on Macbeth. She choked out laughter. Some of the people here had probably met Shakespeare. Who was she kidding? The pretty people here probably never went to the mortal world unless it was to procreate.

A lean white dog with red tips on its ears and tail wandered in to her alcove. She quickly wiped away her tears and held out her hand. The dog trotted over for a sniff, and then a second dog rounded the corner. How many were there? She stood up, but before she had time to fear the dogs, the gray-eyed man walked into the alcove.

He leaned against a tree and smiled, but it was carefully neutral, as though they were still in the castle. “Now why would a Lady just back at Court be so sad?”

She searched his smoky gray eyes for a hint at his intent, but saw no malice.

“You leave a lover behind?” He took a step closer and the alcove seemed to grow smaller around them.

Who was this Lord? His clothing wasn’t brightly colored and it didn’t glitter with gems, and yet this close, she could see that the fabric was covered in delicate stitches that shimmered in the light. The cuffs of his shirt were undone, the ties dangling. His dark brown hair was pulled back, but strands fell around his face, softening his otherwise sharp cheekbones and nose. He was beautiful even by fairy standards—and he’d followed her out here.

She glanced at the dogs sitting obediently at his feet. He’d sent them after her. Was she talking to the Lord of the Hunt? Her heart gave an extra beat.

Taryn shook her head. She didn’t want him thinking she was crying over a human lover. “My family.”

“Ah. They are in the mortal world.” He nodded as if confirming his information. How did he know? “Brownies, then?”

“Yes.” Being a Brownie was as good as it got in the mortal world, living in the home of a changeling, or more rarely a human, and keeping the house immaculate. A home within a home. A small exchange between human and fairy sealed the ancient pact. It didn’t matter where fairies were; rank and social standing was important. She’d thought the stuffy all-girls school she’d attended had prepared her for Court. It hadn’t.

The dogs laid down and looked relaxed, but their eyes never left her. And neither did his. He’d sought her, which meant he wanted something. What could a man with almost as much power as the King want from her? For half a second, she wanted to give him anything he asked for if he would help her get her father’s pardon. But that wouldn’t be a smart move.

She almost smiled—she did know something about Court and Annwyn politics, but caution made her careful. She had to confirm who he was first. “Your dogs?”

“They are, but don’t worry. They are well trained and won’t harm you.” He moved a little closer to her. “But there are plenty of others who would.”

She tilted her chin and held his gaze. Heat flared but was smothered so quickly she couldn’t be sure it had ever existed, and she was no human who would trip into the arms of a fairy without knowing the danger.

“But not you?” She tried to sound as though she believed those words. The Hunter was the King’s justice. He could literally do whatever he liked.

He took a slow look at her, from her bare feet, one toe adorned with a ring, to her now unraveled hair. Compared to the Ladies of the Court, she must look like she’d just tumbled out of bed. This was not how her mother would want her to present herself, yet nothing on his face suggested disappointment. Heat crept up her cheeks. She wasn’t used to such obvious assessment and interest.

He leveled his gaze at her. “I don’t think you are here to harm the King.”

“Is that why he asked you to follow me?”

He grinned as if he was having fun. “Most don’t come out and ask such questions of me.”

“Ah, well, I don’t know your name. To whom am I speaking?”

He gave her a fluid half bow. “Verden ap Hollis ap Lorcyn. Lord of the Hunt.”

Being right only made her more nervous. Yes, it was definitely nerves, not attraction, making her heart flutter. Then she realized he’d given her his full name freely; she should lower her gaze or drop a curtsy or something, and yet he didn’t seem to expect either.

“Why did you follow me?”

“It is my job to ensure the safety of the King and Annwyn. I always seek out new arrivals for a quiet talk.”

She almost believed that, but there was a glint in his eyes as if he were enjoying himself. Did he want to be here talking to her? No, she was imagining it simply because he was taking the time to talk to her. Men like him had their pick of women—mortal and fairy. She was just part of his job.

“And?”

He walked around her. “And I think you are intriguing, Taryn merch Arlea.”

Her heart lurched as a wave of homesickness washed over her at the mention of her mother’s name. Why was he suddenly being so formal? Or was he proving he knew all about her already? Did he know why she was here and was just hoping to hear it from her lips? Too bad. She kept her back straight and waited for him to face her again.

“I think the whole Court is going to find you interesting.”

“I know. I could tell from the whispers.”

“Do you want to know why?”

“New face?” She raised an eyebrow. Telling him the reason she was here was not a good idea. Not yet anyway. Maybe he’d help; maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe the price of his help would be too high. No, she was sure it would be too high.

“Plenty of people are crossing the veil and returning to Annwyn for safety. Few are coming to Court. And yet you did. And you were introduced, which also means it is your first time at Court.”

She nodded.

“That means you want something from someone at Court.”

If he wanted to know that, he’d have to work for it. She gave a casual shrug. “How badly do you want to know?”

He laughed. Both the dogs looked up as if startled. Did he not laugh often? That was a pity because when he laughed, his eyes lit up, and he went from beautiful to gorgeous. “I advise you not to be so bold with others. But yes, I do want to know why you are here. That is my job.” The good humor was gone.

“I’m under no obligation to tell you.”

He nodded. “Am I to think the worst then?”

She stepped back. “You may think what you want, but I am here for personal reasons. I don’t want to get caught in Court games.”

“It’s too late for that. You are here.” He touched her cheek. “And yet you don’t want to be. That’s why you were crying.”

She looked down, aware of the cool grass tickling her toes. While she might have been born here, this wasn’t her home. She didn’t know anyone. When she looked at those beautiful faces, all she saw were hollow eyes looking for something to entertain them. For the moment, that was her.

“It’s been an exhausting day…” Maybe she should have gone to her room. At least no one would have bothered her there. She could’ve stared at the ceiling until her brain tried to climb out of her skull with boredom. She took a step and he mirrored her movement. “I think I’ll return to the castle now.”

“So soon?” He raised one eyebrow.

“Weren’t you sent to drag me back to the castle?”

“Have you done something that would warrant me hauling you back to the castle?”

She shook her head. Not unless running and hiding was a crime here. Next time she wouldn’t venture so far from the castle…although if it meant running into the Hunter, maybe she would.

“Perhaps we could walk back to the castle together.” He offered her his arm.

For a heartbeat she stared at it. It was an offer she couldn’t refuse, and yet one she wasn’t sure she should take. Would it help or hinder her chances of getting the pardon? Refusing would definitely hinder. She had no doubt Verden would report back to the King.

She swallowed. “Let me put my shoes on.”

The dogs stretched and snapped their teeth as if impatient.

When she stood up, he was waiting. She carefully placed her arm around his. She was sure her fingertips tingled where their skin touched, but she was going to blame the magic of Annwyn, not lust. Wanting him would lead to trouble.

Would walking with him also bring trouble?

She didn’t know enough to make that decision. They walked out of the alcove and onto the tree-lined path. He was returning her to the castle. He could have lied about everything and she’d have no idea.

“If you’d like a tour of the castle or the grounds, I’d be more than happy to oblige. I know how difficult the first few days at Court can be.”

How could he know that? Taryn stopped walking and half turned to face him. Should she accept or play it cool? The silence expanded as she debated what to say. She was going to screw this up.

He frowned as if not understanding her reluctance. “Not everything here is a trap, Taryn. Some things are just as they appear—the trick is determining what is truth and what is a clever lie.”

“And how am I supposed to know if you make your offer out of kindness or cruelty?” Please don’t let this be some kind of trick. She needed to learn more about Court and he was willing to take the time to help her…or was he simply playing her to learn why she was here?

Did it matter when she still got what she needed?

“That is your decision to make.” He looked at her for a moment too long for it to be a casual observation. Something shifted in his eyes and she glimpsed a hunger that hadn’t been there before; then it was gone as fast as if she’d imagined it—a desire that would never be filled. A desire for what? Information? Power?

She wanted to trust him even though her mother’s warning echoed in her ears.

Don’t trust anyone, not even the King, until the pardon is issued.

But she had to trust someone because she couldn’t do this on her own.

Verden didn’t pull his arm free and stalk off; he waited for her to choose. This was a one-time offer. She knew he wouldn’t make it again, but she also knew she wouldn’t be free of him. He worked for the King, and he wanted to know why she was here. That could work in her favor. Perhaps with Verden she could get closer to the King.

When she looked at him, she didn’t want this to be about the King or anything else. She wanted to be shown the castle, and she wanted him to show her. Perhaps Annwyn wasn’t as alien and unfriendly as she first thought.

“I’d love a tour…if you have the time.”

He smiled, the one with warmth in it, not the other one that looked as though it had been carefully crafted to give nothing away. “For you I will always have time.”

Chapter 3

Verden was sure it wouldn’t go unnoticed that Taryn was walking with him. It certainly wouldn’t hurt her standing at Court if people assumed she was in favor. And for tonight she was. Before them, the castle loomed. It seemed every time he looked at it, the branches held fewer leaves.

He glanced at Taryn. Pretty, yes, but all fairies were. It was her attitude that made him pause. He could have walked away from her in alcove, sure that she was no threat. And yet he hadn’t wanted to. She was different in a way that made him want to be around her—and there was something in her eyes when she looked at him, a glimmer that most would hide. That he could call it protecting the King’s interests was a bonus when what he wanted to do was protect his own interests.

It would be a shame to see her fall prey to the games of the Court. Those that had treated him most viciously had been dealt with. One by one he’d taken them down. Now, no one dared cross him. Most wanted favors.

He’d offered Taryn one and she’d almost turned it down; he’d seen it in her eyes, her confusion and wariness. He’d enjoyed that moment. He was the Hunter, but he was also a man, and it was nice to talk to a woman who wasn’t trying to get something from him. That she was untainted by Court and bubbled with life that she didn’t hide was a bonus. If she would accept, he’d offer to take her anywhere she wanted just to hear her laugh. She shouldn’t be so sad; Court could be wonderful.

She looked at him as if studying his face before speaking. “Can I ask a question?”

His guard automatically went up. “You can, but I may not answer.”

She was silent for a couple paces. “A trade then. You answer one of mine and I’ll answer one of yours.” Her lips curved as if she were proud of herself for offering the trade of information.

For most others he’d still refuse. He knew too much to be open, but he already knew what he wanted to ask of her and he doubted that she’d ask anything too revealing of him. “You have a deal.”

Her smile faltered. “I didn’t mean to make a deal.”

“But you have and I can’t let you out of it.” He stopped walking. He wouldn’t abuse the deal though, the way others would. She would have to learn to be more careful. “You may ask first.”

She glanced at the castle and then at him, a frown pinching her eyebrows and tightening her lips. “Will you swear this stays between us?”

He’d promised the King to find out why she was here. How could he keep that promise while keeping this to himself?

“Why ask if you think I’ll tell the King?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, obviously torn. Then she opened them. “I need to ask a favor of the King.”

Well, that answered why she was at Court. “I think most people suspected you want something from either me, the Prince, or the King.” And he was glad it wasn’t him. No doubt she’d only accepted his offer of a tour because she thought he could help. The illusion that she had been interested in him, not what he could offer, had been nice while it lasted. “What is your question?”

“What is the best way to go about it?”

His eyes widened for a moment. He hadn’t expected that. He’d expected her to ask how he could help her, or even see if he would get whatever she wanted from the King—that’s what other’s would have asked of him. “I’m not sure what answer to give since I don’t know what the favor is.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

He almost smiled. She was learning. She’d need to if she were going to survive more than a day at Court. Even as he thought it, he knew he’d do his best to protect her. No one had helped him and he’d watched others stand or fail over the years. It was a cruelty that she didn’t deserve. She knew very little about Annwyn and less about Court. At least he’d known what he was getting into. “I would proceed with caution. He has invited you to his table tonight—”

“His table? When were you going to tell me?” She almost jumped with excitement.

“Is that the question you want me to answer?” That grounded her. She had no idea what being at the King’s table meant or the scrutiny that would follow.

“No.”

“Dinner is a start. Be entertaining, witty, and charming. Be on his good side and do not press. He is…he is fair and just, but he has recently been wounded by the Queen.” And he wasn’t granting any favors at the moment. Taryn sighed and looked at the ground as though he’d just stabbed her only chance through the heart and left it for dead. “I’m not saying don’t ask, only choose your moment carefully. Is it not something that someone else can grant…say, the Prince?”

But he already suspected what it was she wanted. He hoped, for her sake, he was wrong.

She shook her head. “Only the King can help me.” She lifted her chin and looked at him. “Your turn.”

He looked at her for a moment. There were a hundred things he’d like to ask her, yet only one he needed to know as Hunter. “Whom does your father serve in the mortal world?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, frowning.

“You must answer. Otherwise you will become known as a deal breaker and none will trust your word. In Annwyn your word is all you have.”

“A changeling. Why?”

Verden gave a casual shrug. He wanted to know which changeling. “I need to make sure that no one plots against the King,” he answered without hesitation. That included Felan. Which put Verden in an awkward position of serving a dying King and yet wanting a smooth transition of power from father to son. He didn’t want the Queen’s plots to succeed. That she didn’t want her son on the throne was enough of a warning for Verden.

“My father is in exile. The only thing he is plotting is his potential funeral if I don’t get a pardon.”

“Ah. That is the favor you need from the King.” Damn it to the river. The King hadn’t granted any pardons in a long time. “You should be careful whom you tell these things to. Information like that is valuable.”

She winced. “Will you tell?”

“I’m sworn to serve the King. However, I see no issue in letting you run this game, as harming him will not help your purpose.”

“Thank you.” And she rewarded him with a smile that sent a shimmer of lust through his blood. She wasn’t just walking with him because of what he could do for her. Her lips and eyes held the hint of interest that most masked for fear of exposing their true intentions. He should tell her to school her expression to one of indifference, but he couldn’t.

If they weren’t standing so close to the castle with a few pretending not to watch, he might have been tempted to kiss her. When was the last time he had kissed someone without it being more than simple desire? Too long ago was the only answer he had.

“Come, let me show you around the castle so you don’t get lost.” If he kept himself busy, he wouldn’t be thinking about ways to get into trouble. And lust in Annwyn was a sure way to get caught up in deals that would end badly. He was the Hunter, and she wanted a favor from the King.

He stayed silent as they walked past other fairies. He nodded at a couple. Some of them looked at her and then Verden, but he ignored their curious gazes while she tried to copy his behavior and not let her curiosity show. He led her into a vast hall that glittered as though a thousand stars were trapped amongst the trees. She gasped and stared up. He tried to remember the first time he’d seen the chamber, the wonder and the beauty of a room filled with hundreds of mirrors. Some hung from branches; others were embedded in the bark.

“This is the Hall of Mirrors. The gaming tables here are high stakes, so I don’t recommend you come here unless you have a lot you can risk.”

“Then why show me?”

“So you know the danger. But also the reason for the mirrors.” He walked over and selected one to place in her hand. His fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary. “Look closely.”

“My house,” she whispered. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t. You selected where to see across the veil. Perhaps next time you will see your parents.”

She touched the surface of the mirror, her mouth turning down, and she looked as sad as she had when he’d found her hiding in the alcove. That hadn’t been his intention.

“I thought you’d be happy to see them.”

“I do want to see them, but I’m not allowed to leave Annwyn.” Her gaze darted to the corner where the Prince was sitting and talking to the blond woman he favored.

“Everyone is free to come and go.” Unless…Taryn’s father had once been friends with Felan. In that moment, he knew exactly which changeling her family served and who had invited her to Court and who had forbidden her to leave. The Prince was far smarter than most gave him credit for and few knew his best-kept secret: He had a changeling son. “Though why would you want to leave when you have only just arrived?”

“You belong here; you don’t understand homesickness.” She let the mirror drop. It twirled on its chain, sparkling in the light.

He didn’t know quite how to answer that. He wasn’t used to being spoken to like that, as if…as if they were on equal ground. “I haven’t always lived at Court.” Then he softened his voice and took her arm, not wanting to linger where people could overhear. “I know what it’s like to long for home. But longing doesn’t get you very far, and it won’t get you what you want.” He wanted Taryn. He wanted to slide his fingers into her hair and kiss her lips. He’d have to be smarter than that. He didn’t want anyone else at Court noticing that he had more than a passing interest in Taryn. The last thing he needed was someone gaining leverage over him. “There are other ways out of Annwyn than the main doorway.”

Deliberately breaking one of the Prince’s orders was not smart, but it would be fun, and there was nothing Felan could do. It wasn’t as though taking Taryn across the veil was a threat to Annwyn security. Why Felan had told her she couldn’t leave he didn’t know, but he’d find out, and he was sure it was all tied to the pardon.

Felan wanted Chalmer and Arlea back. Which meant Felan was preparing to take the throne. That was where Verden would place his coin if he were betting on the outcome.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly that.” And that was the second favor he’d offered and the second one she’d eyed very cautiously. She didn’t trust him. That hurt. Most were wary of him and the power he wielded, but he didn’t want Taryn looking at him and seeing only the Hunter. Perhaps taking her across the veil would be a good thing. Away from Court with her, he could be Verden, not the Hunter. The only time he was usually away from Court was when he was working, upholding the King’s law in the mortal world. Just because fairies lived across the veil didn’t mean they were exempt from Annwyn’s rules.

He led her down a hallway, past shadow servants picking up fallen petals as if they could disguise what was happening by hiding the evidence of the failing magic.

“The Hall of Judgment is down here?”

“Yes, and so is the Hall of Flowers, the main hall. The tables here are where most play. It is also where dinner will be held.” He showed her in to the chamber. Fairies were sitting at the tables. Some played cards, others dice. Some were just talking, jugs of wine and plates of food at their sides. “If you are hungry, you just need to ask a shadow servant for food and drink and they will fetch it for you.” He beckoned a shadow over, a dark figure without features or voice. Some were human souls serving penance and hoping to avoid being thrown in the river of damned souls; others were fairies paying a penalty.

Verden gave it instructions and it drifted away. “The raised table in the center is the King’s. Only his Council and guests get to join him.”

“Is that where you sit?”

He looked at her, a faint smile curving his lips. “That is where I sit every night, but your attention will surely be on the King.” Those words should have been easy to say, but they weren’t. He’d advised her to be witty and charming and to keep the King’s attention, but that would mean she wouldn’t be talking to him. When she smiled, it wouldn’t be for him. Would the King really give her that pardon or would she be performing for no reason? He’d seen the look in the King’s eye, the interest.

She nodded slowly, as if grasping what he wasn’t saying. If she was too friendly with him it would hurt her chances. Perhaps the King would do this last act of kindness in part for his son as well as Taryn, but it was unlikely. Arlea’s departure had caused great upset.

“Come on. There are a few other places you should see.”

“But the food?”

“Will find us.”

They crossed the hall. On one side there was a balcony that overlooked the tables. Some people stood up there, watching the goings-on.

Verden glanced up. “Guest chambers, which are getting full with the recent returns from across the veil. Down this hall are the Queen’s chambers. I would advise staying away.”

“You say that like you don’t think I’ll be able to avoid her.”

“You are a new female at Court; she will want to find out more.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

This time he grinned. “So true. People will want to know where you fit, who your allies are.”

“Are you my ally?”

He stopped walking. He wanted to be more than her ally, but that was impossible at Court. He should put her out of his mind, let her chase the pardon and obey Felan. And yet the idea of running his own game again, behind the back of Felan, was tempting. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to do anything except what was required. He was as loyal to Gwyn as the hounds were to him. What harm could one trip across the veil do? “I could be if you trust me.”

A shadow approached holding a glass goblet and a plate of fruit.

“Here you go, enjoy.” He gave her a bow and turned to leave before he offered her more than he could afford.

“Wait.” She paused for the shadow to drift away. “Are you able to take me out of Annwyn?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

He should lie and tell her to obey, but across the veil she would be alone with him and no one would be watching. “Yes.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he placed a finger on her lips. “Another time…and of course, you’d have to trust that I won’t tell the Prince.”

Perhaps he was no better than the rest, wanting to test her alliances and seeing where her interest fell. But he hadn’t imagined the warmth in her eyes or the glint of attraction when she thought he wasn’t looking. For the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to dinner.

* * *

Verden made his way back to the Hall of Mirrors, hoping that the Prince was still there. He was and he was now alone, studying a mirror. Verden took a nearby seat and waited. Eventually the Prince let the mirror go and turned around.

“Are you seeking a game or me?” There was no warmth in his eyes.

Verden smiled his best courtier’s smile that meant nothing and yet implied whatever the viewer wanted. “Both.”

Felan gave a single nod and sat down, sweeping his deep-red, ankle-length waistcoat out of the way as he did. He was dressing more and more like the Prince should. Just how close was he to taking control of Annwyn? Not close enough to have announced an heir and wedding. Perhaps close enough to be choosing a wife and thus the attraction of the Hall of Mirrors. Without a mortal woman willing to give up her soul, Felan couldn’t take the throne.

“How would you like to lose today?” Felan pulled out the drawer and looked over the games stored there.

“Dice. I feel like testing my luck and not my strategy.”

Felan withdrew two thirteen-sided dice and placed them on the table. Verden picked them up and rolled them a few times to see if they were weighted. They rolled true, but it always paid to check the cards and dice before agreeing to play any game. Fortunes and ranks were made and lost by the roll of the dice or a hand of cards. He knew that from experience.

“My father sent you to inquire about what I am up to?” He made a couple rolls and nodded, satisfied with the dice.

“Not in as many words.” When dealing with the Prince, Verden had learned that honesty went a long way.

Felan met Verden’s gaze. “You still his loyal dog?”

“I swore to serve him. Would you rather a loyal man on the wrong side or a liar on your side?” Anyone who’d sworn to the King and was now swearing to Felan wasn’t worth the weight of his promise.

“Then what are playing for if you aren’t here to vow support? Or am I to gain your loyalty if I win?” Felan smiled.

“I would never gamble what I can’t give freely. But know I wouldn’t act against you unless you act directly against the King.” In his heart, he hoped Gwyn would step aside when asked and there would be no battle. No one, fairy or mortal, would win if Annwyn went to war. “How about we play for answers, one question answered truthfully to the winner.”

“Very well.” Felan rolled the dice onto the table. They fell within the inlaid circle, one in the quarter marked as spring, the other in autumn—cusp seasons and the most dangerous at Court.

Best of thirteen rolls, the number and the seasons all coming into play.

Verden scooped up the dice and took his turn. They rolled in winter. Double thirteen, a good score but an ill omen given the recent events at Court. “A good thing we aren’t reading fortunes.”

“Only a fool uses dice to predict the future. Cards are much more reliable.” The Prince’s lips curved, but both men knew that many fairies tried to predict their fortunes and favors using dice and cards.

The next roll fell outside the circle, a wasted turn. The Crown Prince of Annwyn was throwing the game. He had to be. A skilled player could almost direct the dice to fall in the required season. Verden glanced up, but Felan’s face was unreadable.

“Your father wishes to speak with you.” Verden risked speaking his mind.

“I know what my father wishes to discuss and I have nothing to say.”

A leaf fell next to the table and a shadow servant picked it up, but both men glanced at it. While some pretended the problem didn’t exist, it wouldn’t be long until Castle Annwyn had no leaves left to form a roof. Verden looked at the Prince.

Felan pressed his lips together and took his turn with the dice. When he spoke, it was quietly and firmly. “It is not as easy as people seem to think. In the mortal world, a King would age and sicken. My father is the same man he was when I was a child centuries ago. I know what I need to do, but my heart isn’t in it.”

“The longer you wait, the worse it will be for everyone.”

“I know. Annwyn’s boundaries are fraying and bleeding into the mortal world. Have you unraveled my mother’s game?” Gwyn might step aside, but Eyra wouldn’t. If Felan moved against the Queen, Verden would back him. However, Annwyn needed a King and Queen.

“I wish I had. I would give you that freely.” If he were trying to win Felan’s favor, he’d also inform the Prince of Taryn’s desire to leave Annwyn, but that was their secret—one he was enjoying contemplating even if he hadn’t decided if he was going to act on it. The light in her eyes when he’d suggested it was enough to still warm his blood.

Felan nodded. “I would make the same offer. I am reluctant to bring a woman here knowing that my mother will attempt to kill her. You can tell my father that.”

And he would, but father and son should speak; it would uncomplicate things. “You could tell him yourself.” Verden threw the dice for his last turn.

Felan fixed him with a look and then shook his head. “You win. What is your question?”

“The Lady Taryn, why did you bring her to Court?” Verden asked.

“Ah, so you know it was me. Are you asking for yourself or my father?”

“Does it matter when you said you’d answer truthfully?”

Felan considered him for a moment. The Prince was shrewder than most realized. They believed him nothing but a pleasure-seeking layabout. Some were concerned he could even rule. Verden was sure he could; his games ran so deep most couldn’t see the bottom and the prize. He would be a King worthy of serving. If Verden hadn’t sworn to Gwyn, he’d be swearing to aid Felan to the throne.

“I owed her father a favor, and since I can’t lift the exile, I invited Taryn instead. I’m sure he still harbors a grudge against Arlea.”

“You invited her to get the pardon for you.”

“You are out of questions, Hunter. Unless you want to press your luck again?” There was a predatory glint that suggested that should Verden try he would lose, and there were questions he didn’t want to answer.

It was enough that the Prince had confirmed what he’d pieced together and admitted to owing Chalmer a favor.

The Prince stood. “We’ll play again soon. Perhaps you can tell me why you ask about her?”

Verden gave him an empty smile. “Anyone coming to Annwyn and catching the King’s eye is my concern.”

Surprise flickered on Felan’s features but was quickly hidden. “She is only twenty-one mortal years. Don’t let her fall prey to the Court.” Felan placed his hand on Verden’s shoulder and leaned down. “No one wants a cold winter.” Then he moved on as if he hadn’t shared anything of importance.

Verden eased back in his chair with practiced relaxation, and tried to look as bored as possible. Today it was all fake. Did Taryn have any idea how important the pardon was? There was far more than saving her father’s life at stake, and more reasons to make sure that she did everything to succeed. In this he could serve Felan and Taryn with a clear conscience, although he had yet to decide how best to serve.

A gaggle of the Queen’s Ladies strolled past him, several glancing his way with careful smiles on their lips. Most were harmless. Rhodia and Sulia were the ones to watch—Sulia especially. If he danced with her, he always checked he had all his fingers afterward. He smiled and inclined his head, hoping none of the women would take it as an invitation to join him.

Now if Taryn were to sit with him, he would have enjoyed her company some more, but it didn’t pay to be seen with one person too much of the time. That was how rumors started, and rumors had a way of coming true and creating problems.

Some of his thoughts of Taryn must have shown in his eyes as Rhodia broke away from the group.

“You sit alone, Hunter.”

And he had been enjoying those few moments to tumble ideas around. “I do, but I see you are here to save me from myself.”

She laughed and he gritted his teeth. He knew her end game; Rhodia wanted a husband with power and thought he’d make a good match. Would she still feel the same after the power shift, when he no longer had the rank of Hunter?

Maybe she thought he’d climb again. Maybe he would. He didn’t know. Until Gwyn gave up the throne or Felan pushed him out of it, Verden was in limbo. The Hunter of a dying Court.

Chapter 4

Taryn looked at the dresses she had, trying to work out what to wear for dinner. Dinner with the King. Well, at his table anyway. It would be too public to ask for her father’s pardon. Which was probably a good thing because she might be tempted, even though Verden had advised her to move softly. Softly. As in don’t make waves. She scowled at her dresses, still no closer to picking one. Verden would be at the table too—the half-hidden heat in his eyes and the curve of his lips. She’d never kissed a fairy before. And she wouldn’t be kissing anyone tonight. She had to think of the pardon and ways to get it. Maybe Verden was right. She had to learn the ways of the Court before putting her hand out and asking for something. Plus there would be a price. But she’d give anything to save her parents.

She tried not to feel the pressure crushing her, or the tightness of her chest. She couldn’t let panic or fear get control; otherwise, she’d fail. She had to learn, adapt, and win. She grabbed the blue dress off the gently sweeping branch that was acting as a clothes rail. Getting used to being surrounded by a living castle was still taking time—as was seeing the shadow servants.

Was being a shadow better than being exiled or banished?

She didn’t know, but they gave her the creeps and made her think the castle was haunted. Faceless ghosts at her beck and call. She shuddered.

Taryn changed her clothes, redid her hair, and hoped she looked okay. No. She had to look better than okay, since everybody would be wondering why she was getting to sit up there with the King…and the Queen—hopefully as far from the Queen as possible—and Verden. She couldn’t stop the smile from forming.

So far he was being very nice. So what did he want in exchange? She looked at herself in the mirror. The dark blue dress contrasted with her orange eyes, a color she’d always had to glamour to brown in the mortal world to hide what she was, and exposed just a little more skin than she would usually. Too much leg? Or maybe it was the cutaway at the side. With the silvery stars on the bodice, drifting down the front to dance across the hem, there were perhaps too many things going on at once. But then she was used to human fashion, not fairy, and fairies seemed to have an odd mix of ye olde clothes with too much color and flesh on show.

Maybe she should have worn the yellow dress instead. It was more eye-catching. And more revealing. Just whose eye was she trying to catch?

Verden appeared in her mind, his gray eyes and almost-hidden smile. If he’d been mortal, things would have been simpler, although it had been nice for a man to look at her and see the real her and not a glamour. She was so used to hiding what she was that being seen was unnerving. What if the real her wasn’t good enough? With a final smoothing of her dress, she stepped away from the mirror. She wasn’t here to fall into bed with a fairy Lord; she was here to secure her parents’ return and then leave after the power shift.

“Do not get sucked in, by anything or anyone.” Her reflection nodded along with her. For the first time in her life, she was glad she wasn’t human and couldn’t be tricked by fairy magic.

Here, she was normal.

With that thought in mind, she slipped past the heavy brocade curtain that passed for a door and made her way to the Hall of Flowers. Even though she’d already seen it, it was hard not to glance up in wonder. Hanging from the branches were vines of flowers in every color. They glittered as if dew were catching in the sunlight, and filled the air with a heady perfume. It was like an eternal summer. Except when she looked closely, she saw the signs of the decaying rule. There were no new buds, flowers were curling up, petals were wilting and dropping, and the leaves that formed the roof were turning red and gold.

She’d heard from her parents that the King’s rule was ending but seeing it was a different thing. For a moment she doubted her plan; she didn’t have time to play it safe—or move softly. Annwyn was failing around her and no one seemed to be noticing.

Beside her, a couple Ladies whispered and laughed. Taryn realized she was gawking like the poor country cousin. That was exactly what she was to them. The unfortunate thing who’d been forced to grow up in the mortal world. She gave the women her most deadly glare—which had been well practiced at school—and swept past like she at least belonged here.

She could act like she belonged here, act like everyone else, blend in. She was used to that game and had been playing it since kindergarten. A shadow met her at the entrance and led her through the maze of tables—some round, some long trestles, and others made for two—toward the center of the hall. Her smile became more forced and her heartbeat less than steady. She wanted to wipe her palms on her dress but couldn’t because people were watching her walk toward the King’s table.

Her stomach tightened. How was she going to eat dinner with so much scrutiny?

Verden glanced at her over the rim of his cup, but there was no warmth in his expression; it was as if he didn’t know her and they’d never spoken. She ignored the stab of hurt as he dismissed her as beneath his notice. What had she been thinking? That they could be friends and allies?

The Queen looked up from her conversation with the man next to her, her eyes dark but no longer empty. Taryn swallowed. She gave the table a curtsy, then waited next to the shadow servant.

“So glad you could join us.” The Prince gestured to an empty seat between himself and his father.

Was she late? There was no food on the table and several seats were empty. She kept her smile fixed.

“I’m very flattered to be invited.” Really, you shouldn’t have. No really, she’d much rather be sitting at a table somewhere near the edge, not the center of attention at the raised table. She felt as though she should turn around and wave, and ask if people would like a closer look at the strange fairy from the mortal world. But getting through dinner would help her with the King—if she didn’t screw it up.

She lifted the edge of her dress, stepped onto the platform, and sat down as gracefully as she could, the whole time trying to ignore the murmurs around the room. Heat burned her cheeks because she knew they were all looking at her again and wondering why she got the privilege of sitting with the King. Was it a one-off thing because she was new and had novelty value, or was it something else? She’d stepped into a game already in progress and wasn’t sure of the rules in place.

The King leaned back in his chair and looked at her. His lips moved in the barest of smiles yet suddenly she felt like the dinner. “We were just discussing how to celebrate midsummer this year. Perhaps you could share how mortals celebrate on the other side of the veil.”

Did humans celebrate midsummer anymore?

Was there even a right answer?

Could she phone a friend? Her human friends had thought she’d gone on vacation to some remote destination without email. There was nowhere more remote than Annwyn. Email? Jeez, they didn’t even have phones.

“Certainly…er…” She glanced across the table and made the mistake of looking directly at Verden. While all fairies were beautiful, he was different. He’d gotten changed for dinner, yet his clothes still weren’t as flashy as anyone else’s at the table. The green of his waistcoat seemed to shift as he moved, the ties on his shirt cuffs were still undone, and yet there was a restrained power about him that she would have noticed regardless of what he was wearing. He didn’t need fancy clothes to attract attention. He blinked, breaking the moment, and she remembered to breathe.

“Midsummer isn’t really celebrated.” She glanced around and saw that wasn’t the answer they were looking for. “However, because it falls during school break, there are lots of beach parties.”

“Beach parties.” Felan gave a small nod like he knew exactly what she was talking about. Aside from Felan, the other fairies were looking rather blank. She raised an eyebrow. Wow, they really needed to get out more.

“Sand, surf, bonfires. Or music festivals. Last year there was a beer festival.”

“So what are you suggesting? We cavort like drunken humans on a pile of sand?” The Queen laughed as if it was the most ludicrous idea she’d ever heard; a few others joined her.

The Queen was a bitch, like those popular girls at high school who picked on others and thought it was fun. Verden’s warning about staying away wouldn’t be hard to follow.

Verden placed his cup down and leaned forward a fraction, drawing the Queen’s attention away from Taryn. “Don’t we usually drink and cavort at midsummer anyway?”

“That is the point of the party,” the King agreed.

The Queen gave Verden and the King a glare that would have frozen water. “I have always preferred Lughnasa.”

“That’s because it’s battle and blood.” Felan signaled to a shadow servant and food was placed on the table. “Thank you for sharing your knowledge with us, but I’m sure my mother will do what she wants anyway when it comes to choosing this year’s theme.”

Taryn tilted her head but kept her mouth shut. The less she said the better, as whatever she said was sure to be used against her later. With her eyes on her wooden plate, she ate as delicately as she could manage and sipped at what was in her cup. It was nonalcoholic and all she really wanted was a glass of wine or a beer—anything to take the edge off would have been nice. If she’d been human, one sip or one bite of the food would’ve been enough to bind her to Annwyn.

Conversation ebbed around her and no one seemed to mind that she was quiet. When she lifted her gaze, she was being watched. From across the table, Verden’s gaze met hers. He didn’t say anything and he didn’t smile, but for a moment she thought she saw a shimmer of heat in his eyes. Then he carried on his discussion as if she weren’t there. So much for even having one friend at Court. Had she imagined the attraction and his attention?

No, he had definitely been interested. Or he’d been faking the whole time and was now laughing on the inside at her expense.

Which one was the real Verden? The one who’d taken the time to talk to her or this one whose face was a mask and who easily ate and drank with Lords and Ladies that outranked her parents?

The King leaned toward her and rested his elbow on the table. “How is your mother?”

Was it too soon to ask him? Probably. Maybe this was the test to see how pushy she was. Verden had warned her to be subtle and so had her mother. That advice she had to trust. It would be better to touch the edges than ask and be shot down. And if she never got another chance to sit with the King? She’d have to make one. She had to make sure she got invited back to his table. She angled her body slightly, as if she had no interest in anyone but the King. If Verden could ignore her, she could ignore him just as well. “Well, sire.”

His gaze cut through her as he watched her more closely than required. In his light blue eyes, she saw the bleakest winter. His age was showing for anyone who dared to look. She wanted to back away before she got caught in the storm, but she couldn’t. She’d have to plunge in and survive to get what her parents needed.

The King tilted his head a fraction. “She doesn’t mind living in the mortal world?”

What answer did he want? Or was he just seeking any information? Of course her mother would rather be here—though Taryn had yet to figure out the attraction of Court—but would telling the King how her mother and father longed to come home help their cause? Besides, it was her mother’s choice to live in the human world. It was her father who was truly stuck. “She has my father to keep her company.”

“You mean your father has her to keep him company.” He tapped the table as if he were annoyed with her answer. “She followed him into exile, yet here you are fairy, not changeling.”

He knew her lineage. Fairies took the name of the fairy parent, as it made it easy to keep track of family trees. She didn’t know who her human sire had been and it didn’t matter.

Taryn lifted her chin and met his icy gaze. “As you said, she isn’t in exile, so she came back to Annwyn to give birth.”

His lips twitched. “Your mother was always a smart woman. Smart enough to be on my Council once. Do you take after her?”

Taryn tried to hide her surprise as quickly as possible. Her mother had been on the Council? Yet she’d still chosen to leave with Taryn’s father over her service to the King. No wonder getting a pardon for her father had been a long time coming. Her heart sank as Taryn realized just what she had to achieve. Her mother had wounded the King’s pride. How was she ever going to convince him that her father should be allowed to return?

“People say I look like her.” Maybe if the King still held a candle for her mother, it would be enough to eventually return both her parents to Court.

“You do. It’s the eyes I think.” He looked at her for longer than was really necessary. “Any more siblings I should know about?”

“No, sire. Raising a fairy child in the mortal world is hard work apparently. Though I know my mother would like another when they are allowed to return.” She held her breath, wondering if she’d pressed too far.

“Your mother is always welcome in Annwyn.” The King lifted her hand and kissed it.

Taryn resisted the urge to pull away; instead, she kept her attention on the King, her heart beating fast out of fear not desire. Just how far would she play this game to get the pardon? She was vaguely aware of other people at the table watching. What were they thinking?

She swallowed. She had to make it clear that without her husband, Arlea would never return. If the King didn’t grant the pardon, she’d lose both her parents. “She would never leave her heart behind.”

For a moment neither of them moved. Then the King laughed and released her hand. “You are more like her than you know.”

Was that a good thing? She was beginning to wonder just what her mother had done to get on the Council. She knew fairies traded sex for favors, but hearing about it and being caught in it were two different things. Maybe she was too human to play fairy games.

The Queen stood and clapped her hands. “I grow tired of talking. A dance!”

Obediently, several of the diners at the table got up. Verden remained seated, his gaze carefully on the people attending the dinner. Everyone except her. She might as well have been invisible.

“Cards.” The King held out his hand and a shadow placed a deck there.

Dinner was removed so the table was clear for gaming. Then the King looked at her. “Do you know how to play any Court games?”

Taryn shook her head. She wasn’t ready to play any kind of game with the King. She could almost feel the water getting deeper and the currents stronger, ready to drag her under.

“Sit with me and learn. Verden.” The King beckoned him closer.

Verden stood and walked over, cup in hand, then sat in the vacated seat. “What do we play?”

“Omission, to teach the Lady.”

“Ah.” Verden directly acknowledged her as if he’d been granted permission for the first time that night. “I’m so glad you were able to join us for dinner.” His smile lost its impersonal edge for a moment, but it was back so fast she couldn’t be sure if it was imagined or real.

“A pleasure.” Her cheeks heated like she’d never had a man look at her and smile. Her gaze slid over Verden’s shoulders to his hands. Elegant but unadorned by rings. He didn’t need jewels to draw attention.

The King was talking, something about the rules of the game. His hand touched hers for a second, but it was a second too long while Verden was watching. He hadn’t missed the gesture. She nodded along as if understanding, then watched as the cards were dealt and the game began. It was too quick for her to follow and Verden lost.

“Will you give me a chance to regain my honor in front of the Lady?” Verden smiled, but it wasn’t the one she’d seen in the garden. This one was purely for show. How much of how he behaved was for the benefit of others? Had his conversation with her been an act to lure her in? Or had that been the truth, and this was the lie? She glanced across the floor to where people were either dancing or dining in organized chaos. Who would she be able to trust if everyone was playing along and seeking only to increase their standing?

“Best of three.”

Again the King dealt, and he and Verden played the hand. This time she watched more closely, trying to work out how they were playing and what the animal and season cards meant. It wasn’t just new games, it was a different set of cards. Yet she’d have to learn some of the games just to get by and look the part. She glanced at the King. She needed to learn to be able to play with him.

Laughter from the dance floor distracted her. The Queen was the center of attention, Ladies and Lords spinning around her in a dance that seemed to trap her every time she pretended to get free.

“She’s beautiful isn’t she?” The King’s breath brushed her ear and the hair on her arms prickled to attention.

“She is.” She looked like Snow White with her dark hair and dark eyes; it was no wonder Gwyn had married her.

“Don’t let her looks deceive you. She is cruel and bitter and you would do well to avoid the web she weaves.” He slapped the table, returning attention to the game.

Right, less Snow White more evil Queen. Taryn considered that would be her one and only warning. If she fell into the Queen’s circle, that would be the end of her privilege.

The dance ended and the Queen glided over, her cheeks pink from dancing, her eyes bright, and yet there was no joy in her features. “Come, husband, dance with me.” The Queen held out her hand.

The King paused a moment before getting up. There was still another hand of the card game to go. Would he ignore his wife when so many watched? Everyone seemed to pause to see what would happen. Then he took his wife’s hand, leaving Taryn and Verden at the table alone. They glanced at each other, and Taryn was aware of how many people surrounded them, pretending not to look to see what would happen next. She wasn’t used to living so publicly. Reality TV had nothing on this.

She needed to say something to him. She wanted him to speak to her. “So…is it like this every evening?”

Verden took a sip of his drink and gathered up the deck of cards. “This is the first time in about ten days that both the King and Queen have attended dinner.” He handed her the cards. “There are five suits. Four seasons plus animals. Then there are the majors, which include the eight festivals, like midsummer.”

She fanned the cards over the table and looked at them; each one was a beautiful picture more like tarot than playing cards, but she wasn’t interested in the cards right now. She glanced up at him, but he was looking at the cards.

“Why are you talking to me now when you ignored me before?” She kept her voice soft, not sure if she really wanted to know the answer but figuring it was safer to know.

“Dinner is not the time or place for private discussions. It’s for watching and building alliances. You needed to build one with the King. If you had been speaking with me, what do you think would have happened?” The whole time he spoke, he was pointing to different cards. To anyone watching, it was as if he were explaining the important aspects of each suit.

She nodded. “Okay. I thought it was because…” Because you weren’t interested is what she wanted to say, but she went with a safer option. “I have no status.”

“I have enough of my own not to worry about that.” He looked across the floor. “We have sat for long enough. Let me have the first dance, as I’m sure it will be the only one I get with you tonight.” He picked up the cards and placed them in his waistcoat; then he stood and offered her his hand.

“You don’t leave me any choice.” Yet dancing with Verden would be no hardship, except they would be watched. Were they watching her or him? She was sure he was only doing what was expected. Was she a chore or a pleasure? It was hard to tell when his expression rarely slipped.

She took his hand and let herself be led to the area used for dancing. Fortunately he didn’t drag her into the middle where the King and Queen were doing something that was stiffly formal, and even though they were both smiling, neither seemed to be enjoying it. Even from here, she could feel the tension between them. They hated each other and any goodwill was for show. How had everything gone so wrong?

“Just follow. The steps aren’t that hard,” Verden said as he lifted her hand and placed his other one behind his back. He waited for her to copy.

She looked at the other dancers and realized they were doing the same steps as the King and Queen, but not at the same time. People were at different stages of the same sequence, making it appear like madness at first, but it was really just a repeating pattern. She began to see and feel it in her body. Her palm heated in Verden’s hand.

“You feel it?” He stepped closer.

“Yes.” She did; the magic of the music was in her blood. When she looked at him, he was gazing down at her, heat flickering in his eyes. Right now she didn’t care if she got singed.

As he’d said, the steps weren’t hard. She copied his movements and followed, letting the music flow through her. Different to the mortal music she was used to, this was ancient and powerful. It wasn’t just her pulse she felt increasing; it was Verden’s, as if for the duration of the dance the magic was bringing them closer. They stopped with the music, toe to toe, her body only millimeters from his. One deep breath and her breasts would brush his chest. Her skin tingled. For a moment neither of them moved. He was looking at her with a look in his eyes that could only be called wild and untamed.

She risked that breath; their bodies touched for a moment, long enough to send desire spiraling through her blood. It was closely followed by the hard edge of reason and the sharper blade of danger. She knew why Verden kept his distance when people were watching. It was information that could be used against her…and him.

Verden closed his eyes for a second and stepped back. When he opened his eyes, the cool indifference was back. She knew she couldn’t raise a mask that quickly and wasn’t sure that was a skill she wanted, even though it was one she’d need.

“It’s been a pleasure.” He gave a slight bow. “Should you wish to…escape…for a little while tonight, my offer still stands.” He added in a much lower voice. “I can help you if you trust me.”

Then he released her hand and walked away. She wasn’t naïve enough to think that if they left together it wouldn’t be noticed or spoken about. She glanced at the King and Queen, now dancing with other people. But the music no longer seemed so potent. It didn’t make her want to dance the way it had when Verden had held her hand. She glanced around to try and catch sight of Verden, but he’d vanished.

Others offered their hand and tried to get her to dance, but she shook her head and moved away from the dance floor. There was no way she was going to get dragged into that pit of trouble without a guide; there would be etiquette and unspoken rules that she could only guess at. That and it wasn’t really her kind of music. She much preferred human rock music. Concerts were the best, standing right at the front with everyone, stamping and singing. She missed her life, even though she’d only been pretending to be human. Here, she was pretending to be fairy, and they were all waiting for her to fall over so they could laugh.

“Taryn.” A hand landed on her arm.

Taryn glanced up from the long nails delicately tipped with blue gems and into eyes that were almost white except for the palest tint of pink. The woman had white-blond hair elaborately pinned and braided. Here she was probably considered beautiful—to Taryn she looked freaky, like Halloween meets prom night.

“Can I help you?”

“I knew your mother when she sat at the table.” The woman smiled but didn’t ease her grip.

So did half the Court probably.

“Let us walk and talk,” said the ice blond.

Well, that would be lovely except this woman could be anyone and just being seen with her could ruin the small chance Taryn had of getting her parents home. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure we’ve met. You are?”

The woman laughed. “Did you not see me with the Queen? I am one of her Ladies.”

There were a lot of Ladies around the Queen, and a lot of men—but just because they fawned for attention didn’t mean they liked her or supported her. It could just mean that the Queen had something on them or they wanted a favor only she could grant. Where did the freaky blond fit?

“You need to be seen with me by the Queen or she might think you are interested in her husband and that will not go well for you. At least appear to be aligning yourself with anyone with power. If the King chooses to shower you with attention, then it will at least look like you weren’t seeking it.” The woman began walking, her arm looped through Taryn’s so Taryn had no choice but to follow unless she wanted to make scene. She should have left the Hall of Flowers with Verden. That gossip she could live with.

However, the woman might have a point. She couldn’t afford to piss off the Queen.

“How is your mother?”

“She is well.” As she can be given the situation.

“And your father?” The woman nodded and smiled at a few people as she walked past.

Taryn bit her lip. Her father wanted her mother to return and not risk being caught on the wrong side of the veil, but she wasn’t going to reveal anything of importance to this woman. “My father wishes the best for my mother.”

“She was always stubborn. How stubborn are you, Taryn? I know why you are here, and I know who invited you. What I don’t know is what you are going to do or how far you are willing to go to see your parents reinstated—or at least returned.” The woman stopped and faced her. “Do you have even half your mother’s courage and brains?”

Taryn met the woman’s pale stare even though it chilled her to the core. Fairies could be creepy without even trying hard. “Will half be enough?”

The woman laughed as if Taryn had shared the funniest joke. Others looked over and noticed the exchange. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

“Come find me tomorrow, and I shall help you with your wardrobe. I owe your mother a favor, and I shall consider it paid if I make you more presentable.”

“And who shall I ask for?”

“Sulia. I hope your mother mentioned me.”

Was that an invitation to pry? What choice did she have? She needed to know whose side Sulia was on and if she could trust her. So she lied. “She did. Have things changed since you last saw her?”

Sulia shook her head. “Too bold, child. It is enough to know I don’t wish you or your family ill. Others do. Be warned.” Then Sulia was moving on, leaving Taryn standing there.

That went okay—maybe.

It could have been a whole lot worse.

Sulia was going to help with dresses and such, and she owed her mother. Or Sulia was lying and just taking the opportunity to meddle. Yeah, that was far more likely. Fairies didn’t have friends. They had a web of promises, lies, and lovers. Where did Verden fit?

One of his white dogs sat in an archway, waiting for her to follow. Or at least she hoped that’s what it was doing.

She glanced at the hall filled with beautiful fairies, a rainbow of colors dancing and drinking even as flower petals drifted to the floor. Soon there would be no flowers decorating Annwyn. Her parents didn’t have forever to waste like these fairies had. She had to act, and at the moment, that meant seeing Verden, accepting his offer of help, and crossing the veil.

Chapter 5

Verden leaned against the tree, waiting for Taryn to appear. Would she see his hound and let it guide her? Only if she really trusted him. If she didn’t, he still needed to make sure that she got what she was here for.

Just beyond the rustling of the leaves he heard the lapping of waves that shouldn’t exist. He felt it in his blood that something was wrong with Annwyn. Part of him wished Felan would get his act together. The other part wished the King would find a way to reconcile with the Queen, but maybe that moment had passed. If it had, his role as Hunter had also passed. Once Felan was King, everyone with ties to Gwyn would find themselves demoted at best. Banished more likely. The idea of being cut off from the magic of Annwyn was akin to imagining life without an arm or leg. It was why he was doing his best to be friendly with Felan without betraying the King, but every day that knife-edge became sharper and finer.

What was taking Taryn so long?

Had the King coaxed her into a dance? Was she now gladly in his arms thinking of ways to get her father’s pardon while the Queen watched?

He curled his fingers, remembering the warmth of her hand against his, and the light in her eyes as she’d danced with him—she needed to learn how to hide what she was feeling. Too many people would see too much.

The white dog came strolling across the grass a moment before Verden saw Taryn emerging out of the gloom. He straightened as she approached, his heart beating faster, as if it were him being hunted.

The dog dropped at his feet, tongue lolling. Verden bent down to scratch its ears, then dismissed the animal. He wouldn’t need it in the mortal world. Where he was going, there would be no other fairies.

He gave her a half bow. “I’m so glad you were able to join me.” There was only the lightest touch of sarcasm. He wasn’t used to being kept waiting.

“It took me a while to work my way out.” She paused and he knew she was deciding what to tell him. She was learning, but in that heartbeat, he didn’t want her to learn; he wanted her to remain uncorrupted by the Court. “I had people to speak to.”

“Lots of people will want to talk to you. You are new.” And he wasn’t the only man watching her with interest. However, unlike a fairy, she wasn’t throwing herself at the King—not that many had done that in recent years. The Queen had a habit of making would-be mistresses vanish. “In the coming days, you will need to work out your alliances. You need people who will help you.”

“Like you,” she said with one eyebrow raised, as if she didn’t entirely trust him yet.

He smiled, but he knew it held no warmth. Did she have any idea how quickly he could destroy any hope she had of getting that pardon? One word from him to the King and that would be it. He doubted even Felan could fix that damage, but that would help no one.

While he could pretend he was doing this just to help her, that wouldn’t be true. He wanted to be alone with her and it had nothing to do with Court.

“You shouldn’t be seen with me too often.” She needed to hold the King’s interest and she couldn’t do that if she were on Verden’s arm all the time at Court.

She nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

But she was here in the garden with him, ready to cross the veil. A few moments of being caught in their dance had him wanting to steal more time with Taryn—away from the prying eyes and greedy gossip of Court. He wanted her to himself.

“Shall we go?” If he lingered any longer he might change his mind and decide the risk of this game wasn’t worth the reward.

She hesitated. “Are you sure I won’t get found out?”

“I will do nothing to jeopardize your chances.” That was almost a lie. They were outside the castle in the dark about to sneak away; getting caught would be disastrous. “I cross the veil all the time. No one will suspect we are together.”

Taryn let out a breath, the tension in her shoulders easing. “I really need to speak with my mother.”

Verden looked at her. He knew the old doorways across the veil, but they didn’t act like the main doorway. “That could be a problem.”

“You said you could take me across, that there were hidden doorways.”

“Yes. But they are the old routes, the ones forgotten at the edges of Annwyn. The ones not destroyed by humans.”

“You can’t take me to Charleston?”

“No. But I can take you to the forgotten wilds of the mortal world.” The places he sometimes visited when he wanted to get away from the politics and enjoy the untouched beauty of the mortal world where there were no fairies to police and no rules to enforce.

“Damn it.” She crossed her arms and looked back at the castle. Was she regretting stepping outside to meet him? She spun back to face him, her features half masked by shadows. “Then what is the point?”

Ah, she wasn’t here to be with him. He wasn’t used to rejection; he was the one usually turning down advances, but it didn’t put him off. He liked to hunt, and Taryn was something unique. “We get time alone without being watched. Plus…” He reached into his pocket and produced the cards. “I can teach you to play.”

Her lips parted, and her gaze darted between the cards and his face as if torn. “And what do you expect in return? Nothing is free here.”

“The pleasure of your company.” That was the truth, and tonight he could determine just how far he was willing to play or if this was a distraction from the current chaos and nothing more.

She laughed. “I am not that naïve. You could have any woman here. One with standing and power.”

“I could.” However, they were boring and they sought only to elevate themselves. Taryn was different, and not just because she was a new face at Court. She was here to save her parents and he admired that. He touched her cheek and a shiver ran through his blood. “But then I wouldn’t be standing here with you.”

“What do you want, Verden?”

She used his name, not his title. It had been a long time since anyone had done that and not meant it as an insult.

You, even though it goes against my better judgment. Was he helping her or indulging himself? Maybe both. But he still had to think of Annwyn. “I don’t know.”

For the first time in a long time, he had no plan, no game in play. He took orders from the King and did what he needed to execute them, but that was all he did. Taryn made him want more. He wanted to feel the edge of risk and the rush of desire—and he didn’t want to hide it.

She considered him for a moment. “That I believe.” Then she held out her hand.

Verden hesitated even though he wanted to feel her hand in his again. “You should know there is a bet.”

“About me?”

He nodded. “Whose bed will you fall into first.”

“If you think I will give in so you can win the bet, you flatter yourself.”

“The good money is on Felan or the King.”

Her eyes widened. “Who did you place your money on?”

He took a step closer, invading her personal space; another step and their bodies would be touching. Taryn didn’t step back; she tilted her chin a fraction to meet his gaze. Her lips were soft and full in the starlight. He wanted to close the distance and kiss her. “No one. I said you’d sleep with no one.”

And there had been much amusement at his expense. Right now he was hoping to lose every coin he’d bet. His body hummed; he was harder than a sword and couldn’t remember ever being this intoxicated with lust. He’d forgotten how powerful true desire could be. Too many times he’d made deals and alliances by giving in to a vague attraction. He wanted to step back, to draw breath, and yet he couldn’t. She held him captive by simply questioning his motives. No one questioned him besides the King.

She looked hurt by his assessment. “Do you think I’m cold or unattractive?”

“No, Lady Taryn. I think you have spent too long in the mortal world and that you do not play as casually as everyone else. Sex is currency here; it is traded like gems and silks, given as favors and forgotten just as fast. I don’t think you can do that. Not yet anyway. For that reason alone, there are some who would like to see you broken and corrupted.”

“But not you, because you have honor or something equally lame?” She raised one eyebrow as she mocked him. She was far braver than she realized she was, but instead of her comment raising anger, it only spiked his interest further. She may not trust him, but she wasn’t afraid of him either. Around him, she wasn’t playing games. He wasn’t used to anyone being this honest.

“Honor is such a human term. I am loyal to the King, but I am just as dangerous as any other fairy. I seek my own interests, my own pleasure.” His finger brushed her lips.

Don’t gamble what you can’t afford to lose. He couldn’t afford to lose his heart or his head over a woman. If he wanted sex, he could get it from a handful of different woman tonight. But he didn’t just want sex; he wanted something more—the thrill of the chase maybe. That’s what he’d call it. It had been a long time since he’d had to chase any woman.

A group of fairies ran past, laughing and shedding clothes as they went. No doubt they were looking for a quiet alcove to indulge. Taryn watched them pass, her lips parted and her eyes wide. The midsummer festival would no doubt shock her further.

Verden waited until they’d moved on; then he took her hand and whispered, “Come. Let’s cross the veil.”

They moved quickly through the forest that had once been lusher. As they moved deeper, it became wilder, the trees less constrained and less arranged for beauty’s sake. Gems still grew like mushrooms on the bark, vines still hung from the branches, and flowers hung closed, waiting for daylight—but he could feel the change as they moved away from the castle. Power still throbbed, but it was raw. Unlike the grinning danger of Court politics, this was real, wild, and special. Those that never left the castle missed out on the true beauty of Annwyn. The glory most fairies had forgotten when they’d crossed the veil and taken up residence between life and death.

Beside him Taryn drew in a breath and stopped. She glanced around as if lost. “How far are we going?”

“Not much further.” The place he’d wanted to take her was still a little farther on, perhaps too far for tonight. Another time, maybe. “There is a doorway close by.”

“You won’t leave me there?”

Verden placed his free hand over his heart. “I swear I will not leave you lost, and no harm will come to you while you are with me.”

She searched his face. “Okay.” Her tongue traced her lip. “Where are we?”

“Still in Annwyn, the wilder parts. There are farms farther on, but I don’t go there.” Not anymore. Not since coming to Court and swearing he’d never herd a fairy cow again. People at Court forgot that at the edges of Annwyn fairies lived peaceful, dull lives. They forgot there was a choice beyond the Court or the mortal world.

He stopped in front of a tree with a split up the center just big enough for a man to pass through sideways. He placed his hand on the bark to be sure the gateway was still open and undamaged. The shimmer and ebb of power was there. A collapsed gate felt like a sinkhole. If he found one, he told Felan, so the Prince could seal the wound. It was the Prince’s job to ensure the boundaries between Annwyn and the mortal world were secure. The magic of Annwyn bleeding into the mortal world created problems that usually resulted in death.

Taryn mimicked him. For the first time since he’d seen her this evening, she seemed relaxed. Her face had lost the tension that had edged her eyes. She really didn’t like Court, which was unfortunate, as it could be a lot of fun.

He covered her hand with his. “Do you feel the doorway, the thinning and flux of power?”

She nodded. “Is that how you found it?”

“If you ever come here, or any doorway, and all you feel is a pull like a—”

“Black hole?”

Verden raised his eyebrows. “A what?”

“When a star collapses and its gravity sucks everything in. A black hole.”

He glanced up at the stars and tried to imagine one of them sucking everything in and failed. “If the doorway doesn’t feel like this, don’t use it, as it’s broken.”

“Right, don’t use a broken wormhole.”

Verden looked at her again. “Wormhole?” A doorway to Annwyn was not a hole used by worms.

“I studied physics at school. The doorways are like wormholes, allowing people to cross vast distances in a blink?”

“There is no distance. Annwyn exists in another realm; it overlaps the mortal one and bleeds into it in places.”

“Like the river?”

“Like the river, like the doorways.” He took her hand and led her into the tree, sliding through the gap. “It’s going to be cold on the other side.” Then he stepped through, bracing for the bitter chill. He should have taken her to the other gate.

The wind cut through him as if it were made of frozen razors.

Taryn stepped through and swore. Her body drawing close to him for warmth—for a heartbeat he relished the closeness. But even as he enjoyed holding her, he used the magic he possessed in the mortal world to pull together a cloak of leaves for her and then one for him. The cloak would also absorb some of the blustery wind—not an easy trick but he doubted she’d appreciate just how much magic it took.

“Where the hell are we?” She pulled the cloak around her but still shivered.

“I’m not sure. I know the icecaps are that way, over the ocean.” He pointed to his left. He’d been here a few times. It was wild and remote and no one came here, human or fairy.

Taryn was silent for a moment, strands of her hair whipping around her face. He was half expecting her to ask to be taken back, but she didn’t. She turned and looked around.

It was sunrise, the pink sky against the harsh mountains. She inhaled as if taking in the remoteness. “I don’t think it’s the northern hemisphere.” She plucked a leaf from her cloak and gave it a sniff. “And I don’t think it’s Patagonia or South Africa.”

“Does it matter?”

She nodded. “I like to know where I am. If it doesn’t matter to you, why bring me here and not somewhere else?”

“I like it.” He shrugged. She was right. He could have taken her to a dozen different places but he’d brought her to one of the most remote ones, and one of his favorites. “Why not? Aside from home, where else would you rather go?”

“I don’t know. A city?” She faced him looking hopeful.

“Old doorways. Old places that haven’t been destroyed.” So many doorways had been lost while he’d been Hunter. Humans had spread and multiplied and taken over. Would there be any old doorways left in another couple hundred years?

“Is there somewhere to sit without getting blown away?”

He laughed. “This way.” He led her around the giant gum tree that had been struck by lightning many years ago. Half dead, half alive, Annwyn had claimed it and now it would live for as long as Annwyn stood.

She lifted up the skirt of her dress and followed.

It wasn’t far until they reached a sheltered rock face, but it was far enough that should someone come through after them, it would be unlikely that they found the space he’d made. There was a boulder to sit on and a bottle of wine hidden behind rubble. He tried to keep everything looking as natural as possible. There was no point in coming to enjoy the wildness and then taming it to make it comfortable. When they left, the cloaks would fall apart and compost on the floor of the wilds.

“So, do you come here often?” she said with a smile.

It was hard to judge time when he didn’t spend much of it in the mortal world. Fairies judged by festivals, of which there were eight in a year. “Maybe twice a year.” More frequently of late, simply to avoid talking to people. Lately, Court had lost its luster.

Taryn sat on the rock and he joined her, perching on the edge. Their hips barely touched, yet he was aware of her every move.

“You aren’t too disappointed?”

“Yes and no.” She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Here I can think and breathe, and I don’t have to watch what I say and who I look at, who I smile at.” She glanced at him. “Or do I?”

He returned her smile in response. She was here for the same reason as him—to escape and be free for a short while. When had he come to feel as though Court was trapping him? Once it had been all he longed for, all he lived for. He glanced at her and hoped she never became like him.

Taryn let her gaze skim over him. Even draped in his leafy cloak, he managed to look good, as if he belonged anywhere he sat. However, she knew there had to be a reason he was being nice to her that went beyond attraction. It was never this simple at Court. She knew that much. Maybe it was an order and he was just too polite to say—more likely he’d lied about the bet.

Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Yet staying at dinner had held no appeal, and Verden was right that she needed to learn how to play cards so at least the King wouldn’t tire of her. She needed to get in and get out just as fast, before the King’s interested gaze turned to something else. The bet already suggested she’d sleep with the King or the Prince.

Ugh. While pretty like all fairies, the King unnerved her and Felan was just as scary—maybe more so, as when she spoke to him, she couldn’t work him out. All she was seeing was the tip of the iceberg; the rest was so well hidden.

Like Verden. He only showed her the bits he wanted her to see.

She needed to work on that and get to know him better. “Okay, show me the cards again, and let’s see if I can get a handle on this game.” Here she could play without worrying how many were watching.

He pulled the cards out and shuffled them like a pro before dealing. “Do you need me to go through the rules again?”

She shook her head. “I have them. It’s the cards that throw me. I’m used to four suits, no majors unless you count the royals.”

He was frowning. “But you play card games in the mortal world.”

“We have all kinds of games.”

“If I were to get a set of mortal cards while hunting, would you be able to show me some of the games?”

She placed a card and hoped she was doing the right thing. “Sure…why?”

“The only thing better than a new face at Court is a new game.” He put down a card, forcing her to pick up several. It was a good thing they weren’t playing for coins.

A new game. Maybe she could show the King one of her games. She took her turn, wondering if she should risk asking Verden. He knew the Court better than her…but could use that against her if he chose. Verden was playing his own game, and as much as she wanted answers, she had to be careful. He already knew too much about her and why she was here. “Would the King like to learn a new game?”

“I think he would like anything you showed him.” The edge was back in his voice.

So she hadn’t imagined the King’s interest. “Would it be enough to trade for the pardon?”

“It depends on his mood, but probably not.” He lifted his gaze from his cards. “How far are you willing to go, Taryn? Did your mother warn you of the cost? Did Felan?”

“It’s my parents. I have to do everything I can.” She looked away and pretended to study her cards; the game was meant to be fast and she was thinking too hard about every move. “But I don’t want that kind of attention.”

She didn’t want to be the King’s newest plaything. Verden had said sex was traded for favors, but she couldn’t. She was fairy but not that fairy. Never that fairy.

“He can give you what you want, return your parents before his reign is over.”

Verden was right, yet when she looked at him, he didn’t seem happy about it. Maybe this was a chance for her to press harder and learn something more about him. “Since you know what I want and the workings of the Court, what would you do in my place?”

“I would play the game without getting caught by it.” He touched her cheek, traced her jaw. His fingers were cool, but her skin still heated beneath his touch. Were fairy men really that different from human men?

Many human men just wanted sex and nothing else. Verden’s touch betrayed what he wanted even though his words denied it. He might have bet that she wasn’t going to sleep with anyone, but that wasn’t stopping him from wanting her. At least at Court he kept the desire hidden. Here it burned in his eyes.

“And how do I do that?”

“I don’t know. Not yet anyway. It will take time to unravel, and if you misstep, the Queen will make sure you vanish.”

“And you?” She shifted to face him. “The real reason you brought me here wasn’t just to be nice and help me learn to play cards.”

“It was in part, but I also wanted to get to know you better.”

“How much better?” Her voice was softer, revealing what she felt. The card game was forgotten as they watched each other.

“More than would be safe at Court with everyone watching.” His hand brushed her knee.

“With the King watching,” Taryn corrected.

Verden didn’t reply; he just placed his cards down. “We can’t be friends at Court.”

“What happens in the mortal world stays in the mortal world?” She understood that after just one day there. Having something private meant protecting it fiercely, so others couldn’t use it again her. Secret meetings with Verden would give her something to hold on to as she made it through each day. Already she was constructing a game where she would win. She’d get the pardon for her father and keep Verden for herself…well, until he got bored, but until then, she had someone who’d take her away from Court and teach her the games in private so she stayed ahead of the demands of Court.

He frowned for a moment, then smiled. It was a real smile, not the one he wore at Court. “Exactly. We can do whatever we want away from those who watch and plot.”

In the pale morning light, his gray eyes were almost luminous. She leaned forward. Their lips met, but it wasn’t tentative, the way first kisses should be. His hand wrapped around the base of her skull and his fingers threaded into her hair. Claiming. But instead of resisting, she opened her mouth and let him take what he wanted. He tasted of fairy wine, sweet and sharp all at once. All around her she could smell the earth and eucalyptus trees. Her hand brushed his leg as she tried to steady herself. Beneath her hand there was muscle. The Lord of the Hunt, one of the most powerful men in Annwyn, was here with her. She knew he’d be more perfect than any human she’d ever been with. Her body leaned closer, already hungry for his touch.

Behind her, bushes rustled. She drew back and looked over her shoulder. Someone was there. She could feel the presence.

“There is nothing to fear.” His fingers trailed down her arm, heating her blood and making her heart beat too fast.

“Who’s there?” Had someone followed to spy on them? Was this a setup? She jumped up and took a couple of steps away from him in case she accidentally fell into his arms again. Cards scattered on the ground around her.

“Probably a spriggand or a dryad.”

She spun back to face him. “A what?”

“Wild fae.” He stood. “Not all fae left this world. Some remained. They linger on in the wilds. The rest of us claimed Annwyn and the power that fills the gap between worlds.”

She stared at him. “You’re that old?”

“Lords, no. I was born sometime during the mortal renaissance. But I know my history. When humans learned about iron, we retreated, eventually withdrawing to Annwyn. Those that remained are tied to the earth the way we all were once. As the wilds die out, though, so do they.”

No one had ever told her about the wild fae. “Have you met any?”

“I’ve seen a few, but while we have mixed with humans, they have remained pure. We are like a different species now, bound to Annwyn instead of the earth.” He sounded almost sad. He picked up the cards. “I will teach you Omission before we return. Maybe we should play for stakes to give you incentive.”

She’d been caught before making deals with him, and considering she was most likely going to lose, she didn’t want to owe him anything. “Like what?”

He shuffled the cards as he thought. Strands of his hair pulled free from the tie, catching in the breeze. “If you win, you get another trip across the veil.”

“And if I lose?”

“I take a kiss.” He grinned as though he was enjoying himself and it made her smile.

“Losing sounds like fun.”

“In the short term…but winning is the greater reward.” He dealt the cards.

She watched his hands move as though he’d done this a thousand times before. “You’ve played for sex.”

“And to avoid it. Sex means nothing at Court. I’ve gambled most things to get where I am. Nothing is free, and everything is for trade, and there is always a buyer. Remember that as you pick your allies. Learn who they associate with. Work out what they want or need and you will know how to play them.”

She looked at her cards and then at him. “You want me to win.”

His lips curved and she wanted to feel his mouth on hers again. “I would like to see you again.”

“You will see me at dinner and around Court.” But it wouldn’t be like this. Here they could say what they wanted and that blank expression that he wore at Court was gone. She preferred it when he was smiling. She could forget for a moment she was playing cards with the Hunter, and instead enjoy his company and kisses.

He lifted his gaze from the cards. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

A shiver of warmth traced down her back. They weren’t leaving Annwyn just to play cards; he wanted her and had figured that helping her was the way to her heart.

Two games later, she was still losing. It was worth it just to feel his touch on her cheek or his fingers in her hair as she tasted his lips. She played a card and Verden won again.

He leaned forward. “You’re not really trying.” His lips brushed hers. “Maybe you’re enjoying losing too much.”

“Maybe you should throw the game and let me win.” She held her breath, waiting for the rest of the kiss, but it didn’t come.

“I can’t do that. You need to play to win.” He eased back and picked up the cards, ready to play again. “You’re getting better. You almost won that time.”

She played carefully this time, watching every card, more familiar with their faces and the rules. But she was still slow and her hand wasn’t good. It was, however, complete. She took the risk and ended the game by revealing her cards.

Verden had a much higher value hand—almost.

“You lost on purpose.”

“Did I?”

She went back through the cards he’d discarded. “You could’ve won with a lower hand.”

He nodded. “If you are going to throw the game, it can’t look like you are trying to lose. I was merely going for the best hand I could, but you got in fast with a lesser hand. Sometimes it’s a chance that pays off.”

He was trying to teach her every aspect of the game in a few short hours. And she was getting it as if playing the game and setting the stakes were in her blue fairy blood. “You’ll take me across the veil again?”

Had she really just gambled for a second date? Was this really date?

He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers. “It would be my pleasure…perhaps somewhere warmer?”

She nodded, not sure she trusted herself to speak. Her skin was tingling where his lips had touched. She wanted more than a kiss on the hand. She slid off the boulder and stood in front of him, letting her fingers slide over his thighs.

He watched for a moment, then caught her hands and stood. There was no space between them; she was pressed hard against him. She was pretty sure she was going to melt even though the breeze was icy on her face. He slid one arm around her. Desire burned in his eyes. How did he keep it hidden at Court? She didn’t have time to think as he lowered his lips to hers.

His tongue flicked against her lip and she opened her mouth, wanting to taste him. His fingers slid lower and cupped her butt. She moved against him, feeling the length of his shaft pressing against her. A tiny moan escaped. She was rushing—she shouldn’t even be here with him, and yet she didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“We should be getting back,” he said between kisses.

“So soon?”

“Hmmm.” He gave her a last kiss and slowly let her go.

She took a reluctant step back, gathered up the cards, and made sure that nothing was left behind. Then they walked back to the split tree in silence, the cloak of leaves dragging behind her. She didn’t want to go. Going back to Annwyn was like stepping back into prison. And yet if she didn’t, her parents would die—she would die if she was caught on the wrong side of the veil when Felan seized control. Like a game of cards, the stakes were set and everyone had their hand to play. She’d just proven that sometimes it was better to win on a low hand than hold out for something better. Fast and simple. How simple could she keep things when the Court seemed to thrive on complex twists and plots? When even now she was in the mortal world with a man who’d by his own admission gambled all he had to become Hunter?

How much of him was left?

“Did you grow up at Court?” She just wanted to stall for a few moments more.

He paused before answering, then shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “No, my parents were farmers at the fringes of Annwyn. I came to Court because I wanted more.”

Then he’d climbed his way to Hunter. That was no small achievement. The drive and determination that would take was phenomenal. No wonder he’d had to risk everything on his way to the top.

“Did you find it?” She searched his face hopefully but knew that no matter what he said, she already knew. He was still looking.

“I found status and favor. What more could a fairy want?” He threw his arms wide, but his smile was the hollow Court smile. He was pulling up the mask already and shutting himself away from her.

He was just as bound by duty and loyalty as the King. It was Verden who was caged when all he wanted was the freedom of the wilds. Yet she knew he’d never ask to be released. She placed her hand on his chest. His shirt was delicate and soft beneath her palm, finer than any fabric she was used to in the mortal world. “Humans have a saying: money can’t buy happiness.”

He covered her hand with his. “Humans don’t last long at Court.”

Verden slid off his cloak and it fell apart, the leaves scattering on the ground. Then he flicked hers off. Without the cloak’s protection, the wind bit through her dress. Her arms prickled with gooseflesh. His face was a perfect mask again, unreadable, detached. The man she’d kissed and played cards with no longer existed.

“I will see you returned to the castle.”

“And you?”

“I will follow later. We wouldn’t want word reaching Felan or the King.” He stepped into the gap in the tree and was gone.

Taryn took one last look at the mortal world, wishing she didn’t have to go back, then stepped through. The heavy scent of blossoms and greenery assaulted her. Her blood surged as if she’d been plugged in and was sucking up power—which is exactly what was happening.

Verden was a few paces away, waiting in the shadows. It was still night, as if no time had passed in Annwyn while they were gone. As if the time they’d shared had never existed.

He handed her the cards. “Keep them for next time.”

“Thank you.” She’d learned more about the Court and the way it worked in those few short hours than she had all day. Most importantly she’d proved to herself that she could play their games. Perhaps she could even play the King.

“Don’t thank me yet.” Then he turned and led the way back to Castle Annwyn.

Chapter 6

Verden lingered in the shadows, making sure Taryn walked back to the castle safely. He had no intention of returning to Court tonight. He would go and check up on a few things. With more breeches of the veil, there was more trouble and the Greys were stirred up—as were those in exile, although he didn’t blame them for wanting to live.

He shouldn’t want Taryn, yet he couldn’t stop himself.

He lifted his head and gazed at the stars, which were far brighter in Annwyn than the mortal world. An easy smile formed on his lips. The heat of her touch still hummed in his blood. The memory of her skin, pale in the morning light and the cloak of leaves wrapped around her like she was part wild fae, leading him into unknown forests, lingered like a dream after waking. She was wild and dangerous. She didn’t play by the rules because she didn’t know them. And he would follow where she led because for the first time in a very long time, he was interested in something, someone. She made him feel like rolling the dice and risking it all.

That was his mistake. He’d let lust take the place of rules and deals.

Lust got people killed or banished or exiled. Stepping on the King’s toes in public would find him stuck on the wrong side of the veil permanently.

He gave a low whistle. A few heartbeats later, a white horse paced through the trees, two hounds at her side. All animals in Annwyn obeyed his call, as he was the Hunter. He swung himself up onto the horse, his fingers threading through the pure white mane, then urged her on with his knees. She galloped toward the doorway, the one monitored by the Prince and watched by too many spies.

The hounds yipped and bounded along. With a laugh, the rider, the horse, and the dogs plunged through the doorway and into the troubled mortal world. He’d look around, check the areas where there had been problems so he could report back, and act as though he’d been working all night. While he was in the mortal world, he needed to find a deck of human cards for Taryn…

It was daylight in Annwyn when he returned, cards in hand. He eased off his horse and let her go. She whickered and then trotted away. The hounds shook themselves and he gave them both a pat before letting them run free. He’d call them if needed, but for the moment, they deserved to be just animals, not his loyal servants.

As soon as he walked into the castle, he knew something was wrong. The brittle brown leaves crunching underfoot just reinforced the sensation and tightened his gut. Instead of going to the main hall to eat, he changed course and went to the Hall of Judgment. The doors swung open before him.

People turned to see who was arriving, and the crowd quickly parted to let him through. The King was standing, his arms crossed.

The Queen was also standing, her lips pressed tightly together. She looked at Verden with undistilled hate. “I can see how well you value justice when your Hunter can’t be bothered showing up.”

Verden fixed his smile in place and gave a small bow. “Apologies. I have been across the veil. I had no idea a session had been called.”

He straightened and had a quick glance around to further appraise the situation. The Prince was to the side of the dais, with a woman kneeling at his feet—he was guarding the defendant, which should have been Verden’s job. For a heartbeat, Verden thought it was Taryn, but she was standing at the front of the crowd with the Queen’s bitch, Sulia. That was possibly worse. Sulia was clever and cunning and always looking to advance herself. Unlike Rhodia, she never played for keeps, just leverage. Sulia was scheming something, but he didn’t know what. No one did, but Verden didn’t mistake that for innocence the way a less experienced courtier would.

“The Queen has accused Darah of theft and calls for her death. Yet without proof, I will not condemn her.” The King was firm.

Verden knew exactly what this was about. Darah had stolen a mirror from the Queen for Felan, stopping the Queen’s lover from overthrowing the King. However, instead of moving on and pretending the failed plot hadn’t happened, the Queen was making it public. What was she hoping would happen? Or was she merely using Darah to prove to Felan that she knew what he’d done?

Had she so little love for her son?

For Annwyn?

For a moment, he wished he’d stayed in the mortal world. The acrimony between King and Queen was tangible, like frost on the tip of his tongue. More petals fell from the vines above.

“What would you suggest? That I let her walk freely around the Court, so she can help herself to whatever she wants?” She scanned the crowd as if looking for support.

Behind him, people murmured for her banishment even though there was no proof. The Queen still held enough sway that few would openly speak against her. Except him. He would have to step into the fray even though he’d rather distance himself.

Verden looked at Felan. This was his doing, and he’d had a hand in it because it had been the right thing to do. Yet neither of them could own up to their involvement. There was only one option.

“Perhaps the Lady Darah could be taught a lesson.” Verden widened his smile as if he liked the idea.

“Continue,” said the King. Whatever punishment he prescribed wouldn’t be enough in his wife’s eyes. And Felan couldn’t speak for the woman or be involved, not unless he wanted to become tainted. Once again it was up to him to try and keep the peace between King and Queen.

He was growing rather tired of it—yet the alternative of throwing the Court into winter was unthinkable.

“A shadow servant for a year and a day.” It was a common enough punishment. One that would save her life, but also strip her of status and force her to be part of the Court without being able to enjoy it—and she wouldn’t be able to speak the truth about what had happened.

He thought he saw her shoulders sag in relief. He could’ve condemned her, but she didn’t deserve that. He wasn’t cruel like the last Hunter.

The Queen considered Verden for a moment. He wanted to step back and get away from her. She would plot against him for not suggesting Darah’s death. He was sure there would be payback, a knife in his bed, if not between his ribs.

“Very well. Being a shadow is akin to death anyway.” She tossed her head and stepped off the dais as if she were bored with the whole affair. She brushed past but didn’t spare him a glance. Oh yeah, he was in trouble. He’d have to find a way to soothe her—although that may be more unpleasant than the payback. He’d debate his options later. Several of her Ladies followed, including Sulia. Verden held his breath, but Taryn didn’t follow. Good.

Her gaze caught his for a fraction of a heartbeat and he wanted to stop time so he could enjoy it instead of pretending he didn’t care. If the Queen knew he was spending time with Taryn, she would become the target. And if the King knew, he’d lose interest and Taryn wouldn’t get her pardon. Already Verden was longing for another trip across the veil with Taryn. He wanted to be able to drop his guard and relax.

Felan gave him a small nod, but that was as close to thanks as he was going to get.

Gradually, the others filtered out of the chamber, though a few remained to see the punishment carried out—Taryn among them.

* * *

She’d wanted to be invisible for most of the argument. By the time Verden had walked in—still in the clothes he’d been in last night—most of the bickering was done. It had been ugly, with neither of them budging from their original stance for fear of loss of face. She knew there was more going on than what she was seeing, but she didn’t dare ask what. Not until later. Verden would tell her. Maybe.

The cold-smiling courtier was back and looked especially grim this morning.

She stood silent as the woman knelt before the King, and he placed his hand on her head. At first nothing happened. Then there was a shimmer of darkness and the woman was gone—only her shadow remained.

Taryn gasped. Someone behind her snickered.

The King calmly placed a silver coin into his pocket and turned away to talk to his son. The shadow stood and glided away, faceless and voiceless, trapped in silent servitude for a year and a day. Taryn’s stomach rolled and she turned away, wishing she hadn’t stayed. However, curiosity had gotten the better of her. Others were leaving now that the drama was over, and she slunk away.

The more she learned here, the more she wanted to go home. And yet if she didn’t stay and succeed, she would have no home to go back to. She bit her lip and refused to let tears form. For a moment, she fought for composure, but even when she found it, it was fragile and she knew it wouldn’t hold up to the scrutiny of playing games and making false friends; she’d had enough of that this morning from Sulia.

For all the helpful advice that Sulia had offered about what was fashionable at the moment, she’d also tried to pry beyond what was polite. Sulia also held sway over several other Ladies. Taryn didn’t want to become accidentally indebted to Sulia. However, she couldn’t hide in her room, as she had to be seen.

“You walking alone?” Verden fell into step beside her.

“Not anymore.” She didn’t dare look at him in case her feelings showed in her eyes, but she felt the warmth of his body as he brushed too close against her. “You risk speaking to me?”

She’d thought they would avoid each other totally at Court. Not that she would refuse his company. It had taken her a long time to fall asleep last night—and not because she was thinking of the card game.

“You are invited back to the table for dinner. If I ignored you completely, more questions would be raised.” He stopped walking. “Don’t underestimate the Queen’s reach or obsession with causing misery.” He spoke very softly.

“You have displeased her.”

“Which I will fix.”

Taryn grimaced.

“I do what I have to, as do you.” But his eyes gave him away, the smoky gray burning with a heat he couldn’t hide. If she stepped closer, she’d be consumed—and then everyone would know.

“When can we play cards again?” In private away from here. Somewhere she could see him truly smile, where she could relax and stop pretending she knew what she was doing. But she couldn’t say that.

“Soon, I hope.”

“Until dinner then?” She gave him a small smile that she hoped was suitably formal and yet hinted at more.

“I look forward to it.” He inclined his head, but his gaze never left her. He wasn’t saying that to be polite. Then he left her standing just outside the Hall of Flowers as if they’d been discussing nothing more significant than the weather.

It was only when she went back to her room—after being shown how to play dice by a couple of men obviously seeking to win the bet that was pinned to her back like a target—that she found Verden’s gift.

Tied with a pale orange ribbon were five packs of human cards. She grinned as she undid the ribbon and opened the first pack. She thumbed the cards with their familiar suits. Never had something so mundane been so powerful.

Chapter 7

Tonight was a test. Everyone at the King’s table knew it and so did she. The first time she’d been new and the King had been curious because he’d known her mother well. Tonight was about her. Was she interesting enough to keep around?

She’d slid a deck of human cards into her dress and made sure they were secure and hidden. Dressed in yellow, she looked far more confident than she felt, which was exactly as it should be. As the shadow served the food, she suppressed the urge to stare into the featureless face to try and see if she could find the person inside and ignored the nauseating roll of her stomach at the thought of becoming one of those…not creatures, not people anymore, just blank, silent shadows.

One wrong move and that’s where she’d end up. She smiled a little too brightly and laughed at the joke. The Queen was almost being civil and everyone was on edge. When her gaze slid over Verden, even his careful mask seemed to have slipped. She could see the steel in his eyes instead of the illusion of nothing. Today he looked more dangerous; the razor edge had been sharpened. She flicked a glance at Felan. Him too.

Interesting or worrying? How deep in the game was she? Did it matter when she couldn’t fold her cards and bow out? Her parents’ lives were in the pot and she had to win it.

The King raised his hand; a shadow brought out cards.

Taryn reached into her dress and pulled out her pack. That got some attention. She grinned. “How about a new game?”

That killed all the conversation at the table. Then it spread as everyone in the hall realized something was going on.

The King looked at the pack in her hand. “What are these?”

“It’s a deck of mortal cards—four suits, two jokers, ace through to King, and no majors.”

The King’s eyes narrowed. “A new game, with new cards?”

Did he think she was up to something? Well she was, but given his suspicion, she wasn’t going to suggest gambling for her parents’ freedom tonight. No, this was an old King used to people sucking up and trying to extract favors. She had to do better. She had to give him something so he wanted to give her anything she asked. Still a game, but a much more subtle one. She was so proud of herself for thinking she had half a plan.

She drew the cards out and shuffled. As she did, she carefully eyed every member of the table. “I need a volunteer to learn first, to show everyone how it’s done. Then up to seven people can play.”

Neither the King nor the Queen would volunteer. They wouldn’t risk being made a fool of. Her gaze settled on Felan. “Prince?”

Felan considered her for a moment and she thought he was going to accept. “I wish to watch and learn. Hunter, are you game?”

That was when she realized the true extent of his role. Every job that the royal family wanted to avoid, every hard choice, was his. And any blame that needed shifting would be his as well if push came to shove. Did he realize he was being fucked over, or was he enjoying it?

Verden’s lips turned up on one side in a predatory smile. “I’m always game.” The gleam in his eye wasn’t pretend.

“Very well.” She made sure she sounded as though she didn’t care who she played against, but her heart was hammering hard on her ribs. She spread the cards carefully on the table so they could be viewed.

While the expressions didn’t change, everyone leaned a little closer. Conversation had returned to the hall, but people kept glancing over, curious about what she was doing.

“Across the veil, these are the cards that people use to gamble with.” She plucked one of the jokers out. “We won’t need both the wild cards tonight.”

“We already have one at the table.” The Queen gave a little laugh.

Taryn gave her a smile. Be nice to the Queen or she will make life hell…literally, since she was married to the King of Death.

“Poker. It’s a simple game. You make the best hand you can and bet on it, hoping your opponent hasn’t got one better.”

“Like Omission.” Verden met her gaze.

“No. It’s about the cards in your hand, not the ones you don’t have. Plus, you can’t force your opponent to pick up extra cards.”

That caused a ripple.

She explained the rules as best she could, and Verden manned up and agreed to play her. No stakes. Again that caused a few murmurs. A game with no stakes?

“If anyone else would like to try the new game and set stakes, please take my seat.” Verden went to stand.

“No. A new game deserves time to be learned.” The King gave his permission for her to deal and begin.

The people on her side looked at her cards the same way those on Verden’s side were looking at his. No one mentioned card names, but there was a fair amount of pointing and nodding going on. “If we were betting, now would be the time.”

Verden nodded, his gaze flicking between her and the cards.

She placed two cards down. A jack and an ace that were of no use to her, as they were the wrong suit.

“But—”

Taryn placed her finger on her lips. Verden threw out three cards. She dealt replacements. “A last chance for bets…or for folding…or bluffing.” She gave him a smile and lowered her lashes.

“You could be pretending to have a winning hand when you hold nothing.”

She nodded. “How confident are you in your cards?”

“So you could be lying?”

“Pretending. Isn’t that always the case? One must work out what is truth and what is lie?” He’d told her that.

The King nodded, as if warming to the game. “Verden, do you hold the winning hand?”

Verden looked at his cards again, then at her. His eyes burned with an intensity that would have brought a mortal to her knees in a quivering mess. But she was fairy. He couldn’t enchant her or glamour her into revealing the truth with just a glance. No, but she could affect him. She held his gaze and ran her tongue over her lip slowly and his gaze dropped for just a moment.

“I fold.” He placed his cards facedown.

Taryn placed hers down. “I win by default.”

“If we’d gambled, I would have lost.” Verden gave a shake of his head, as if the idea of losing was beneath him.

She reached over and turned over his cards. “You would have lost even if you hadn’t folded.”

“Part chance, part skill, part ruse.” The King nodded. “I like it.” He beckoned over a shadow. “Fetch some coins. I want to see the flow of money.”

Taryn swallowed and Verden drew in a breath. They were the entertainment. Not quite what she’d had planned, but the King was funding the game, so neither of them could refuse. On the other hand, she had an excuse for paying close attention to Verden—in case he started bluffing.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the table to join in, and since the King had put up the coins, the only thing they were actually risking was loss of face. No one wanted to look stupid, but they picked up the game fast and were well practiced in deception. Despite the dangers, she began to enjoy herself. Most importantly, she was learning more about the people who held the power simply by how they played.

Taryn glanced at Verden. When was he planning on taking her across the veil again? Tonight? He was so hard to read when he was here. And yet, when he lifted his gaze and looked at her, there was something more there than when he studied his other opponents.

Patience.

She’d never been patient, but then neither were humans. Their lives went by so fast compared to fairies, who lived for centuries or longer. She glanced at the King. He smiled at her with more warmth than she was comfortable with. This time there was no mistaking his interest.

Verden’s question rung in her ears. How far are you willing to go, Taryn?

It was still one question she couldn’t answer. Or one she didn’t want to answer. She liked to think she’d do anything so her parents could live…but in Annwyn, anything was rather broad and all encompassing. And the man she wanted wasn’t the King. She knew why Verden was so keen to only see her in the mortal world.

“I’m done for the night.” She pushed her small pile of wooden coins toward the King.

“Keep them. A token of my gratitude for the new game.” His hand lingered on hers.

She was sure she could feel Verden bristle, but she didn’t dare look at him. She smiled at the King as if delighted and his gaze warmed for a moment. Could she really do this?

There was no other choice but to accept the coins. She inclined her head and knew she’d bought her place at the table for a few more nights, but she was going to have to do something soon.

* * *

Felan crossed the veil back to Annwyn. Repairing all the tears and trying to stop the bleeding of death into the mortal world was becoming more and more time-consuming, and he had other things he needed to be doing—like working out who was plotting against him. He hoped it wouldn’t come to battle, but since his mother had her hand in it, bloodshed was inevitable.

He walked past a group of women playing Boule, something fairies had taken into the mortal world. Card games, however, had been a human invention that fairies had perfected. Sulia and her constant group of four followers, plus Taryn. He stopped, turned, and strolled back. The women glanced up and smiled. Sulia’s was more personal than the others.

She was forever hopeful that he’d invite her back to his chamber. Annwyn would freeze over before that happened.

“May I interrupt your game for a moment?”

“Would you care to join us?” Sulia raised one eyebrow.

Taryn was making sure to be seen in all the right places. It was like looking at Arlea and watching her craft the subtlest of plans for his father.

“I just want to walk with Taryn for a moment. I will return her.”

Sulia’s face hardened for a moment. “I would be happy to walk with you if it is company you seek.” Her smile was back.

He needed to make it clear that he wasn’t favoring Taryn by requesting her presence. “Not pleasure I’m afraid, but business. Taryn.” He beckoned her forward and started walking, not waiting for her to join him.

Taryn caught up. While she was doing a much better job of masking what she was thinking, he could see the worry in her eyes. “What have I done?”

“You tell me. Where did you get the cards?” His voice was carefully level, and he hoped he’d get the truth from her and not a delicate lie. She was here on his command and out of respect for her father. He didn’t want to be sending her away. He couldn’t afford to send her away. He needed her…if he could trust her.

“A friend acquired them for me.” She met his gaze without blinking.

Which friend? But that wasn’t his business. At least she hadn’t left Annwyn. “I know what you are trying to do.” It was what he hoped she’d do, but it wasn’t enough.

“Do you?”

Felan smiled. Taryn acted more human than she realized. He liked that she wasn’t afraid to talk to him and that she wasn’t trying to sleep with him to raise her status. Maybe she could help him further.

“Your games are attractive enough, but it won’t last for long. If you don’t ask for something small soon, his suspicions will be raised. So do you have a favor you could ask? Something almost worth nothing?”

She frowned for a moment. “Maybe. Why are you helping?”

He didn’t break stride but he paused before answering. He wasn’t used to sharing his reasons with anyone, but then again, few asked. “I don’t want Chalmer to die, but not even I can ask for his return.” Taryn could, and he needed her to succeed.

“Are my parents okay?”

“They are fine. I told them you have been well received. Your mother was pleased.”

“You forbade me from leaving Court, but I could ask to see my grandmother.” She watched him, waiting for a reaction, but he ignored the jab. She couldn’t be at Court one day and gone the next if she was to get her father’s pardon. Keeping her here was in everyone’s best interest—including Taryn’s.

He gave a small nod in the direction of the other women. “You play with dangerous friends.”

“Oh, I don’t trust them as far as I can throw them, but enemies close and all that.”

“Indeed. You are doing well.”

“I just want the damn pardon.”

“If it were easy, I would have done it already.” He had tried a couple of years ago and his request had been denied. Taryn was his last hope of getting Chalmer pardoned. “You will have to deal for your father’s life.”

“I know, but I’m not sure I like the price.” Her fingers crushed the delicate fabric of her dress as she made a fist. Worry pinched her features.

It took a moment for him to realize what she was so worried about. He laughed, then lowered his voice. “You don’t know my father. He hasn’t taken a mistress, ever.”

“But…”

“It’s a show. Everyone thinks he does, even the Queen. But he gets more enjoyment from watching her squirm than he would from a lover—then, of course, he’d have to keep two women happy. No. Being King is enough work without making it harder.” He touched her arm. “Keep the secret alive.” He began leading her back to the game. “We can help each other, Taryn. I will watch out for you, if you watch out for me.” He let the sentence hang. It was several paces before she spoke.

“Spy.”

He stopped walking. “Yes.” That was exactly what he wanted. She was in the one place he couldn’t go.

She shrugged, and her gaze drifted from his to the other women who were pretending to play while trying to watch what was going on. “You think they are up to something.”

“Everyone is always up to something.” He knew that the threat was in the Queen’s camp. He needed someone he could trust and who was trusted—or at least untainted by previous alliances. Taryn was that person. Deals and games. And the stakes were getting higher. Soon, he’d be all in.

“I don’t want to end up trapped as a shadow.”

“It could have been worse for her.” If Verden hadn’t have shown up, it would have been. He needed to get the Hunter more firmly in his pocket, but it was damn hard. “I will not ask you to do anything other than listen and tell me what you hear. Your father would never forgive me if I let harm befall you.”

“In exchange, you make sure I stay at the table.”

“I will do what I can to help you get the pardon. Go. They are waiting and I don’t want Sulia to think I am favoring you with too much attention.”

Taryn lifted the hem of her dress and walked back to the game, but he didn’t stay to watch them pepper her with questions. He had other business to attend to before going back to the mortal world.

* * *

Taryn braced herself as she walked back. They would want to know what the Prince had wanted to talk to her about and she was going to have to lie—or at least be very creative with the truth.

“Well?” Sulia asked, but the others all hovered with expressions ranging from rehearsed boredom to eagerness—which was probably also rehearsed.

“He wanted to see how I was doing at Court and make sure I had some new games to bring to dinner.”

“That was dull,” said the brunette.

Taryn looked at the woman, trying to remember her name, but didn’t answer. Knowledge was power here. It was better to let people think she wasn’t catching on than have them wise up. Already she was being included in the gossip of who fancied whom, who was being shunned for a slight. It was like reading those magazines filled with celebrity gossip, only the people were being pointed out to her. Rhodia. That was her name. Always preening.

“And do you?”

Er…she was pretty sure that Black Bitch and Snap weren’t going to win her any friends. “Of course.” Euchre maybe if she could remember how to play before dinner. What a pity there wasn’t Monopoly in Annwyn; she was sure they’d like that, or maybe Risk.

Could Verden raid a toy store for her and get some more games?

Not that Verden had spoken to her since learning how to play poker, and even then nothing had been said that meant anything. He’d passed her this morning without pausing, too busy talking to another man. That they were virtually ignoring each other at Court just made her want him more. She hoped he felt the same. But she couldn’t rely on him to fetch what she asked for. No board games. Besides, they liked cards and dice and gambling, but also strategy. Black Jack was probably too simple, and they’d all be counting cards in no time.

“Maybe you could tell us more about the mortal world. You must be so glad you are here.”

Oh yeah, it was a laugh a minute. “What would you like to know today?”

This was the trade; she got their company while she told them snippets about the mortal world. Some of them had never left Annwyn—Rhodia had never left Court. She’d been born in the castle and thought that gave her status. Sulia, on the other hand, knew more about the mortal world than she let on. Sulia knew more about everything.

“About human men. Are they rough and uncivilized?”

“Some, others are delightful.” It had always been a shame she couldn’t be with them for too long. It became too hard because she had no house and no car and technically didn’t exist in the mortal world.

“Have you slept with one?”

“We aren’t allowed to take a human lover.”

“Remember what happened to Ancelin?”

The other women shook their heads as if they shouldn’t even be talking about it.

Taryn managed not to roll her eyes. They took their social standing so seriously, they wouldn’t have any fun.

She’d give them some gossip and maybe make them jealous. “Of course I’ve had sex with human men. Five of them.”

There was a gasp.

“Well, I suppose you had no other choice.” Rhodia looked at her like she needed sympathy.

Taryn bristled. “Actually I had my pick of men. Some were my lovers for quite a while.” Six months was a long time in the mortal world. After that, things got complicated. “You should really cross the veil more often. It can be a lot of fun, going to movies, going shopping, going to nightclubs and rock concerts.” Homesickness stabbed her in the gut and twisted. God she missed the mortal world. She may not have fit in perfectly there, but at least she knew her place.

The other women looked at her like she’d suggested they all run around naked.

“Why would we want to spend any more time there than required?” Rhodia picked up a ball, tired of the conversation.

Taryn opened her mouth, but someone else cut in.

“He’s back,” one of the women whispered.

While no one actually moved to look, all eyes drifted across to the man on the horse who’d just come through the doorway. They could have played anywhere around the castle, but this was the place to be, watching the comings and goings from Court. Verden was back from the mortal world. He looked grim. His lips were pulled into a thin line. He rode past their game without even looking at them.

She carefully released the breath she’d been holding. She expected him to at least acknowledge her existence and that the women were standing there instead of slighting everyone and going straight past.

“Well that was rude,” Rhodia said, and Taryn had to agree. “Usually he stops to speak to me.” She stroked a coil of hair.

Taryn looked at Rhodia, who was still watching Verden. Did she fancy him? Probably. He was the highest-ranking bachelor here. Had she unwittingly stepped between Rhodia and Verden?

“Word is he’s been in a vile mood.”

“I wonder why. It’s not as if any woman would kick him out of her bed.”

Taryn hoped she wasn’t the cause of his mood. Did he regret letting her win another trip across the veil? “I heard he’s been hunting more, troublesome Greys. Or maybe he wishes to spend time away from Court.” The words were out before Taryn could stop them, but someone needed to put the bitch Rhodia back in her box.

Rhodia glared at Taryn.

Now might be a good time to walk away from the game before she said anything that might compromise her further. She needed to be more careful around Rhodia. Taryn smiled at Sulia as if she’d truly enjoyed the game. “I think I might go to the library for a while.”

Sulia gave her a pitying look. “You have so much to catch up on, you poor thing.”

Sitting and listening to the singing stones was a respite from the constant socializing and yet a perfectly acceptable pastime as she was learning about Annwyn. She walked back into the castle. The leaves were more golden today, and more petals carpeted the ground.

She swept past the tables of games in the Hall of Flowers, past the Prince and Verden, who were having a quiet discussion over dice. Like him, she didn’t let her step falter, but she was beginning to wonder if he’d ever take her to the mortal world again. Ever kiss her again even though she knew he hadn’t risen to Hunter by breaking his word.

It was hard to be patient when she wanted to feel the press of his lips on hers. She wanted to see his smile reach his eyes. She wanted to get away from Annwyn, if only for a few moments, to let out all the frustration that was building.

The Court was carrying on as if nothing was happening, as if the flowers weren’t dying and the leaves weren’t falling. They feasted while more souls were arriving than ever before and the river swelled like a leech feasting on the upset. She wanted to scream at the pettiness of it all. It was like the sodding Titanic. Play on, boys, and ignore that the ship is sinking. The party must go on!

She walked across the hall and through the corridor that was ribboned in sunlight sneaking between the thinning leaves, and then into a chamber, which was like a dome. A huge dome littered with gray stones. Some were only fist sized, while others reached for the roof like Stone Age monuments. Sulia had shown it to her and given her the chance to listen for a few minutes before moving on. Sulia had been far too nice, letting her join in even though the other women thought she was beneath them. Sulia definitely wanted something, but Taryn hadn’t worked out what it was yet. Until she did, she had to be careful.

However, she was grateful that she knew of this place. It was the perfect place to hide, learn, and stretch. She wasn’t used to sitting around all day with a smile stuck to her face. She let her shoulders ease and the smile fade. Why Verden hadn’t included it in his tour was a mystery. But then, he’d only shown her the social aspects and tempted her with promises of trips to the mortal world.

She sat against a medium-sized rock and closed her eyes. The song swelled around her when she touched it, a battle for the throne. Gwyn’s battle for the throne. She was sure there was a way to find specific pieces of history, but for the moment, anything was fine. If anyone came in, she was simply doing some study, learning her heritage or something along those lines, but she doubted she’d be disturbed. The grass didn’t look as though it saw many feet. She ran her fingers over the soft green tips and listened to the song of an ancient battle and the destruction it had caused to both worlds.

Winter and plague.

Loss of love and life. The woman Gwyn had planned to marry killed by his brother. The Queen a substitute, the younger daughter of a human king that Gwyn had befriended. Had they ever truly been in love or had it always been duty that was now bringing bitterness? As they bickered, people died.

Fairies brought death. Is that what her heritage was? Is that all she had to offer?

Her parents wanted to live. She wanted a life. She wanted love. Love like her parents had, able to hold fast no matter how bad it got. It was possible, no matter what she’d seen so far at Court—just maybe not possible at Court.

Verden formed in her mind. He wouldn’t know love if it bit him on the ass. Her lips curved as she wondered what his ass would look like; the long waistcoats that were in fashion at the moment hid far too much. Now, a nice pair of jeans that showed off his butt and thighs, a slightly tight T-shirt. She’d tug his hair out of the binding and let it hang loose.

Yeah, he was trouble even when she dressed him as a human.

“You’re smiling at an epic battle that killed a third of all fairies.” Her daydream spoke.

Taryn opened one eye, then the other. Verden was standing in front of her. Pink crept up her cheeks—how did the other women control that? “You’re intruding on my thoughts.”

He looked at her for a moment, then bowed. “I shall leave you to them.”

“Please don’t.” She didn’t know when she’d get to talk to him again. She went to stand, and he offered her his hand to help. Their palms touched. His was rougher, warmer. He drew her up as if she weighed nothing, and she ended up standing far closer to him than she’d intended. She tilted her chin a fraction to look up at him.

Then he kissed her. His mouth sealed hers, hard and urgent. He moved closer, pressing her against the stone she had been listening to. It was cold against her back, but she didn’t care. His tongue traced her lower lip before slipping past and coaxing a moan from her. It was no longer just the magic of Annwyn flowing through her blood. Pure lust burned through her veins, hot and heady. Her fingers caught the edges of his waistcoat.

He drew back a fraction. “I had to see you.”

For an answer she kissed him. Every time he’d walked past without looking at her, or looked but did not stop to talk, had been for show. They couldn’t be friends here. He’d kept his word…so why was he breaking it now?

Anyone could walk past.

She broke the kiss off even though she was still hungry for his touch. The way his body pressed against hers left nothing to her imagination. His body was firm, and he wanted her just as much as she needed him in that moment. But the fineness of the fabric and the friction of the embroidery on his waistcoat were a reminder of how above her station he was. Whatever was happening wouldn’t go far. She would leave; he would remain. He was a Court fairy, and she wanted to go back to the mortal world where games didn’t kill.

“It’s been noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time away from Court. The Ladies are talking.” Her lips brushed his as she spoke, stealing another taste.

“I’ve been working. They should try it sometime.” He took another kiss that left her breathless, the way no human man had ever done.

“Thank you for the cards.”

“I’m glad I got the chance to play with you.” His hand cupped her cheek. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to ignore you?”

Of course she did. She wanted to say, “Then let’s stop and see what happens,” but she couldn’t. She knew that if the King saw her with another man, his favor would end. As much as she hated it, she needed his attention. She just hoped Felan knew as much about his father as he claimed. “I wish it wasn’t this way.”

“It won’t be forever.”

Would she tire of him when the thrill was missing? If she could be with him in public, there would be no burning expectation to see him again. She was here for a reason, not a good time—and not a long time. They both knew that.

“How come you didn’t show me this place?”

“Hard to make connections if you’re hiding.” His hand traced over her ribs and brushed the side of her breast.

Her back arched a little, daring him to go further. He watched her as his thumb swept over her nipple, the peak pressing against her dress. He lowered his head to take another kiss, slower and deeper this time.

A dog yipped and he stepped back as if touching her burned. “I have to go.” He glanced at the door. “Tonight, after dinner.” Then he turned on his heel and walked away.

Taryn stayed where she was, catching her breath and trying to calm her body. Human men had never made her feel like that. She swallowed and eased her back away from the stone, smoothing her skirts and hoping that she looked respectable. Her finger touched her lips. She could ignore him—she could ignore him really well if he would do that more often.

Chapter 8

Verden caught Taryn’s gaze from the other end of the table as he raised his goblet. He’d promised her a trip across the veil tonight. He needed the trip. Between Court and hunting, he needed the peace of the wilds—any wilds would do, although he had his favorite places. He hadn’t decided where to take Taryn tonight. Somewhere different. Warmer. He had ideas of easing the dress from her body and tasting her skin.

For a moment he let himself enjoy the idea before shutting it down. Not because he didn’t want her—it had been a while since he’d acted on lust without considering all the possible implications—but because he didn’t want it showing on his face.

The King laughed as Taryn showed him another game. Jealousy stabbed beneath his ribs and twisted. He wanted to be the one sitting next to her and laughing, yet it had been so long since he’d seen Gwyn look as though he was enjoying himself that he couldn’t begrudge the man some happiness. He just wished someone else were causing it, and he didn’t want to be the one ruining it. Jealousy had no place in his heart—and his heart had no place at Court.

He glanced at the Queen, dancing with her son and a few of his friends as if there was nothing wrong. Felan was doing his best to keep her occupied, to keep her from spoiling the temporary peace. Did anyone in this room realize how hard some of them were working to keep everything going?

Probably not.

Every day there were more unfamiliar faces. Those who weren’t in exile or banished were making their way back to Court. Most were making their presence known, reswearing loyalty and leaving for the villages at the fringes until the storm blew over.

Part of him wanted to do the same.

He finished his glass of wine and signaled for a refill.

Taryn’s laugh drew his attention again. For a moment he let himself watch her and only her. He didn’t want to see the way Gwyn smiled at her or the way his hand touched hers for longer than was needed. She was playing her own game. If he fouled it up for her, she wouldn’t speak to him again—and he certainly wouldn’t get the privilege of sneaking across the veil with her.

He should’ve gone looking for trouble in the mortal world instead of watching her empty smiles and meaningless touches. His stomach turned. She was learning the manners of the Court too fast.

She leaned closer to the King, but her words carried. “Sire, I beg a favor.”

Gwyn regarded her closely. Verden wasn’t the only one listening to the exchange. He was almost holding his breath for her. Please don’t ask for the pardon.

The King was having fun, spoiling it now would not win her any favors…actually, it would see her permanently removed from this table and all hope would be shattered. As much as he hated watching her with the King, he didn’t want her to fail. He didn’t want to see her grieving her parents’ death either. Did they realize the love and loyalty she had for them? More than he’d had for his parents. He pushed aside the thought before it had a chance to gnaw at him. There’d be time to see his parents later.

“You may ask, but I may not grant.” Gwyn placed down his goblet.

Taryn’s smile faltered as if she sensed the change in the King’s mood. “I would like permission to visit my grandmother Cerela. I believe she lives not far from Court?”

Gwyn raised one eyebrow. “Why do you seek to leave Court already?”

“I’m sure she is eager for news of my mother.”

“Are you always so thoughtful of others?”

“Perhaps it is a human trait I have picked up.” Taryn glanced away as if embarrassed to be admitting such a thing.

She was playing the King and he seemed to be believing it—or maybe he just wanted to believe it. The idea that a pretty young thing raised across the veil would fall into his bed must be powerful for an ancient King now facing winter.

Isn’t that why he was attracted to her? She was different. Fairy and yet…untainted was the only word that sprung to mind. The way Verden had been once, before the lust for power and status had made him who he was. He spun his goblet on the table. No, he’d never been as innocent as Taryn. He’d sought the power of Court where she didn’t want it; she only wanted her father’s pardon. While many would sneer, he respected that. Maybe she was stronger than he was. She certainly had a better heart.

Maybe she was playing him and he wasn’t even realizing.

If she was, he didn’t care.

He was enjoying it.

For once, he was going to do what he wanted, and the only way to do that was to keep playing in the dark, away from Court. Even as he planned his game, he knew he was betraying the King. Every kiss he shared with Taryn meant something. He wasn’t sure what, but it was more than a simple deal.

“Your grandmother isn’t far from here. There is a small hamlet where the tailors, cobblers, and tinkers live. Take the path that passes the maze. I give you permission to go and find her. I’m sure some of the Ladies will go with you to look at fabric and ribbons.” Gwyn leaned forward. “Perhaps the Hunter could accompany you to make sure you return safely.”

Taryn glanced at Verden and for a heartbeat he couldn’t find words. He nodded. Gwyn was only sending him to make sure Taryn didn’t take off. She was almost a prisoner of the Court. Felan could have invited her back and let her have free run of Annwyn, but no, he’d made sure she was here and close to the King. “I can’t think of a way I’d rather spend a day than escorting Ladies around.”

Usually that would have been a lie.

“Thank you, sire.” Taryn bowed her head.

Verden stood and bowed to the King. He didn’t have to offer excuses. The King acknowledged him with a slight raising of his hand and that was it. He was dismissed. Getting out of the hall and out of the castle had never felt so good.

Taryn might be kept there by royal command, but he’d willingly sold himself to the Court. He felt the weight of that deal with every breath. Yet if he had freedom, he didn’t know what he’d do with it. He’d been caged for too long.

Hunter of Annwyn was just the first slave of the Court.

* * *

As before, a white hound was waiting for her just outside the castle. The dog gave her a sniff and then loped away, heading in a different direction than last time. For a moment she hesitated, and she glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching. But she was alone, and if she wanted to leave Annwyn and see Verden, she didn’t really have a choice.

There was further to walk this time. As the castle became more distant, the knot in her stomach tightened. What if someone caught her out here? She knew sneaking away was wrong and yet…waiting to escape gave her hope and a reason to fake her way through dinners and games and all the other things she didn’t care about.

She’d almost asked for the pardon tonight. The words had burned her tongue, but she’d seen the look in the King’s eye change the moment she’d asked for a favor and had known that Felan was right about the timing, and it had to be something small first to test the water. The only reason she was no longer panicking every time the King smiled at her was because she knew it was a game for the Court—assuming Felan was right about that too.

He had to be. The alternative didn’t sit well at all.

The dog leaped over some brambles and she followed, lifting her dress so it didn’t catch. A flash of white in the shadows caught her eye. Too big for a dog. A horse.

“Finished playing cards?” Verden was hidden in shadows so she couldn’t read his expression, but she could hear the sharpness of his words. Was that jealousy?

“For tonight.” They both knew she had to keep going for her parents. “Finished scowling?”

Silence. Then he moved, stepping into the dappled moonlight. “I hate this. Yet I can’t stop. I want to play cards with you. I want to dance with you instead of pretending I don’t care.” His fingers traced down her arm. “Then I think maybe it’s only because I can’t have you that I want you.”

She knew exactly what he meant. Of all the men at Court, Verden was the one who could derail her plans, and yet he was the one who drew her eye. She wanted him. She closed the distance between them, her body almost touching his. “We could test that theory.”

He turned his head so his lips brushed hers. Not quite a kiss, but it was enough to make her heart flutter. “What are you suggesting?”

Her tongue darted over her lip. What exactly was she suggesting? Anything in public was out…but they could do anything they wanted in private. “Did you want to lose that bet?”

“I would only lose if we were found out. Some things are best kept secret.”

“True.” She drew in a breath. “If it weren’t for my father—”

“You wouldn’t be here.” He lifted his hand, his fingers brushing her neck as if he planned on kissing her. “I am glad you came.”

His mouth closed over hers, stealing her breath with a desperate kiss.

She didn’t want to be here a moment longer. “Let’s leave and pretend the Court doesn’t exist.”

“I am more than happy to grant that desire.” He drew back and led her toward the horse, then put his hands on her waist and went to lift her.

“On the horse?” Her voice was little more than a squeak.

“I have somewhere special in mind, but the doorway is further away.”

“I can’t ride.” She’d never gone near a horse in the mortal world, but she could drive a car—something she was willing to bet Verden couldn’t do.

“I’ll be with you. It will be fine.” He lifted her onto the horse before she could argue again. A moment later he was behind her, his arm around her waist. “Relax.”

It was hard not to lean back against him as he urged the horse forward. The horse covered the distance, her stomach flip-flopping with every step. She saw two carved stones, then the horse passed between them and it was daylight.

She was back in the mortal world.

It took a moment to realize she was on the flat top of a stone pyramid. Stairs broke the smooth slope. A ruined temple in the jungle. It was only small, not tall enough to break through the cover of the trees. Birds screeched at the sudden disturbance.

Verden jumped down and then helped her. “Can you guess where we are?”

She looked at the trees and vines, the lushness. While Annwyn was green, it lacked the vitality that this place had. Annwyn had magic; it thrummed with power, but this place had life. Heat and humidity wrapped around her, the constant noise of nature instead of the weird almost silence of the forest of Annwyn. She grinned and turned around. More jungle and ruins spread before her. “South America?”

Verden pulled off his waistcoat and draped it over one of the stones that formed the doorway to Annwyn. “There used to be many doorways here. Death was as important as life. We were worshipped as gods.” He shrugged. “All before my time, but apparently sacrifices used to be far more common.”

“It’s nice to know we’re more civilized now.” She walked around the horse, her hand on the animal’s flank, the fur like velvet—not what she’d expected at all. Not where she’d expected him to take her either. But then, how many doorways to the wilds still existed and how many had been destroyed by humans?

Verden’s gaze followed her. “Are we? Or do we just hide it better?”

“Maybe both?” Here she didn’t have to hide. “Did you want to show me some of the ruins?”

“Some.” There was a gleam in his eyes like he had other plans too. He took her hand and led her down the stone steps.

“Do you come here often?”

“No. The doorway is too far away and I don’t want the spotted cats expecting fairy horse for dinner.”

Taryn stopped on the last step. “You mean jaguars?”

Verden looked at her and frowned. “The wild fae here call them balam.”

She glanced back at the horse standing on top of the temple. Maybe being here wasn’t such a good idea. “Is the horse safe?” Are we safe?

“For a while, but I wouldn’t want to impose. Wild fae expect the natural order of things to continue. Stopping a balam from eating the horse breaks those rules. However, I think we will be okay today.” He gave her hand a small tug. “I swear we will be safe.”

She took the final step down into the soft red dirt. “Why are there no tourists here?”

“Tourists?”

“How come no one comes here?”

“It’s hidden. Partly because of the magic, partly because of the wild fae. But magic needs to be fed and it’s been a long time since anyone worshipped here.” His fingers traced her cheek.

“So how many other women have you brought here?”

“None.” His hand fell away. “When I use the old doorways, I go alone. I don’t see the reason to remind the others they exist.”

But it wasn’t the doorways she wanted to know about. It was his other lovers. He was hundreds of years older than her. He’d be her first fairy lover…she wanted to be something to him other than the one he shouldn’t have.

“You confine your trysts to Court?”

He looked away. “What do you want me to say? There is no right answer to that question. Yes, I’ve had lovers. I even liked some of them. Some were just part of the game, maybe I was part of their game—I probably was. A bet, a dare, securing a deal.” He shrugged.

Taryn looked at him for a moment. “You’ve never had sex just for fun? Because you could? Because you wanted to?” If he said no, that would be tragic. Insects buzzed in the background, the jungle hummed with life and magic. They were the only people for miles. “Verden?”

“I was thinking.”

“I already know the answer because you took so long to respond.” She placed her hand on his arm.

“No you don’t. It was just so long ago I’d buried it. It was before I went to Court.”

And he’d been at Court for quite a long time—in mortal years anyway. She wanted to ask about his life before he became Hunter, but now wasn’t the time or place.

He lifted his gaze to her face, his lips curving in a smile that promised all kinds of pleasure. “Maybe that is about to change?”

“That depends…I’m not about to lie on the dirt.”

“Have some faith in me.” He led her a little bit away from the temple to where another building was now being reclaimed by the jungle. Vines grew up the sides and the roof and two walls were missing, tumbled into a pile of gray rocks. What was left was beautiful, carved with pictures that must have once told a story.

She knew if tourists started tramping through here, the magic would dissolve. The only reason it still remained was because it was uninterrupted. Her fingertips tingled. The magic she could do in the mortal world was small because she was so young. Here she felt like she could do anything. Rebuild the wall? She almost needed to do something. Verden cleared the floor of old leaves and fresh ones appeared with a sweep of his hand.

“Did you check for spiders?” Then she decided to try it herself, but there was nothing in the building—just her and Verden.

As if they were the only people now in existence.

His lips pressed against hers and all her concerns melted on her tongue. Her blood was hot, her skin sheened with humidity, and her clothes stuck to her. Around her the air thrummed with power. The ancient site and old magic intensified every sweep of his tongue or brush of his fingertips along her skin. He kissed her neck as his hands traced down her back and cupped her butt, drawing her close. The length of his erection pressed against her stomach and her belly contracted as longing filled her. Her nipples peaked against the thin dress.

His fingers traced the curve of her butt, a caress that was more teasing than anything. His eyes were bright and luminous, as if he was truly alive instead of going through the motions. “You make me remember why I came to Court. I was looking for something. I thought I’d found it when I became Hunter, but I was wrong. The women just wanted me for what I could get them.”

She drew back a little. “I’m no different. I wanted to escape Court.”

“I offered; that is the difference. You never tried to hide what you wanted.” His fingers found the buttons on each side of her dress and he began to flick them open.

“Yet I do with every breath at Court. I can’t ask directly for what I want, and I can’t speak to you.” She undid his shirt and pushed it open. His skin was smooth, like silk, planes of muscle dipped and curved. Perfect, but had she ever imagined anything less?

“Then I shall speak to you in public.” He undid the last button, so her dress gapped at the sides, then his hand slid under the fabric. His thumb swept across the underside of her breast. “And drag you away at every opportunity.” He lowered his head and took one nipple in his mouth, sucking through the fabric.

She arched her back and gasped. He didn’t need to drag her anywhere; she’d go willingly. He kissed back up her throat, teeth nipping softly at her skin. She pushed his shirt off and he let it fall onto the bed of leaves.

Even though her dress no longer covered much, she wasn’t sure she wanted to get totally naked. Were there wild fae here, watching? Verden pushed off his boots so he stood in just his trousers. Then he beckoned her forward, to the waiting bed of greenery. She hesitated, watching as he undid his trousers; then he pushed them down and stepped out of them.

Naked, he was glorious. Flawless.

Fit and lean.

The afternoon sun slanted on his golden skin, highlighting every curve of muscle and the light dusting of hair that arrowed down. Her gaze lingered on his shaft as it curved toward his body. Her tongue traced her lower lip as she looked up. He was waiting for her.

She swallowed. Today she was a wild fae, giving into the need burning in her blood—a need that he’d lit. One that only he could sate. They were safe here, hidden away from everyone. She’d worry about everything else later. She carefully untied the ribbon on her shoulder and let the dress slide down her body. She stepped out of her delicate slippers, ballet flats that would make a mortal green with envy. They were both making every move deliberate, as if giving the other the chance to back away. It wasn’t too late. They could put on their clothes and end this now.

Except it wouldn’t end.

They would circle each other at Court, wondering what it would be like. Maybe this would be it. Get him out of her system. Even as she thought it, she knew it wouldn’t happen like that. Giving into craving never took away the desire. Yet she couldn’t turn away. She stepped closer, the magic of the ruined site snapping between them.

He drew her down to the bed of leaves, his body covering hers. His knee was between her thighs, separating her legs. His shaft was hard and hot against her stomach. She kissed him, her hands smoothing down his back, his skin was slick from the jungle heat. The magic here was older, raw and wild where Annwyn was tame and restrained.

Verden kissed down her throat, his tongue caressing her collarbone, his body pulling away as his hands moved over her. Her skin burned with every touch. The days and days of waiting and lusting without being able to act on a single glance had taken their toll. She was fairy, not stone.

His hand smoothed up her leg, and he touched the little toe ring with his lips before working his way up her leg, kissing and tasting, taking his time as though he wouldn’t get another chance. The heat in his eyes shocked her. She hadn’t expected it to be so clear. His expression was undisguised hunger, as if he hadn’t allowed himself to feel, or be free, in too long.

His lips grazed her inner thigh, his breath hot on her skin. She pulled him back toward her, hooking her legs around his hips so his shaft was pressing against her slick and swollen folds. So tempting, so close. Every breath smelled of him and jungle. Wild and intoxicating.

He took another kiss and rolled his hips, teasing without entering. He was smiling, as if he were enjoying her gasps and the way her fingers kneaded his butt. That he was really smiling made her lips curve in a grin.

“What’s so funny?” he said between kisses.

“Nothing. I was smiling because you are.”

“Don’t I smile?” He rolled his hips against hers, but this time, she was ready and the tip of his cock slid into her core. She drew in a breath, expecting more, but he stopped.

She looked him in the eye. Her thumb brushed his cheek, then his lower lip. “Not really, not enough.”

“I can’t help it when I’m around you.”

“You should spend more time with me.”

“I know.” He sank deeper into her. Filling her.

She didn’t try to bite back the moan of satisfaction. As he began to move, she closed her eyes; she had to as sensation rippled through every nerve and tightened in her belly, liquid heat pooling in her sex.

No, she needed to see him. She opened her eyes and pushed him back so he knelt between her legs, her hips resting on his thighs. The surprise left his gray eyes and was replaced with molten understanding as he gripped her hips and thrust deeper. And she watched every stroke. She watched the way he moved, the look on his face in the fading light.

His thumb swept over clit, circling, and she broke apart, his name on her lips as she came. He caged her body again, sealing her lips with his as he came with a growl lodged in his throat. He thrust again, as if drawing out the sensation. She trembled and came again, clenching around his cock. He did it again, and this time she could feel him grinning against her lips.

Her body was already oversensitive and responded to his touch too easily. She didn’t want it to end. She didn’t want him to roll away and dress. She wanted to hold on to him. He was hers.

They lay there, entangled, as their breathing settled, the air cooling their skin. The hum of insects and their breathing were the only sounds. Nothing and no one disturbed them. But they both knew the spell had to end; they couldn’t stay here forever.

Could they?

She sighed and he eased away, but instead of getting up, he laid on his back next to her, gazing up at the stars as they appeared in the soft, dark sky. There were half a dozen before he spoke.

“I like it here.”

“That’s what you said about the other place.” She glanced over, but he wasn’t looking at her.

“I never used to like it here. It was too different, too wild, but it grew on me. When I was thinking of someplace special to take you, this place was the only place I thought of.”

“It’s very magical.”

“A lot of rituals took place here. Since they died, no one comes here.”

“A lost temple.” She smiled. Their lost temple where no one could find them.

He turned onto his side and looked at her, his gaze drinking her in as if he never wanted to forget. “You would come back?”

“I would go anywhere with you.” The words were out before she could vet them. She’d revealed too much. It was one thing to lust after him and fuck him, but she was in no position to fall for him—or admit such a foolish thing. People at Court didn’t seem to fall in love. They loved the deals and games more than each other. Fairy men don’t play with their hearts.

He placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “I won’t use the truth against you. If I wanted lies, I wouldn’t be here with you. I’d be at Court pretending to smile and have fun.”

That was as close to an admission of where he wanted to be as she was going to get. He’d played Court politics for too long to actually reveal much more. Sadness welled in her heart for him. She rolled onto her side and brushed aside a strand of his hair.

His hair and clothes were careless because that was the only freedom he had; everything he did was controlled by the rules of the Court, the deals he was caught in.

“Do you ever want to run away and never go back?” She whispered the words.

“It doesn’t matter what I want. It’s what is good for Annwyn.” He blinked slowly. When he opened his eyes, the mask was back up. “I think I have gambled more than I was willing to lose.” He fingers traced her lips before he let his hand fall away.

He’d finally realized that he didn’t want to risk his position to be with her, and yet she couldn’t bear for the game to end. Not yet. Not when they were just starting. Maybe he’d gotten what he wanted and that was it. She was the fool. She’d let herself think she was more than casual fun—wanted to be more. A tiny part of her had started falling for him. She sat up so he couldn’t see her face.

The leaves rustled behind her. His hand traced up her back as if he still had the right to intimacy.

She couldn’t look at him. “And this? Was this good for Annwyn?” Was it even good for her? Probably not.

He stood up and offered her his hand. The sadness on his face made her wish she’d never asked. “No. Gwyn will be gutted if he finds out. He showers you with attention—”

“He makes no move. He does nothing but publicly claim me.” And she hoped that would be as far as it went.

“You want more? You want to be his lover?” He lowered hand.

“No.” I want you. But she couldn’t say it. Not now. She got up and dusted off a few clingy leaves. “I’m here with you.” Her words were choked. She had no idea what she was doing.

He cupped her chin so she had to look at him. “You think I want this? Do you know what I risk? I am the Hunter; Gwyn is my friend. And yet I can’t walk away. You are lodged in my heart. I feel alive. I don’t have to lie and play games with you, yet when I go back to Court, I must tell even more untruths and make certain I never give away my true desire.” He kissed her, leaving no doubt. Searing and intense—not the kiss of a man who had taken what he wanted and was no longer interested.

Her toes curled in the leaves. She was in his heart? It wasn’t his status that he’d been talking about. He’d gamble his heart. She wasn’t the only idiot falling for the wrong person.

“Then what do we do?” Her hands rested on his chest.

He leaned his forehead against hers. “I have no idea.”

For a moment, neither of them moved.

“I’m not trying to end this, Taryn. But you need to realize what is at stake.”

“I do. If I fail, my parents die.” That was the only reason she’d come to Court, but she’d let herself become distracted.

He shook his head. “If we are caught, we could both die.”

For half a second she was expecting him to smile, but he was being deadly serious. “What do you mean?”

“We are blindsiding the King. He may not be wanting to take you to bed—the Queen would make you disappear—but you are the object of his affection. If he knew you had another lover, he would lose face.” Verden picked up her dress and helped her do it up.

She didn’t move, couldn’t. She hadn’t thought of it like that.

He sighed and a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. “I don’t know how to untangle this web we have made without someone getting hurt.”

Chapter 9

Verden had caught himself smiling more than once as he’d walked back to the castle, long after he’d let the hounds lead Taryn away. By now the corridors would be deserted except for a few serious revelers intent on winning back their money or looking for a warm bed. He strolled through the hallways being cleaned of fallen leaves by shadow servants. How much longer until castle Annwyn had no roof? He glanced up, but leaves still hid the purple night sky.

He wanted to lie beneath the night sky as the stars appeared in the mortal world. He’d never experienced anything like that. Sex was traded for favors, but that’s all it was, there was no connection, no warmth, just part of the deal. But not with Taryn.

In that heartbeat, he understood why Taryn’s mother had left Court to be with her husband and why she wouldn’t return without him. Why she’d rather die. Love.

Taryn had taken his heart while he wasn’t looking and he hadn’t even realized it was missing…more worryingly, he didn’t want it back. He stopped walking and placed his hand over where his heart beat. Had it really been that easy to fall in love?

If it were that easy to fall in, would it not be as easy to fall out?

He could blame the ruins. The magic of the old temple. The way she kissed him without putting her hand in his pocket to see what she could take. The way he wanted to kiss her again even though she was probably in bed asleep.

How had he let himself be caught? He was the Hunter.

“Still prowling, Lord of the Hunt?” The Queen and three of her Ladies sauntered down the corridor. Rhodia was one of them.

“I am, Your Highness.” He swept her a low bow. He couldn’t afford to upset her even the slightest, not after saving Darah.

The Queen cast her gaze over him as if determining if he was being polite or serious.

“You left dinner early. It is a most unattractive habit you are forming.”

Not early, but he hadn’t stayed until the end. “Then I shall amend my ways. Perhaps you could spare some of your Ladies to play the new card games with me?” He pasted on his Court smile and noticed this time how false it felt, how wrong it was to smile when all he wanted to do was go to bed and dream of Taryn. He’d rather be in bed sleeping next to her.

“Perhaps.” She nodded. “Perhaps they can also offer some advice on your attire.”

“My clothes? Do you find them offensive?” He spoke lightly, hoping to move the conversation to something less serious. He didn’t want the Queen asking where he’d been or whom he’d been with.

Rhodia giggled. “Only when they are on, my Lord.”

The Queen gave her a cold glare. The Queen hated it when her Ladies were getting more than she was, and no one wanted to risk being the Queen’s lover after what had happened to the last one. Hopefully the Queen’s temper would keep Rhodia off his back for a while.

“You have a smudge of dirt on your shirt.” The Queen flicked his undone sleeve with the tips of her fingers.

“Do I?” He glanced down and saw the red-brown dust from the ruins. His heart skipped a beat. He used the back of his hand to wipe away the offending mark but it remained. He shrugged as if it were nothing of consequence. “Hunting in the mortal world is dirty work.”

The Queen looked at him. Her dark eyes dead of all emotion. “I suppose it is.” She turned away, followed by the Ladies she kept around her. “If you aren’t careful, you will disgrace yourself. Appearances matter, more than ever.” She didn’t bother to even look at him as she swept down the corridor.

She wasn’t talking about his clothes. She knew he was seeing someone, which meant she’d be trying to work out who. There was no smile on his lips as he went into his chamber and shut the door. He leaned against the wood, unable to move.

He would not allow the Queen to steal his newfound happiness. He would do better at hiding what he had and what he wanted. He’d speak to Gwyn on Taryn’s behalf about her parents. He’d do whatever it took to get her free of Gwyn and clear a path for him and Taryn to be together openly.

Of course, he had no idea how he was going to do that.

* * *

While Taryn should’ve been happy to be riding next to Verden, they weren’t alone. Several other fairies had decided to come with them to the small town, so it had turned into a bit of an expedition—half a dozen white horses topped with lavishly dressed fairies who’d decided to leave the castle to see how the rest of Annwyn lived.

She’d been looking forward to this trip and not only because it was an excuse to spend time with Verden—she risked a glance over, but his eyes were focused on the trail. He appeared relaxed but she doubted that was the case. The memory of the jungle was too close. It had filled her dreams and left her wanting more.

She gritted her teeth and tried to ease her grip on the horse’s mane. Saddles. Why had no one managed to bring them across from the mortal world?

Some of the Ladies behind her laughed. About her? About gossip? She had to stop caring. And yet she couldn’t. Had they also placed bets on her love life the way the men had? Her lips twisted in to a grin. They were all wrong.

There was no reason for her not to talk to him, as long as it was about nothing substantial. “So, why are there no saddles and bridles? That would make riding so much easier.”

That got his attention. “The horses aren’t tame. They let you ride them because I ask. Saddling them would break the trust.”

She frowned at him, and he smiled back. Not the private one he gave her, but something with less of an edge than his usual Court smile, almost as if he were happy but trying to hide it. She bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from returning a grin that would spark rumor. It took a moment for her compose herself.

“Wait, you actually speak to the horses?” If she’d been in the mortal world and a guy had said that, she would’ve laughed and then ran. Here it was probably the truth. The Hunter had more power than she’d realized.

“Being able to command them is a benefit of the job, but one that can’t be abused.” He was still looking at her, his gray eyes smoky with half-disguised longing. Mortal women would be falling over themselves to get into his bed and he didn’t realize it because he rarely left Annwyn.

He needed to see more of the mortal world, see how good it was, and how much freedom a fairy had there. Usually—except for when the power was about to shift in Annwyn. Maybe after the shift, she could convince him to leave Annwyn for a bit. With that thought, she realized she didn’t want whatever they had to end. Could she live in Annwyn if that was the price for keeping him? She glanced away, unable to look at him.

The trouble with falling was the landing. She knew love wasn’t gentle. Her first human boyfriend had broken her heart even though she’d thought it well protected. Verden had snuck in beneath her guard. Maybe it would be fine and everything would unravel in their favor. Her parents’ love was something special.

But then, she knew if she turned around and talked to the other women, she wouldn’t hear chatter about love—only lust, deals, power, tricks, and games. Nothing of true meaning. Castle Annwyn was full of empty people, living empty lives.

The village was cute. Houses were formed out of trees, much like the castle only quite a bit smaller. Finding Cerela hadn’t been hard at all. After giving Taryn a close inspection, Cerela had invited her in, the rest of the traveling party was taking the time to look at shoes and ribbons and cloth. She’d have liked to look at the clothing too and spend some of the wooden coins that were the currency of Annwyn. However, she was hoping her grandmother would be able to shed some light on what she could do to get the King to remove the exile and invite her parents back to Court.

There were no hugs or anything remotely close to a reunion, just an awkward silence that Taryn had to either break or walk out on. Why did fairies make everything a freakin’ test of wills?

“I came to ask about my parents.”

“Why, are they dead? Is that why you came back?” Cerela raised one fair eyebrow that arched over pale orange eyes, the same as Taryn’s.

So much for motherly love. This woman was as cold as ice and twice as brittle.

“No, my parents are well.” For the moment. “Still in exile though.”

“Chalmer ap Nye comes from a family of liars and vagabonds. He wooed your mother with pretty stories and she fell for it. And fell from grace. She deserves what she got. She sullied my good name—I can’t show my face at Court without whispers.” Her grandmother placed a pot of tea on the table with a thump. “If I were you, I’d concentrate on securing my own position and forget about them. Smell the frost on the air. Change is coming whether we want it or not.”

“Why didn’t you fight for her? She’s your daughter.”

Cerela tilted her head and appraised her as if she were defective, a broken and dirty toy that was only fit to be tossed away. Taryn forced herself to sit up straighter and not look away. She would not be treated like she was no one.

“When she married Chalmer, the King was less than happy. When Chalmer racked up a debt he couldn’t pay, the King saw it as a chance to get rid of him—he never expected one of his Council would choose to follow.”

The key to her parents’ return seemed to lie with her father, as there was no way she could smooth over the embarrassment her mother had caused. “Why does the King hate my father?”

“Felan and Chalmer were close. The King blames Chalmer for Felan’s love of gambling and dancing. Chalmer turned Felan into the wastrel he is today.” Cerela threw her hands into the air. “We are doomed to live in eternal winter.”

“You don’t like Felan either.”

She humphed and sat. “I think there are more suitable candidates.”

Taryn tried not to reveal her shock. Her grandmother was openly discussing…was it treason? If it was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be hearing it, but the fairy curiosity got the better of her. Besides, knowledge really was power here, and she knew Verden would want to know this. Hell, Felan would like to know—if he didn’t already. “There are no other children.”

“Royal blood doesn’t have to come from a direct line, and the right to rule isn’t a gift handed down from generation to generation. It has to be earned. Mark my words, if Felan wants that throne, he’s going to have to put down his goblet and fight for it.”

Taryn blinked and tried to swallow everything she’d heard. Felan wasn’t what her grandmother thought. He already knew someone plotted against him but didn’t know who. Did Cerela? “There’s another fairy with royal blood? How fascinating.”

Cerela patted Taryn on the hand. “Don’t worry your pretty head. Leave the politics for those of us who know how it works. Tea?”

She looked at her grandmother. She’d been given the brush-off. While she was tempted to press, she smiled instead. She’d let Felan know. “You’re right of course. It’s all so confusing here. I swear it will take me a century just to work out what’s going on.”

“I told Arlea to leave you here with me; you would’ve been raised proper instead of being in this mess.” She poured two cups of tea. “Let’s hope spring will be good for all of us. I do so miss those parties.”

Taryn smiled and sipped her sweet tea. It was much safer to act the innocent and pretend she didn’t understand Court at all when what she wanted to know was who was planning for war, and when would they make their move.

The ride back to castle Annwyn was tedious. Verden was riding ahead, which gave her a chance to watch him, to think without needing to work at not giving away her thoughts if someone saw them riding next to each other.

Sulia rode up beside her, bells tinkling around her wrist. Her nails were far too long to be practical and her hair was elaborately done in ribbons and gems. Away from the castle, it seemed all the Ladies listened to Sulia without question. They deferred to her. She looked at Sulia again, searching for a resemblance between her and the King. The song of the stones echoed in her blood. Gwyn had fought his brother. Was Sulia related to the defeated son?

She was jumping to conclusions…and yet…she thought back over everything she’d seen and heard. Sulia had the largest group around her. Queen’s Ladies or Sulia’s? Once the thought sprouted, it took hold. Maybe because she wasn’t enmeshed in the games, she could see them better, spread out before her like a map, if she stepped back and looked instead of trying to get involved. She frowned and let her thoughts drift over all the different exchanges she’d had with people.

“You haven’t said a word since we left the hamlet.” Sulia’s voice shredded Taryn’s thoughts.

“Just thinking.” Taryn glanced at the woman who was becoming more and more helpful by the day. Fairies weren’t that nice unless they wanted something. Taryn’s smile didn’t change, but she went on guard. She hadn’t trusted Sulia from the start and now she was on edge. Damn, she was turning into such a Court fairy.

“I remember Cerela. She is lovely. Very…wise.”

Were they talking about the same woman? Think of something to say that was neutral or possibly flattering. “I can see why my mother wanted me to meet her.”

She couldn’t, but Sulia didn’t need to know the details of the conversation. Then again, her mother had been on the Council. Had she known about the possible threat to Felan?

Sulia nodded. “It is very important to connect with family.” She reached out and placed her hand over Taryn’s. “Never feel you are alone at Court.”

The hairs on the back of Taryn’s neck prickled to attention as a shiver like ice scraped down her back. “You do me a great honor.” She clasped Sulia’s hand as if accepting her friendship.

“Nonsense, we women must stick together.” She released Taryn’s hand, then Sulia pulled a bracelet off her wrist. “You didn’t have time to shop, so I bought this for you.” She placed the silvery bracelet in Taryn’s palm. The bells tinkled.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” What was this gift going to cost her? “You didn’t have to.”

Sulia’s smile grew wider. “Of course I did. You must tell me more about the mortal world. I have many questions…if only you could come with me.”

Taryn laughed, but it sounded strangled. Did Sulia know? Surely not. They’d been so careful. “I have certainly raised the level of interest in life across the veil.”

“You make it sound exciting. Perhaps we need more mortals at Court.”

“But they can’t eat or drink or dance.” It was all she could do to keep the shock concealed. Fairies couldn’t just bring mortals to Court, not anymore—even Taryn knew that. Was Sulia interested in returning to the old ways? Of sacrifices, worship, and toying with mortals as if fairies were gods?

“They can. They just get trapped here forever. What mortal wouldn’t want that?”

Taryn swallowed. She didn’t want to be trapped here forever and she was fairy, but she had to say something. “Precisely.”

The Queen might be filled with rage and hate, and people might fear her moods, but this woman was far more dangerous. With her white-blond hair and pale pink eyes, she looked so harmless, all sugar, no spice. Yet Sulia was beginning to scare her. She needed to be very, very careful. With friends like Sulia, she didn’t need enemies at Court.

Her gaze strayed to Verden’s back. He acted like he was above the gossip and rumors, but he wasn’t. He knew and heard far more than he let on. Dating in the mortal world was so much simpler. Sometimes she wished she’d been born a changeling. Today was one of those days. There was no way her life could get any more complicated.

Chapter 10

A frisson of danger slipped down his spine and spread over his skin. Every time he crossed the veil with Taryn, he knew he was breaking every rule he should be upholding and every oath he’d sworn to Gwyn, and yet he couldn’t stop. She was the rush that had been missing from his life for too long. A spark that made every breath dangerous. However, instead of playing against her and trying to stay one step ahead of her game, they were playing together. It was them against the Court.

How long could the odds hold in their favor? He pulled her through the doorway and then hard against him, his lips on hers. He wasn’t wasting a second of the time they had together. It had taken too long for him to leave dinner, the Queen watching his every move. They should have waited another night and been more careful, but he needed Taryn.

Her fingers gripped his waistcoat, fisting the fine fabric, but he didn’t care if he went back looking like he’d tangled with a bear. Not right now anyway. He would later, but the part of him that played by Court rules and gave a damn was shut down with the thrill of getting away again, of having someone to get away with—someone who was having as much fun as him.

He cupped her cheek, his thumb smoothing over her skin. Fun had been missing for too long. But even as he looked at her, he knew that this was more than just fun. It cut too deep when she sat with the King. His King. Warning brushed over his skin like a cool breeze. Too many things could go wrong, and she still needed her father’s pardon.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered against his lips.

“Nothing. Let’s move away from the doorway.” As they walked away, he glanced over his shoulder but saw nothing to concern him.

“You can’t lie to me.”

Couldn’t he? He lied to everyone else, including himself. “Why do you keep risking everything by crossing the veil?”

She looked at him for a few heartbeats, as if she didn’t understand the question. “For the same reason you do, I think. At Court I do what is required and what is expected…but here, with you, none of that matters.” She drew in a deep breath and tipped her face to the sunlight filtering through the branches of the trees. “I am just me and you are just you. It’s easy.”

Easy. Was that it? Is that why he was craving these times, because it was easy and he didn’t have to be anyone except himself?

“And if I asked you the same question?” She raised one eyebrow as she moved toward a sunny clearing big enough for him to lay down his cloak.

“I want to be with you and I can’t do that at Court, yet.” Maybe never. He should be making plans, alliances, and working out what he was going to do after the power shift, but he cared less and less. All he wanted was Taryn.

She watched him, as if weighing his answer. “I want you too.” She beckoned him forward.

He used a little magic to gather fallen leaves to soften the ground, then took off his cloak and spread it over. A perfect place to spend a mortal afternoon while Annwyn slept. He sat down and let the tension of Court dramas fade. The weight would be there waiting for him to pick it up later. There would be plots to unravel, the mortal world to watch over, and the Queen to avoid, the same as always. He relaxed onto his back.

Taryn didn’t sit next to him; she sat on him. Straddling him, her dress pooled around her. “Do you know where we are this time?”

“Yosemite.” He only knew the name because he’d had to clear up a Grey problem here a few years ago, maybe ten years ago. It was so easy to lose track of mortal time. Humans and a small gang of Greys looking to make trouble were never a good mix. Those Greys were now much further north and well away from civilization.

She smiled. “I’ve been here before.”

Damn. He’d been hoping to take her to places she’d never been. “I didn’t realize.”

“So you do know places closer to towns.”

“Very few.” And they weren’t the places he really wanted to take her, but she’d asked. “I don’t come across the veil to share you.” He drew her down for her kiss, but he wasn’t just bringing her across the veil for sex—although sex with her was different than the calculated couplings at Court. With Taryn, no one was keeping score and she wasn’t going to screw a deal out of him. And he didn’t want one from her; that she was here was enough. He started undoing her dress, wanting to feel her skin against his.

She pulled the dress over her head and tossed it to the side. His fingers traced over her stomach and around each breast. She shivered and her nipples hardened into tight peaks that needed to be touched. He sat up and took one in his mouth. She arched her back, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He liked the press of her nails. It wasn’t done to leave a mark or prove a point. Her fingers flexed against him depending on what he did, her reactions natural and unforced. She wanted him to know when she was enjoying something, and she responded to his touch. It was as if they made their own magic when they were together.

With a final lick, he released her. But she didn’t release him. Her fingers pushed into his hair, tugging out the binding so his hair fell free; then she tipped his chin up so she could claim his lips. Her hips moved and his shaft pressed against his pants. There was entirely too much fabric between them, and she seemed to agree, her hands sliding under his shirt.

He rolled her over and stripped off his clothes.

“You swear that bears aren’t going to find us?”

“I swear.” Although he probably would have promised anything right then as he lay over her, both of them naked. If any human did stumble into the clearing, they wouldn’t see anything; they’d just have a strong urge to leave. Mortals couldn’t see fairies unless the fairies let them—and even then most didn’t show their true face. It suited their purpose to not be seen right now.

She slid one leg over his hip. “You’re just saying that.”

He eased forward, his shaft pressing against her waiting sex. “You aren’t exactly rushing away.” He kissed her before she could speak again. He didn’t care if a family of bears ambled into the clearing—not that they would. The forest was quiet, and there was very little wildlife around. He wasn’t careless with their safety in either world. “If you want to see bears, we could go somewhere else.” He pretended to draw back, knowing she’d stop him.

Her other leg hooked over his thigh. “Here’s fine.”

She reached for him, her fingers feathering over his shaft as he watched. Her lips parted a little, a smile curving the corners as though she were a forest nymph free of all responsibilities. Maybe that was just what he wanted, to know what it was to be truly free again. He moved closer, sinking into her. For the moment, he was free of everything and everyone except Taryn and his desire to be alone with her.

While she admitted to needing these breaks from Court, he couldn’t. It went against everything he’d worked for. It was much easier to lose himself in her and pretend that he came here to be with her. She was the reason he was craving more than what the Court offered.

She was his craving.

Taryn moved with him and the sound of skin on skin filled the air. She moaned against his lips, her hips lifting to meet every thrust, her fingers digging into his skin. He nipped at her lip, and she responded in kind. Her breaths shortened, and she urged him faster. He gave her what she wanted, holding back until her core tightened around him and she came. Then he let himself slide over the edge to drown in pleasure.

* * *

The bed of leaves tickled her back even through the dark cloak spread over them. Every movement made the makeshift mattress rustle. Verden lay next to her, with one arm over his eyes to shield them from the glare of the sun, which had moved. He was thinking, and she knew what he was thinking about.

He’d told her about his run-in with the Queen. Just hearing about it had been enough to make her heart clench in fear. But all her doubts about sneaking off vanished when she was in his arms in the mortal world. Here, she saw who Verden was when he wasn’t hiding behind the mask of Hunter. She rolled onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows, stretching out in the dappled sunlight.

He’d assured that no bears would disturb them, but Yosemite had bears, and deer and all kinds of things. Wondering about wildlife wasn’t particularly relaxing—not that she’d been thinking about wildlife as they’d given into the lust that was becoming harder and harder to keep locked away.

“There is a café down the hill a bit I believe.” This was as close to home and the familiar as she’d come, and she didn’t want to let the opportunity slip by without seeing people and eating normal food and feeling like the world as she knew it still existed. In Annwyn, it was easy to forget there was more across the veil.

“We just ate.” Verden opened one eye.

She was tired of the elegant dinners, and she was sick of Court food. The fruit and what they called cake. She craved the sugar and salt of the mortal world. Soft drinks and chocolate and meat. She’d convinced Verden to take her through a doorway that was close to civilization because she wanted him to see her world and realize there was so much more than deals and games. She wanted to see him in her world. As much as she loved the wilds and being with him, she wanted to see if they could play at being human together.

“We ate at Court hours ago.” Since then they’d been entertaining themselves. She plucked a leaf from his hair and tossed it away. At least no keen hiker had stumbled across them. “Can we just go and see?”

“You want to spend the little time we have together surrounded by humans?”

“It’s called a date. Usually men take women out to dinner before jumping into bed.”

“Is that how they win affection?” He reached out and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

She leaned into his touch and let herself be pulled into a semi-embrace. “It’s how people gauge interest and compatibility.”

“I’m interested. I’m interested every time I see you.” He took her hand and placed it over his hardening shaft.

“I’ve noticed.” She bit her lip; she didn’t think she was asking too much from him. “I want to be able to sit down and have a meal with you and not hide what I feel. I want to be able to talk to you without wondering who will overhear.” This was the test: could they have a real relationship? She twisted around to look at him.

“I want that.” There was a silent but.

She waited. She was aware of his breathing, the lift and fall of his chest against her, and the cooling of their skin. She’d have never lain naked in the forest with a human, yet with Verden it felt right—because it was all they had. She hoped she was wrong and there was more than sex and magnetic attraction.

“I’ve never eaten human food,” he said finally.

“What?”

“I don’t spend any time around humans.”

“How can you not spend time around them when you patrol the mortal world?”

He looked up at her, the sunlight and leaves making patterns on his skin. “I don’t patrol. I simply monitor fairy activity in the mortal world. I relocate Greys, and stop those who choose to live here from making excessive trouble for humans. I am the King’s law in the mortal world. The rest of the time I’m at Court. I’ve been there nearly my whole life. I’ve never had time to dabble with humans, as I was too busy trying to secure my position and, once there, holding it and doing what was required. My life belongs to the Court.”

She didn’t know what to say. Had he ever really lived and had fun? “This is where my life is.”

“You don’t want to live at Court?”

She shook her head. The longer she spent there, the more she disliked it. He was quiet again and she knew he was thinking what she had already considered. This was fun, but at some point it would it end. He was a Court fairy and she wasn’t. She eased away, not wanting to hear him say it. She just had to enjoy what little they had without reaching for more.

“Forget I asked. It was a stupid idea.” She reached for her discarded clothes.

He moved and caught her hand. “No it wasn’t. Let’s have the meal we could never have at Court.”

* * *

Dressed, they let themselves be visible to mortals. Their clothing was wrong, but a little fairy magic would convince anyone who saw them that they were nothing more than another couple of hikers. Few would bother to look closer for the simple reason mortals didn’t expect fairies to walk among them.

They had found a trail and then walked down the hill to the little village. Village might be generous, as it had a general store, a post office, a tiny museum, and a couple places to eat. Verden watched as people milled about, talking in groups; some walked past and snapped photos of the scenery.

He followed Taryn into a shop where she scanned a board, then turned to face him. Her eyes were bright and she looked relaxed, more relaxed than he’d ever seen her.

“What do you want?”

He looked at the board, but it was all scribbles to him. “I don’t know.”

She gave him a questioning look but said nothing.

He shrugged. “Surprise me.”

It would all be a surprise. He couldn’t read the board. Most fairies couldn’t read; it was a very human thing to do.

“Two burgers with the works, fries, and medium lemonades.”

The man rang up the total, and Taryn handed over two leaves which the human accepted as money without even blinking. Verden bit back the grin. She’d been so worried about pulling that trick off, but as he’d pointed out on the walk down, if she didn’t do it, then there would be no meal. Besides, she was old enough to be doing simple tricks, and it’s not as though anyone was getting hurt. No one was going to lose their soul or get caught in a deal. It was just an extension of the glamour they were using to hide what they were.

They moved away from the counter and waited. She opened up a pile of papers that was sitting on a table.

“Wow.” She pointed to something near the top. “I’ve been away over a month.”

“Time moves differently.”

“I know…I just didn’t think it was that different.” She looked at the first page, then turned to the next one. “That’s not good. Golden staph outbreaks in hospitals and an antibiotic resistance TB strain.” She flicked another page. “It’s like the first sign of the apocalypse. Are you reading any of this?”

“No.”

She turned her head a fraction, puzzlement in her eyes and in the way her eyebrows pinched together. “It’s important. Maybe related to”—she lowered her voice—“Annwyn.”

Oh, it was definitely related to Annwyn. The breakdown of power was bleeding across the veil. But it wasn’t the bad news that bothered him. It was his inability to read, something that had never worried him before. Yet now it did. While Taryn fit into this world, he didn’t. He’d seen it but never lived in it.

For a moment he considered not saying anything, but he didn’t want to lie to Taryn. “I can’t read.” Her lips parted, but he spoke before she could and defended his lack of skill. “I’ve never needed to learn.”

She nodded. “I guess most of the Court can’t read.”

“You’d be guessing right.”

The man rang a bell and she picked up the tray of food, and they went back outside to sit. Over the road, little gray squirrels scampered over the grass and up the tree.

“Do you have any idea how guilty I feel right now?” she whispered.

“Fairies have been doing things like that for as long as money has been around. It’s not like we carry coins.” Gems, silver or gold, silks, and other fine objects were usually traded. More often it was intangibles, which meant being very careful with the wording of what was being agreed to. Never make a deal in haste, as it would come back to haunt.

“It’s paper money now.” She corrected as she popped a fry in her mouth, then licked the salt off her fingers, her tongue darting out for a moment. He knew what that tongue felt like when applied to skin. Just watching her enjoy the food was worthwhile. “Try some.”

He unwrapped the burger. It certainly wasn’t elegant like Court food. Plant, meat, and cheese hung out the sides. It was rather unappetizing. Then he looked at Taryn and she was eating as though it was the first good meal she’d had since arriving at Court. He could do this for her—if he took the meat out.

He opened up the bun and pulled out the dead flesh, then closed it back up and took a bite. It was worse than it looked, but he chewed and swallowed and wished he had a glass of berry wine to wash it down with. He settled for the soft drink. While he’d braced for something terrible, it was pleasant. Bubbly and sweet.

“I have missed this so much.” She popped more fries in her mouth and made a sound that previously he’d only heard her make when they were alone and naked.

This meal was making her so happy. He tried to be more enthusiastic. It couldn’t be that bad; it was just different. After a couple more bites, he’d decided it really was that bad and he couldn’t eat any more. Instead, he concentrated on the drink.

She noticed. “You don’t like it.”

“It’s different.” He really didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

“And you don’t eat meat. I didn’t even ask. Do you want something else?”

“It’s fine. There is no meat at Court; we don’t eat dead things.”

She paused about to take another bite. “Does that mean I shouldn’t be eating it? Is there a reason?”

He shook his head. “Not that I know of, just that meat isn’t served in Annwyn. We don’t eat death. When we hunt, it’s for status and the kill it is returned to the earth.”

“So if you’ve never eaten meat, how do you know you don’t like it?” She raised one eyebrow.

He didn’t. He’d been trying to make the burger more like what he was used to. With her watching he broke a piece of the meat patty and put it in his mouth. It didn’t taste like death, but it didn’t taste like anything he wanted to eat again either. “How about I skip the meat and stick with the fries and drink?”

“As long as you don’t mind me eating meat.”

He smiled. “Not at all.”

“See, if we weren’t having our first date, I’d have never known you were a vegetarian.” She raised her paper cup. “To first dates.”

He raised his cup so they tapped. “To many more.”

“So if you weren’t the Hunter, what would you be doing?” she said after sipping her drink.

He never spoke about his family, though he was sure most knew his background simply because it was always wise to know your opponent. “My parents farm on the outer reaches of Annwyn.”

“There are farms?”

“Where do you think the food comes from? Someone has to grow it and produce it.”

Her lips parted as she thought about it. “I never realized. My parents never mentioned anything other than Court.”

“Most Court fairies don’t. They don’t like to think of anything other than themselves.” Something he’d have never said aloud in Annwyn. Yet here he didn’t have to censor every word. The humans around them were too involved in their own conversation. No one cared and no one was watching.

“You’re a Court fairy.” She pointed a fry at him.

“I am now.” He nodded and took the fry from her. “But I have lived beyond Court. It was my decision to leave the farm. I went in knowing what I was doing.” But not realizing what it would cost him. “So what do you do here? You aren’t part of the Brownie compact that your parents made.”

“My father is bound by the compact; my mother isn’t. She made sure I had a childhood instead of being trapped in the house. I went to school like everyone else, and I have been working as a cleaner to get enough cash for clothes. I think she is glad I’ve been called to Court. She didn’t like me running around like a human.”

“Plenty of fairies live here, acting human and rarely coming to Court.”

“Except now.” She scrunched up the paper, her burger now gone.

He covered her hand with his and squeezed gently. “Hey, there is time. Felan hasn’t even lined up a bride yet. He can’t claim the throne on his own.”

“True.” She sighed and leaned back in her seat. “I suppose we have to go back.”

“It’s been a lovely afternoon.” One he didn’t really want to end. He’d never imagined that being in the mortal world surrounded by humans could be so pleasant. Not that he could imagine living here. Fairies belonged in Annwyn, if not at Court.

“Despite the food.” But there was a glint her eye and he knew she wasn’t offended by his lack of eating.

She gathered up the garbage and threw it in the bin; then they started the walk back to the doorway. On the trail they passed a few walkers, but he let the magic go and they vanished from sight, leaving them free to leave the trail and wander through the forest hand in hand—as if everything were perfect. As if they wouldn’t have to go back to ignoring each other except when required to speak and play. It was becoming harder and harder to watch and say nothing.

Verden stopped, his fingers sliding against Taryn’s. He turned around, listening.

“The doorway is this way, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Something isn’t right.”

“We were just here.”

“No we weren’t. We joined the trail much later, as we didn’t know where we were going.” He turned again. “There’s a river here?”

She nodded but she was frowning. “There are waterfalls too.”

That wasn’t what he could sense. He felt death—and the not the usual random kind of death, but a breech in the veil. He ran through the forest, hoping it wasn’t a big tear, praying that it was nothing to worry about and something Felan could fix. He came to a stop by the body of a bear.

“What’s going on?” Taryn whispered. “Is that alive?” She took a step closer.

“Nothing is alive.” From the banks of the river spread death. The trees had shed their leaves. Squirrels lay unmoving on the ground, handfuls of gray fluff.

He walked closer, his stomach twisting until he saw the cause—a faint shimmer over the river that seemed to overspill. Not a lot, a small trickle. But it was enough. Then he saw the fairy on the other side. Felan. And he’d seen them.

“You sensed the tear?” Felan’s face was grim. His gaze skimmed over Verden and landed on Taryn.

Verden felt her stiffen. She wasn’t supposed to be in the mortal world at all and certainly not with him. He decided to ignore the obvious and stick to the problem of the river. “How did it happen?”

“I don’t know.” Felan shook his head. “I don’t think I can mend it either. There are too many. I stop one and another one opens.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Annwyn is failing.”

Verden swallowed, the lingering taste of human food on his tongue, the weight of it in his stomach. There was nothing he could do to help Felan, not without breaking his word to Gwyn.

“I know,” he said simply.

Felan nodded. “You are true to your word?”

The two men stared at each other across the river poisoned with death. “Always.” He’d sworn to Gwyn and nothing would change that.

Felan’s eyes narrowed. “Lady Taryn, I would love to know why you aren’t at Court. I’m sure I didn’t give you leave to cross the veil.”

“Now is not the time.” Verden didn’t want to be explaining what was going on, even though he knew it was already too late. Felan knew; he just wanted to hear it spoken and gain leverage.

“I think it is.” There was a look in Felan’s eye that only came when a man knew the next three moves his opponent was going to make.

He was about to get tied up in a deal he didn’t want to make just to keep his…his affair with Taryn private.

“I found a doorway by accident and Verden warned me about crossing and then we found the river,” Taryn said. But the lie had no substance, her words were too fast and too ill thought out.

“If you’re going to lie to the Prince, you have to do better than that,” Verden muttered.

“It was all I had,” she whispered back. Her fingers threaded with his. Whatever was going to happen, they were in it together.

He held her hand tightly. Not even Felan would pull her away from him.

The Prince didn’t miss the linking of their hands. He shook his head. “You are lucky it’s me standing here and not my father.”

“I’m aware of that, my Prince.” Verden inclined his head. If Felan wanted Verden to offer up himself, he’d be waiting until Annwyn froze over—which probably wasn’t that far away.

“I don’t think telling of this meeting”—Felan nodded at the tear in the veil—“would be beneficial to anyone at Court.”

Verden glanced at the silvery rip in the veil weeping death into the river and killing everything around it. He knew it would spread, that the dead animals and trees were just the start. Then he looked at the Prince. He wasn’t smiling; there were no offhand jokes and no goblet in his hand. This was the Felan that few at Court ever saw. This was the man keeping the edges of Annwyn from fraying too badly and preparing to take the throne. For all the whispers and doubts, Felan was playing a clever game, and a dangerous one. While few saw him as a threat to Annwyn, those same people didn’t think he could rule.

He could rule. He knew what he was doing and what was required. Which meant when Felan wasn’t at Court, he was doing more than fixing the tears; he was courting. That he was lining up a bride was something he wouldn’t want known, as someone could follow him and attack the woman.

“We are both spending more time than usual in the mortal world, both for work and pleasure.”

Felan nodded. “So we understand each other. Let’s not speak of this again.”

“Wait.” Taryn released Verden’s hand and stepped closer to the edge of the river. “You can’t leave this like this. People will die.”

“Taryn…” Verden tried to draw her back. They had been just about to walk away with their secret safely kept.

“I can’t do anything. If I close this one, another will open.” Felan glanced along the river. “I think letting the wound spill in one place is better than many small cuts.”

“But this spills into a river; it will spread.”

“All the tears start at a river.” Verden grasped her hand and pulled her back from the edge of the water. Bodies of water were places of death. He didn’t like standing here. He didn’t know how Felan did it.

“Educate her, will you? I don’t have time.” With that the Prince turned and walked downstream, no doubt checking how bad the damage was. Even if it wasn’t bad now, in a few hours or days it would be.

“Come on, we need to get back.” He tugged at her hand.

“He did nothing.” Her words were soft, as if she couldn’t believe the Prince of Death would let people die.

“He is right. It is better he lets a few tears bleed and monitor them, rather than sealing and guessing where the next rupture is. Would you rather one plague or hundreds?” He’d rather none. But it was too late for that. Far too late.

This time she let herself be led back to the doorway.

Verden didn’t take her straight back to the castle. He did as the Prince had asked and took Taryn to see the river of damned souls. Most fairies avoided the place. Even when everything was in balance, there was an eerie quality to the river, a silence that sent shivers up the back of most fairies and gave them a healthy fear of water.

These days the river wasn’t just eerie; it was malevolent, as if all the damned souls trapped in it were determined to break free and wreak havoc on anyone and everything. The closer they got, the thicker the carpet of brown leaves became. They crunched beneath his boots and echoed in the silence. The flower vines that twisted around the trees were withered, and the jewels of sap were black boils on the bark.

“Where are we going?”

“The river. The river of damned souls overlays every river in the mortal world. Across the veil, rivers mean life, freshwater, and food. Here it is death.” Before him spread the river, wider, rougher, and darker than ever. Waves lapped at the bases of the closest trees. Those trees were dead; frost was starting to form on the tips of the branches—the first signs of winter.

He hadn’t expected that. Autumn well established, yes, but not ice. The realization took his breath. Felan knew about this, had wanted him to see, but how many others knew that winter was creeping toward the castle?

Taryn stood silent.

As if sensing them, the river surged closer, the surface lifting as if faces and limbs were trying to break free.

“This place is horrible.”

“Necessary. Not every soul is worthy of crossing the bridge to Elysia.”

“Hell is literally breaking loose.”

Verden nodded. “Yes. Disease will spread.” Taryn knew the mortal world better than him. “Do you know what smallpox is?”

She nodded. “It was eradicated a few decades ago.” She turned to look at him. “It’s back, isn’t it?”

“It never left; it was merely contained by Felan and me. Before Gwyn took the throne, there were many years of battle between him and his brother—centuries in mortal time. Millions died of disease. The fairy population was decimated as battles were fought. It was a long, dark winter I’m told. Gwyn picked a bride in a hurry to cement his rule, but she was more in love with power than him. After his battle with his brother, he never allowed her a second child.”

“Maybe he should’ve and then we wouldn’t be here.”

“It would have happened eventually and Felan would have had to fight his sibling.”

“Why did Gwyn fight for it? Why not walk away and end it all?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there. Few alive now would remember. Gwyn is old; even fairies don’t live forever.”

“Felan will need a wife to balance the magic.”

“That’s why he is spending more time in the mortal world.”

“He’s not just patching the veil?”

Verden shook his head. “We keep his secret; he keeps ours.”

“Are you telling me every plague in human history comes from here?” She pointed at the river.

“All disease comes from here. Even before fairies claimed Annwyn, there were breeches in the veil. In my time as Hunter, I’ve seen big and small plagues. Every time the King and Queen fight, thousands die. Humans have got better at protecting themselves and stopping the spread, but it still happens.”

The river rippled unnaturally, faces peering from beneath the dark water.

This wasn’t how he’d wanted their time together to be. He’d wanted sunlight and laughter. He’d eat a burger, meat and all, just to go back and reclaim their afternoon, but it was lost beneath the poisoned water of the river—another early casualty in the coming battle. He sighed.

“I’m sorry our day didn’t go as planned.”

“I didn’t realize things were so bad.” Her eyes were full of pain. “I need to get my parents back, fast.”

He closed his eyes, unable to look at her. He’d bring them back now if he had that power. Only the King could. “Do what you have to with the King, and I will try not to watch.”

“Verden…I…”

“I don’t want to know.” He wouldn’t be able to live if he knew the details. “Just do what you have to as I do.”

Sex means nothing—how hollow his words were now.

Chapter 11

Finding Gwyn wasn’t difficult. He was spending more and more time in the Hall of Judgment, settling the more frequent disputes between fairies and the dealing with the influx of mortals’ souls. When he saw Verden, he signaled him over.

While it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have, the King needed to be aware of the worsening situation—while Verden had promised not to mention the meeting with Felan and what was said, he hadn’t promised not to do his job.

Gwyn raised his hand before Verden could speak. “I know. I know what you have come to tell me.”

“It is my duty to report on the dire situation I’m finding across the veil.”

“Thank you for your loyalty. There are so few I can rely on.” Gwyn appeared calm, almost resigned to the fact that winter was going to smother Annwyn.

Annoyance bubbled in Verden’s blood like human soft drink but far more bitter. “Is there nothing you can do to fix the rift between you and Eyra?”

“It has gone too far. Shea’s death has sealed the fate of Annwyn and set her mood to violence.”

For a moment, Verden didn’t know what to say. Did Gwyn have any idea how bad it was beyond the castle? “There is frost on the trees by the river.”

“There is nothing I can do. It all rests with Felan.”

That was a lie. Gwyn could be doing more to slow the spread. Instead, he taunted the Queen.

“How does playing games with Taryn help?” She was his, not the King’s.

Gwyn stood, his pale eyes like chips of blue ice. Winter had already filled the old King. “You forget yourself, Hunter.”

Verden bowed low. He didn’t want to be exiled and face death when the power of the Court shifted from father to son. “Of course you may pursue whoever takes your fancy.” He kept his eyes on the floor, knowing that if he looked up, the man he’d once called a friend would see the deception on his face.

“Tell my son to hurry up and get his act together next time you roll dice with him.” That was as close as the King was ever going to come to admitting it was over and that he would step aside without battle.

While it was the best possible outcome, that he was even thinking it a good thing and feeling relieved was treason. What could Verden say? Nothing. So he stayed silent.

“While you are still my Hunter, I have one other request. Arrange a hunt. I want to ride my kingdom again.” Both men knew it was possibly for the last time. Did Felan even realize how close his coronation was? The Prince needed to find a wife more quickly.

“It would be my pleasure.” It had been too long between hunts. Maybe he’d get the chance to spend some time with Taryn. Verden bowed again, this time to hide the telltale curves of a smile that wanted to form at the corners of his lips. The King was right; he couldn’t trust anyone at the moment. Not even his Hunter.

* * *

It was with great relief Taryn escaped dinner and made it to her room. She let the curtain across the doorway fall, an illusion of privacy, but all she was entitled to at her current status. It meant she couldn’t have any truly private conversations or liaisons. Clever. Also frustrating.

She flopped onto the bed, her forearm draped over her closed eyes as if she could block out everything. She might just hide here until the hunt tomorrow. It was another chance to see Verden in public, another chance to screw up—and so many people were watching. She was sure Sulia knew something. Felan knew everything. Too many people knew. It was no longer a secret, which meant someone would reveal it when it suited them. The goblet of nonalcoholic fairy wine she’d drunk on her way up the stairs sloshed in her stomach. She really needed a proper drink, a glass of real wine. Next time she was in the mortal world…would there be a next time?

Or would Felan be watching and waiting?

She opened her eyes, and her gaze landed on a cloth wrapped package that was on her small table. That hadn’t been there before dinner. When had the parcel arrived?

More importantly, who was it from?

She sat up and leaned over to pick up the parcel. The fabric was soft and silky; the parcel was squishy. She couldn’t afford more gifts from Sulia and wasn’t sure she wanted to get much closer to that woman. Sulia was more dangerous than she looked. However, Sulia had never wrapped anything. It had been more of a command that she’d take the gift and enjoy it.

Verden?

She took a deep breath before undoing the silvery ribbon. Her heart gave a flip-flop that made her stomach tremble. It didn’t feel like something he’d give her. The wrapping was too flash, too glittery. A dress and necklace tumbled out of the parcel and onto the bed. Deep red cloth trimmed in silver, and a jewel the color of blood and the size of her eye.

A note drifted on top of the pile.

Verden couldn’t write. Few fairies could, which limited who the gift could have come from. She picked up the note.

A gift for the hunt tomorrow. I look forward to seeing you wear it.

No name, but whoever wrote it knew she could read, and it was written in English, with a steady hand—an educated script that looked like something that had been commonplace a hundred years ago. Someone at Court knew more about the mortal world than they were letting on. The King?

She touched the fabric; it had the feel of velvet but was much lighter. It felt expensive.

Maybe, but she doubted he’d learned to read or write after coming to power. Felan? But why would he leave her a gift? They were already allies—or were they? She’d believed what he’d said, taken his words as truth without looking deeper. Had he mislead her for his own purpose? Was he making a point after seeing her with Verden? She scrunched up the note. In leaving Annwyn with Verden, she’d gone against Felan’s orders. And yet he’d done nothing. Said nothing and he could have. He could have told his father.

She looked at the dress. Maybe he had. Maybe he’d written the note for his father.

Maybe.

Although Felan had nothing to gain by telling the King. He wanted her father back at Annwyn; helping her was the only way to achieve that. She drew in a breath. She didn’t have many options.

If she didn’t wear it, she’d be insulting whoever had left if for her, and if she wore it without knowing who’d left the gift, she could be getting herself into more trouble. She was almost hoping the King had given her the dress and jewel; that would be the simplest answer, even if she didn’t like the unspoken question.

If he was giving her a dress, was he expecting to help her out of it later?

Chapter 12

Arranging a hunt was relatively simple. Tell the shadows to prepare a picnic. Check and prepare weapons; then check the numbers of animals. A few deer, and some smaller game and birds were always kept in Annwyn for hunting. He kept the supply stable—neither too little, or the animals would suffer from lack of companionship, nor too many that they would breed and become a problem. Some were animals that had accidentally crossed the veil and decided to stay; others had deliberately been brought across. Either way, they were his responsibility.

There was only one simple rule when bringing animals to Annwyn: once they’d eaten here or drank from the river, they could never go back across the veil. Annwyn changed them. It changed everyone who lived here. He could see that now. He saw how different Taryn was to the other fairies, to him. He was no different to animals brought here for sport, trapped until his usefulness had run out. He swallowed. Hopefully he wouldn’t find an arrow in his heart or a sword at his throat.

For today he’d acquired more deer, including a couple of impressive stags. Once turned loose, he had no idea where they’d run. Many years ago, the Court would’ve hunted in the mortal world, but these days those hunts were restricted. There were too few true wilds and too many humans.

Fairy horses—animals that had once been mortal horses—came to his whistle. White hounds chased each other across the grass, tumbling and yipping with excitement. Expectation was in the air. Usually he would be thrilled to hunt; his blood would be pumping with primitive desire. He imagined that was what it would feel like to be free all the time, that the forests were his to roam, and that he was a wild fae. Did the fairies of Annwyn even realize what they’d given by breaking their ties with the mortal world and nature?

Probably not. They probably didn’t even see the gilded cage they were in. If not for Taryn, he wouldn’t have noticed even as the bars pressed against him.

He lifted his face to the sun and glanced around. Nothing seemed amiss…and yet…today something was off. Missing. He didn’t know what.

He’d checked everything, been working since dawn had lightened the sky from velvety purple to pale blue, checked everything again, and still he couldn’t displace the sense of wrongness around him. As the Lords and Ladies arrived—not all of them, just the ones held in the highest regard—he tried to ignore it. There was nothing he could do but smile and do his job. Failing wouldn’t earn him any favors, and it was clear he would need some sooner rather than later. Now Felan knew he was having an affair with Taryn, the Prince could use it against him.

He bit back the sigh. He needed a new game, but he was too tired of plotting and scheming to stay at the head of the pack. The stolen moments with Taryn in the mortal world made him ache for something simpler, something he’d thought he’d left behind long ago. Yet it was out of reach as long as he was Hunter and she needed to get her father’s pardon.

Taryn arrived looking every bit the Lady, dressed in red with rubies at her throat. She was almost dressed too well. The ill feeling in his stomach grew and festered. He held the horse for her as she mounted, the way he would for any Lady not being escorted by her current Lord or lover, his hand lingering on hers for a fraction longer than necessary.

“You look luscious.” He wanted to peel the fabric from her body kiss by kiss and savor the taste as if she were an exotic fruit not usually seen in Annwyn.

Her gaze fixed on his face for a moment. “The dress was a gift.”

“Gwyn?” He touched her knee for the merest of moments and felt the delicate fabric. An expensive dress that few could have afforded.

She nodded. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and her eyes were wide, like a startled doe.

“One of us has to smile. It had better be you.” He almost choked on the words even though they were true.

“Once my parents are back—”

“One bridge at a time.” He’d once imagined his parents would be thrilled to be invited to Court, yet when he’d proved himself and invited them, they had refused. Not for them. But he knew Taryn’s parents, and he understood her love for them. Whatever it took. He glanced up at her again; she didn’t look like she could do it.

Annwyn made people make hard choices. Sometimes there wasn’t a win, only less of a fail. What would she hate more, backing out at the last moment and condemning her parents or falling into the King’s bed?

It wasn’t a choice he envied nor one he could make for her. Or one he wanted to think about. He battled to keep his hand from curling into a fist and dragging the King into a fight. That would end badly, so he forced calm. They would hunt and enjoy the day. Tonight, tonight he wanted to be taking her back across the veil instead of lying in bed alone and wondering what she was doing.

“I propose two teams,” the Queen called out, drawing all attention to herself. She wore blue, a color that was fast becoming yesterday’s favorite. He noted many of the women in shades of pink, from darkest puce to palest sunrise. Felan was wearing purple, as was the King, as was appropriate on a formal hunt.

Verden always played it safe and stuck to neutral greens and browns. No one ever wore them and it meant he never picked a side with just his clothes. He looked at Gwyn, astride his horse, for confirmation. Verden didn’t want to be obeying the woman who was slowly destroying Annwyn out of spite. Teams—that complicated things and made his job harder, plus he wouldn’t get to hunt. No doubt that was deliberate; the Queen really hated him now. The King nodded.

“Very well. Who shall lead, my Lady, since you proposed the idea?” There was no way he was stepping into that trap willingly. The bitch Queen was making trouble on what should have been a relaxed day of riding and talking and drinking. And he didn’t know what trouble she was planning. Did Gwyn?

Eyra paused as if considering, but Verden was sure she knew already. He’d bet his life on that.

“Lords verses Ladies.” She grinned, but there was no humor in it. It was cold and calculated.

Verden let the tension in his shoulders ease a little; at least Taryn wouldn’t be riding with the King, but maybe that was the Queen’s plan. She was making the point that she could keep Taryn away from the King; she could keep all the Ladies away from the King. He briefly wondered if she could stop all the Ladies from bedding their lovers. That would certainly make for an edgy Court.

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed. “You wish us to be at odds, wife?”

“Only for the hunt, love.”

Was that a public declaration they were holding it together or a more public declaration they’d fallen apart? Out here, with no shadow servants to pick up the fallen petals and leaves, they littered the ground. The decaying of Annwyn couldn’t be disguised.

“Very well, Lords verses the Ladies it is. Hawks verses hounds?” The King was almost smiling.

Curse it to the river; he hadn’t called the hawks. Not that it would take long, but he hated looking unprepared.

The Queen nodded. “Your choice.”

Everyone looked at the King. Hawks were the safe bet, as they’d bring a small kill. Hounds meant gambling everything on a deer to win. How secure was the King feeling?

The horses pranced as they got twitchy waiting to start. A couple of the Ladies giggled before being silenced with a glance from Sulia.

“Hounds,” Gwyn said. He voice clear and strong.

Verden signaled for the hounds to go to the King, then he whistled for the hawks. Three fine birds swooped in looking for an arm. The Queen held out hers, as did Sulia. The last hawk circled, and after some prompting from Sulia, Taryn held out her arm. She closed her eyes as the hawk landed. He could see the tension in her body from here. Maybe Taryn would have been safer with the King instead of the Queen.

That the Queen had favored Taryn with a hawk wouldn’t go unnoticed by the King. It looked as though Taryn was in with the Ladies. Verden hoped she knew what a fine blade she was walking on. He didn’t want to her to slip and cut an artery. She could lose favor with the King faster than she’d gained it. While the idea held appeal, Verden didn’t want to see her grieving over her parents. He wanted her to be happy.

Was there even such a thing in Annwyn, or was it all for show?

Verden acknowledged the King, then the Queen. “By the rules of the hunt, a clean kill wins. Should both teams return a kill, the largest will win.” Which meant the King would win if he managed to catch a deer. He had a bad feeling that the Queen was going to win this. And if someone was winning, there had to be a prize.

What were the King and Queen prepared to lose in this public battle? He was becoming glad he wasn’t riding with the hunt today. He couldn’t, as someone had to judge, and that would be his job. He forced a breath between his teeth. He was really starting to hate this, something he’d never thought he’d ever think. Yet his whole world was turning sour as winter crept closer.

“The winning team will get to choose their partners for the midsummer dance.” Gwyn smiled as he spoke, and for the first time in a long time, he looked like he was enjoying himself.

That should be enough of a warning that something was up. If Eyra won, the Ladies would get to pick a Lord. Who could Eyra pick without losing face? No one. As no one wanted to be her partner after Shea’s death and everyone knew it. But the King…Verden risked a glance at Taryn…he could choose her publicly and no one would bat an eyelid. Yet at the same time it would be a slight toward the Queen.

“Very well.” The Queen inclined her head.

Then the King and Queen shook hands; that was probably the most they’d touched in recent memory. There were a few murmured words, but no one was close enough to hear.

Something that should have been a good thing somehow felt like the end of the world was drawing closer. They weren’t reconciling; they were just shifting their feud to the next level. They were gambling against each other in public. No one would win today. But who would lose more than they could afford?

Verden raised his hand. “Ladies to my left, Lords to my right. There is plenty of forest and game for all. Foul play will not be tolerated. You all know the rules. Play fair; win well. Happy hunting.” He let his hand fall and the riders were off.

Horses plunged into the woods, hounds weaving beneath their feet. The hawks took flight, and too soon he lost sight of Taryn. Then he was alone. He crossed his arms. He didn’t know which team he wanted to win. With a click of his tongue, he turned and walked back to castle Annwyn. He needed those shadows to start bringing out cushions, food, and refreshments. He’d rather be hunting with Taryn.

* * *

The ride was exhilarating. Before coming to Annwyn, she’d never been near a horse and now she was riding through the forest as the hawks searched for prey. It was exciting and like reenacting history. People didn’t do this anymore. When the Queen had suggested Ladies versus Lords, she’d breathed a sigh of relief before disappointment had caught up. She’d been hoping to accidentally ride near Verden.

Now she was caught next to Sulia. “Many Lords are vying for your favor yet you seem to be ignoring them all.”

“I’m not here to date a fairy.” She shrugged, not wanting to be caught in this conversation. Beneath her the horse totted along. There was no rush when the hawks were doing the work and all they had to do was watch and wait. She was sure there were marks on her arm from where it had landed. She’d almost died when the Queen had insisted she hold out her arm for the bird to sit on.

“You prefer human men.” Sulia smiled as if they shared a secret.

“Men are men regardless of what they are.” That much was true, but Verden made her heart skip a beat the way no one had ever done before.

“Is that a polite way of saying they just want sex?” Sulia’s gaze flicked over her dress and back up to her face. “That is a beautiful dress…where did you get it?”

“I’ve had some made.” Discussing who had given it to her wouldn’t win her friends with the Ladies. “Do you prefer human men?”

Sulia raised one eyebrow but said nothing. She didn’t need to. Sulia was visiting the mortal world and not for sightseeing. Since the Queen’s Ladies weren’t allowed to take a lover at Court—because the Queen couldn’t—they were going elsewhere. Maybe some were meeting fairy men, but others were looking for humans. If the Queen knew about Verden and her, she’d be out of the inner circle faster than she could say “I slipped and fell on it.” Obviously most of these women thought celibacy was worth being the Queen’s friends—that or they were being super sneaky. Her bet was on the latter.

After a few moments of silence, Taryn decided to risk continuing the talk on men even though she was sure the ground was becoming less stable beneath her feet. “Why? I would’ve thought with all the beauty here, the men across the veil would be dull.”

“As you said, men are men. But mortal men…they are less troublesome. Their lives are shorter and they will do almost anything for the promise of immortal life.”

What was Sulia getting them to do?

There was only one thing a mortal man could do that a fairy man couldn’t—give Sulia a child. Her heart gave a thump as the realization hit, but she kept her gaze steady and expression fixed.

Sulia was trying to get pregnant. In this climate? Was she mad? The Queen would banish her and her baby would be a darkling, born of a banished parent. Or was she hoping that the Queen would be off her throne before the pregnancy showed?

“You go across regularly?” Taryn tried to keep her voice steady.

Sulia gave an elegant shrug as if it was nothing.

Maybe it did mean nothing. Maybe, but so far Sulia didn’t seem to do anything without it forming part of her plan—it was just a pity no one knew what that plan was.

“Perhaps I could ask the Prince for permission to go with you. I would love to see my parents again.”

“Perhaps, but then you would owe me a favor.” There was an edge in Sulia’s voice this time. As if she wanted Taryn to be indebted. She hoped she never had to cross the veil with Sulia. Owing her favors would be far too dangerous.

She listened to the chatter around her, the rustling of the trees now more gold than green. She breathed in and tried to find peace. She was in the forests of Annwyn, surrounded by beauty, and all she could think of was the danger, the hidden claws and teeth of the women around her and the plotting of the Queen.

Taryn glanced at Sulia and decided risking another conversation would be worth it. “If the Ladies win the hunt, do we really get to choose who ever we want?”

“Got someone in mind after all?”

Taryn shook her head. “I like to know how these things work in advance, so I have time to think.”

“A wise thought. If we win, the Queen will choose first, then me, then she will dictate the order. Most will choose their husband or their lover, depending on their mood. The rest of us will choose the person we favor or would like a favor from.” Sulia stared at her. “Who will you choose?”

The only man she wanted was as out of reach as the moon while they were in Annwyn. She couldn’t pick Verden no matter how much she’d like to, but she probably wouldn’t even get the chance. “I don’t know. I don’t know anyone well enough…besides I would be the last to choose.”

“We won’t take all the good ones,” Sulia promised

Taryn didn’t believe her for a second. Verden would be snapped up by Rhodia; her eyes never left him when he walked in the room. On the other hand, it might also mean she’d be free of the King’s attention. “Who will you choose?”

“The Prince of course.” Sulia directed her horse to the left. “Look.” Sulia pointed up at a hawk that was circling above the trees. “We have to win this hunt.”

Yes they did. If the Lords won, she was sure the King would choose her and that wouldn’t sit well with anyone. She urged her horse after Sulia and hoped the hawks would bring in enough kills, while hoping the men missed their targets and caught no deer.

* * *

Breathless and with the Queen convinced of their win, Taryn and the other Ladies made their way back to the clearing where they’d started. They had a selection of small game. Was it enough? Only if the men failed to catch anything. Taryn bit her tongue so she didn’t actually state the obvious and find herself on the receiving end of the Queen’s temper. Really, what were the odds the King would get a deer? Human hunters failed and they had guns; all the King and his Lords had were bows and swords and hounds. Added to that was the realization that by the time the choosing got to her, there would be less politics. Taryn was feeling happier than she had been in a few mortal days—ever since the incident in Yosemite.

While they’d been hunting, the clearing where they had started from had been transformed. Cushions in every color were spread on the grass. Shadows lingered at the edges, armed with trays of food and drink. On the other side was the King—a stag at his feet.

Taryn’s stomach hollowed as if punched. The men had a kill and a far more impressive one than their collection. For a moment she thought she might throw up, but she swallowed and kept her composure.

“A thousand plagues on him,” the Queen snarled and got off her horse. While her eyes glittered with rage, her lips were curved in a smile—a rather feral smile that made Taryn think of a wolf closing in on a kill.

“Shall we let the Lord of the Hunt decide, my love?” The King bowed to the Queen, but he was also smiling. Cold and just as dangerous. Taryn wanted to slip away and be forgotten.

The Queen gave a tight-lipped nod and everyone dismounted. Verden dismissed the horses, hawks, and all but two of the hounds that were his right to have in attendance. Then he made a show of inspecting the kills. His jaw was tight and there was no joy in his eyes. She knew exactly how he felt. This was all bad and getting steadily worse.

Verden faced the King and Queen. “A close contest.” He inclined his head. “But I think that felling a stag in his prime is a grander feat. The hunt goes to the Lords.”

People clapped; there was some jostling and laughter amongst the men. No doubt they had already worked out who they were picking. This was beginning to feel like being picked for a sports team at school. Those with power or perceived status would be picked first; those without would be left to the end. This whole thing was a popularity contest. While they hunted and picnicked, people died and plague spread.

She wanted to scream.

Instead, she smiled blandly. Her gaze was on Verden like everyone else’s, but he didn’t look at her. He was working, and it was far too public for him to even casually glance her way when he was being watched by so many.

The King smiled and clasped Verden on the shoulder. “You sat out and judged a well-organized hunt; as reward, I shall give you my first pick and go second.”

Another round of claps, only this time Taryn saw through the supposedly kind gesture. Judging from the tension in Verden’s stance, so did he.

He turned slowly, as if pondering whom to choose as his partner for the midsummer dance. His gaze locked with hers for a second. Her heart swelled with hope even though she knew it wouldn’t happen. She hoped he’d break rank and choose her, say “damn you all and screw your petty rules and manners.” He wanted to—she could see it in his eyes, but she could also see the way he was so tightly bound to the Court; he wouldn’t step out of line without choking himself on the bonds. He would do as required.

“With your permission, the Queen.” Verden’s voice was flat, as if the prospect gave him no joy, yet he said it with a smile and took her hand with grace. He had behaved exactly as the King had wanted. The Queen couldn’t feel slighted, as she was picked first, and the King was now free to choose.

This was all so wrong. While she’d never fainted in her life, she was sure this was what it would feel like. The world was closing in and trapping her; she couldn’t breathe; she wanted to run to the nearest doorway, cross the veil, and never come back. Then the King was lifting her hand to his lips and she was smiling like a trained monkey.

This was not her life. This would not be her life.

It would end today. The King had picked her, fine, but he would bring her parents back or she would not dance with him. She would refuse to take this any further. And when he pardoned her father and expected more from her? She really hoped Felan had been telling the truth and that the King was acting for show and nothing more. The bundle of knots in her stomach didn’t ease and neither did the feeling that she was wading out past her depth and about to get caught in a riptide.

After the choices were made, everyone sat and conversation bubbled around her. Sulia hadn’t gotten the Prince. Felan had instead chosen a lesser-ranked woman, Dylis, who was rumored to be sharing his bed and spending too much time in the mortal world for her to be very popular. The only reason she’d been invited was because of her relationship to Felan. Some suspected she was working for him, others that she was using him to keep status at Court while she played in the mortal world. Either way, she wasn’t popular with the Queen’s Ladies because she wasn’t doing as she was told.

Sulia was looking peeved, and the Queen looked murderous, as usual. Verden looked like he could do with a stiff drink or three, and Taryn would be tempted to join him. She took another glass of wine. They called it wine, yet she had never gotten the least bit tipsy off it. Getting drunk would probably break all kind of rules…maybe she should slip some vodka into their drinks at midsummer and see what happened. She managed to swallow the laugh that caught in her throat but couldn’t hide the true grin.

“What is so amusing, Taryn?” Verden seized the opportunity to talk to her.

Her first response was to say nothing, but that would end the conversation. “That this wine doesn’t seem to get me drunk.”

A few heads turned in her direction. Oh great, check out the freakish fairy raised in the mortal world.

“When you are drunk, your guard is lowered. That would be dangerous here.” The King’s fingers trailed up her back.

She ignored him and the unspoken warning, her attention on Verden and the way a few strands of his hair hung around his face as if they’d broken free of the tie and refused to be tamed. “But wouldn’t it be nice to just relax and not worry about everything just once?”

Verden nodded, but it was the Queen that spoke. “That is what the festivals are for, a chance to revel.”

“Have you picked a theme?” Verden looked away from her and back to the Queen. He knew the games too well and would never misstep, no matter how badly he wanted to.

“I have.” The Queen looked at Taryn. “We will dress as wild fae.”

Verden gave a perceivable flinch. “An intriguing choice.”

Taryn drank the rest of her alcohol-free wine. It wasn’t as though the Queen was going to pick a simple or commonplace theme. For a moment she wondered what the Court would make of the Halloween parties she’d attended. They had been fun, but she had no doubt that this party would be just another chance for scheming and backstabbing and power grabbing. She could hardly wait—not.

She tuned out the chatter about wild fae. No doubt Sulia would fill her in later, or one of the other Ladies would tell her she was doing it wrong—or they’d just laugh. Whatever. She didn’t want to be here. She just wanted the pardon for her father and then she’d be free to be with Verden. The only problem would be when she wanted to go home to the mortal world and he wanted to stay.

He only liked the mortal world when there were no mortals. She’d have to show him more, change his mind, because the alternative was that she stayed here, where they would never be free to do as they wanted and people would always be scheming around them.

“You seem distracted.” The King leaned closer, attentive. His age was showing in his pale eyes, the blue paler, harder, and older than it had been the first time she’d seen him. His eyes were giving him away. He might look thirty, but his eyes were brittle, like he’d seen too many centuries and played too many games at Court.

This was her opportunity. She’d played the games and had earned his attention. She turned to him. “I am. I sit here and play and hunt and laugh while my parents face death.”

The King blinked and considered her. “Your father could have served as a shadow for a year and a day. He chose exile. Your mother chose to follow him. We are all free to make choices.”

He chose exile. The words sank in and numbed her. Her gaze flicked to where the dark faceless, nameless shadows waited orders. As awful as the punishment was, it was only a year and a day. Exile could last decades. Now exile was a death sentence. Had her father stopped to think or had his pride gotten in the way? Did he really have a choice the way the King said, or was a deal made so he had to cross the veil?

“Are any of us really free?” Was she free to get up, walk over to Verden, and kiss him in front of everyone? She doubted it. “Has my father not served long enough in the mortal world?”

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough.” Power rippled off him; she should back away and let things be. But she couldn’t—not when this might be her only chance to discuss her father with the King.

“So you are free, the rest of us just suffer at your pleasure.” She met his gaze even though it chilled her to the core.

“You know nothing about suffering. You are young and brash and know nothing of our ways. When you have lived as long as I have, you will see a far bigger picture, and while you think you are the center of your universe, like all youth, you will see that you are a speck.”

“I’d rather be a speck with compassion than a king with none.”

He laughed, deep and mirthless. “You have no idea about what you speak. You tell your father that when he is ready to serve as a shadow for a year and a day he can come back.”

Her heart gave a joyful bounce. She’d done it! Her father and mother could come to Annwyn and be safe—if her father served his original sentence. Her glee withered at the realization.

Her father had sought to avoid the penalty once by leaving. Would he agree to serve now? She recalled the argument with her parents when they’d told her she was coming to Court. The looks and the unspoken words. Her father wishing to put things right. He knew this is what the King would demand of him—it was her mother who didn’t want that to happen. It didn’t matter. If this was what it took for them to live surely, they would grasp it. She was going to hold on and nail this deal down.

Taryn smiled at the King, but it was cool and measured. “I’m not allowed to leave Court.” She hoped he wouldn’t hear the lie in her words, that he didn’t know from Felan that she was sneaking off with Verden. This was getting complicated when she wanted simple. She just wanted the Hunter.

“I’ll escort you myself so you can hear the excuses from your father’s lips. You want to hold anyone in contempt, hold him. His pride got in the way.”

“His pride got in your way. Would you sentence him and my mother to death in the mortal world?”

“She made her choice. She chose love over duty.” He looked at her, into her, and a chill settled around her. His fingers touched her cheek. “I wonder how far the seed has fallen from the tree. Watch your step, Taryn, as even my reach extends only so far. If you fall, I may not be able to help you.”

He pulled back, but she put her hand on his arm.

“I have your word that if my father agrees to serve the Court as a shadow servant for one year and a day, they can come back?”

“You have my word.” He kissed her hand, but his lips were nothing like Verden’s. Where the Hunter’s eyes were molten with desire, the King’s were cold with control. But he was a fairy and his word was good—or should be.

She didn’t smile this time. With him, she was cold and dead inside, and she could only fake it so far. Instead, she met his gaze. She needed to end this game. “When will you take me across the veil?”

He looked at her for a heartbeat. “You remind me of your mother more and more.” Taryn wasn’t sure if that was a compliment. “Your love for your parents surpasses all other protocol.”

“Isn’t that how it should be? The love between parents and children should be exempt from the games and deals?” However, it probably wasn’t. Nothing was sacred or special here.

“It should be.” He glanced at his son. “I will take you after the midsummer festival. You’d best hope your father gives you the response you so desperately desire or his pride may damn him again.” Then he turned away and spoke to Felan.

She wanted to collapse with relief that the worst was over. All she had to do was get through the festival and then she would be free to do what she wanted.

Chapter 13

“I don’t want to go to the wilds tonight. I need a drink or three.” Taryn leaned against a tree. Ever since the hunt, she’d looked tense. On one hand Verden didn’t blame her, but on the other she wasn’t playing the game properly.

“Where do you want to go?” He’d hoped for somewhere where they could be alone, but maybe that was the last thing they needed.

She lifted her gaze from the ground to look at him. “Take me to a pub where we can drink and laugh and kiss and not care what anyone thinks.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Pub?”

“A ye olde tavern where people buy ale. We could celebrate the deal?”

“We could,” he said carefully.

“But?” She raised an eyebrow.

They were taking a risk every time they crossed the veil and he wasn’t sure there was anything to celebrate yet. The deal she’d made with the King seemed too easy. “He hasn’t released you has he?”

She pulled a face that involved curling her lip and rolling her eyes at him. “Not in as many words.”

“Then you are still bound to him even after the pardon is granted.”

“What?” She stood up, instead of slouching against the tree. “But once they are back, I don’t have to make nice with him.”

He shook his head. She still didn’t get the finer points. “You are his until he says; until he decides to move on or you fall out of favor.”

Her lips parted and for a moment she said nothing. She didn’t have to; the horror was written all over her face. “No.”

“Yes, Taryn. That’s how it is. You secured the pardon but not your own freedom. The game isn’t over. We are still skirting the edges of disaster.” He could feel the icy fingers reaching for him every time he touched her. And yet, like a moth, he taunted death with every breath. He couldn’t resist her and didn’t want to. He closed the distance between them and grabbed her arms. “You think I enjoyed sitting there, watching you and Gwyn? You think I wanted to pick the Queen? You think I like this any better than you?”

He hated it. It was like having his heart served up to him at every opportunity and each time it had to be cut out afresh.

Her eyes widened. “No. I thought I was done. I hate this hiding. It’s dumb.”

“Dumb?” He let her go. “Fine, let’s see, we go public and I lose my position. Your parents lose their chance of a pardon. Gwyn loses face, and we both get exiled at best, banished at worst.” The skin between his shoulder blades cooled as if touched by frost. They could both be thrown in the river, but he didn’t even want to voice that option. “I don’t know about you, but I enjoy living.”

“This isn’t living. This is dying very, very slowly.” She wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“Do you want this over? Is that it?” That would be the smart option, the easy option. It would hurt for a while, but wounds healed. He was sure his heart would heal once she had gone back to the mortal world she held so dear. But Annwyn would be so much emptier without her. He’d be going through the motions, dancing the right steps until Felan took away his rank and privilege simply because he’d supported the old King. He might as well be dead without the stolen kisses from Taryn to look forward to.

He cupped Taryn’s chin and tilted it so she had to look at him. “At least look me in the eye and tell me it’s over. Have that courtesy.” Don’t be like the other women at Court.

She took several breaths before speaking. “I don’t want this over, but I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Everyone, everything. They all want something from me. The King, the Queen—even you.”

“You want something too, Taryn. It’s why you came here. It’s why you’re with me.” Those words hurt him to say more than they should have. They had an arrangement and it was working, and yet neither of them was happy. Because it was no longer a straight trade. He wanted more than sex and trips across the veil. The rush of excitement was being replaced by the worry that someone was watching, waiting to catch them.

She shook her head and blinked as tears pooled in her eyes. Was she going to cry? Fairies never cried—or if they did, they never let anyone see.

His thumb brushed across her cheek. “You’re doing well. Just keep it together for a little longer.”

And he had to do the same.

“I don’t want to be his. I want to be yours.”

Verden closed his eyes for a heartbeat. Those words were like magic. It was what he wanted more than anything. He opened his eyes and placed a kiss on her lips. “You are here with me, not in his bed. For the moment, that has to be enough.” Yet he knew it wasn’t. He was just waiting for the King to order her to his bed—and it would have to be an order, since Taryn wouldn’t go willingly. “Let’s get that drink.”

He’d never been drunk, but getting drunk with Taryn was sounding like a good idea. They could forget for a night who they were and what was waiting. He took her hand and led her through the forest. The doorway could easily be missed—three trees twined together. It had been a very long time since he’d been here, and he’d expected it to be destroyed, but it was still standing and stable. How much had changed on the other side? Hopefully the town was still there.

They walked around the cluster following the twist and appeared at dusk in a field next to what looked like another cluster of trees. Behind them a stream gurgled. Verden suppressed the shiver. The air was still and smelled of animal and grass.

Taryn sniffed, her nose wrinkling. “Where are we?”

“Ireland. It’s summer, very close to midsummer.” He could feel the power of the season change in his blood.

She looked at him. “It seems like only days ago we were in Yosemite.”

“Days in Annwyn…weeks here. Time moves differently. We have a bit of walk to get to the town.” He glanced at her red dress—close fitting, revealing every curve, ribbons laced offering glimpses of her pale skin, and the splits in the skirt reveled her calf as she walked. As beautiful as she looked in it, he didn’t want to see her in it. It was Gwyn’s claim on her. “Do you want to clothe us more appropriately?”

“There’s no Renaissance fair nearby?”

Verden frowned. “The Renaissance ended hundreds of years ago.”

“Never mind. I can only glamour, not make clothes appear.”

“When you get older and stronger, you’ll be able to.” The idea of throwing off his fairy clothes and playing human for a night was becoming more attractive by the heartbeat. He wanted to taste true freedom and live the way Taryn did—free from Court and all of its rules. Once, just the idea of living in the mortal world would have drawn contempt and a small amount of horror. Now he could almost taste the appeal. He didn’t know who he was anymore. “Clothes like last time?” Jeans and shirts—they could wear their own shoes.

“It would be a start.”

He pulled together an image of what they would wear. “We need to get out of these clothes.” He started pulling off his waistcoat and shirt.

“What if someone sees us? I can’t run around naked in a field.”

“I’m not asking you to run, just get naked—you didn’t worry at the ruins or in Yosemite.”

“That was different; we were having sex.” But she was undoing the dress, piece by piece.

His fingers stilled on the lacing of his pants. “If that would help.” He grinned, but was only half joking. He wanted her. All of her. He was too aware that they had to make the most of every moment they had together.

Taryn shot him a glance that was all the answer he needed. No. “Drinks first.”

“We could stay here. It’s nice and quiet.” He pulled her into an embrace with her back to his chest, his fingers quickly finishing undoing her dress. He kissed her shoulder as it began to slide down.

“You’re supposed to buy me a few drinks first, then lure me to somewhere private and take my clothes off.”

“Human men are doing it wrong.” He kissed her shoulder blade, then her spine. His hands cupped her breasts as he hardened against her butt.

“We’ll be coming back here, and we’ll have to get changed again.” She turned in his arms.

He kissed the top of her breast. Then pulled back. As tempting as it was to linger here, he hadn’t picked this doorway just to lie in a field—he could’ve done that with her in Annwyn. He wanted to forget they were fairies with far too much responsibility for one mortal night. “You’re right.”

With a last chaste kiss on her lips, he let her go. Her dress fell away, leaving her bathed in dim starlight. He was a fool. He pushed down the heat in his blood and summoned up some human clothes. There was a shower of sparks and a new pile of clothes appeared.

He bent to grab his and turned around before he took off his pants, because he knew if he watched her dressing, or she watched him undressing, they’d never get out of the field and into town.

“You know, some underwear would’ve been good.”

“Underwear?”

“Like panties and bra?”

He glanced over his shoulder; she was dressed. The clothing hid all of her but hinted at what was beneath. The dark cloth of her shirt clung to her breasts and offered glimpse of her peaked nipples. He adjusted himself in the jeans. They were far too unforgiving for his taste. The fabric was rough against his skin and revealed too much of what his body was thinking.

“Have you not had any human lovers?” She raised one eyebrow, her head tilted as if she were confused by him.

“No. I had plenty at Court. Why would I leave Annwyn?” He knew now why he’d leave, but he didn’t want to go in disgrace. He pulled the black shirt over his head. At least this was soft to touch and unrestrictive.

She crossed her arms. “Oh I don’t know, because the mortal world is fun?”

Fun. That was what had been missing from Annwyn before Taryn came along. He was enjoying the game and risks they took as they danced around each other and tried not to let others see the growing attraction. It was their game. And when they could be seen together at Court? Would he still find her as appealing? Yes, there was something about her, something that made him think that maybe he could live in the mortal world once he was no longer Hunter. She made him realize there was more to living than just the next deal, that there was a world beyond Annwyn where one mistake wasn’t deadly and where love was possible.

“Do I pass?”

She cast her gaze over him, her lips curving. “I think so. Which way to town?”

* * *

The town had been around for a very long time, although it was bigger than he remembered. In places the streets had cobbles and the buildings were a mix of new and very old. They walked hand in hand down the footpath. They weren’t the only people out on the mild evening. They did blend in well, better than he’d thought.

“There.” She pointed over the road at a building with a sign out the front. “I can’t believe I’m going to a real Irish pub and not a fake one.”

“They have fake pubs?” He was glad she could read the sign and knew where they were going. There were a lot of signs in town and they all meant nothing too him. He might look the part, but that was as far as it went. His initial joy at being in the mortal world and the life it could offer began to fade. Towns were different to the wilds, and he was ill equipped to survive amongst humans.

“They are Irish themed.” She looked at his face, then shrugged. “Never mind, it’s a human thing.”

“Right.” A human thing. Something he wouldn’t get. Even she knew that he didn’t belong here. But he hadn’t belonged at Court either; he’d had to find his feet there and he had. Surely the mortal world couldn’t be any harder?

He followed her into the pub. Music was going—or what humans called music. People were sitting around talking; there was a clear area near a stage that must have been for dancing but no one was using it. He could see why if this was the music they were supposed to dance to.

“What do you want to drink?” She pulled him toward a counter made of polished wood. Behind on shelves were bottles of liquid.

“I don’t know.” He hadn’t realized there’d be so many different things to choose from. “Is there wine?”

“We’re in Ireland. Irish whiskey it is—or Guinness.”

“What can I get you, miss?” The man behind the bar looked at Taryn and then him, then took a second glance, his eyes narrowing. “You got money to pay?”

“Certainly.” Verden took some leaves out of his pocket and put them on the counter.

The man didn’t touch them. He lifted a necklace free of his shirt. A gray stone with a hole through the center. Verden tensed as the man lifted the stone to his eye and looked at the leaves through the hole. The man let the stone fall against his chest and stepped back. “I don’t want no trouble from your kind.”

“We aren’t what you think; we’re just here for a good time.” That was a half-truth at best.

The man reached under the counter and plonked an iron horseshoe on the counter. “Prove it. Prove you aren’t fairy.”

Damn it all to the river. “Okay we are fairy. But we aren’t here to make trouble.”

“Please, sir, we just want a couple of whiskeys.” Taryn smiled and it was all charm—he would have fallen under its spell if he had not already fallen for her.

“You won’t be changing my mind with pretty smiles, lassie.”

Verden touched her arm. “Maybe we should just go. People are looking.” He didn’t want to be attracting too much attention. If they knew about fairies and knew how to use fairy stones to see through glamours, they might also be reporting back to Annwyn.

Taryn bit her lip, then she looked at the man. “We can’t be seen together at Court; we came here to get away. I’m sure I’ve got something to pay for the drinks with.”

“You won’t curse my pub?”

Verden shook his head.

“Or my family?”

“No curses. We swear.” Verden put his hand over his heart.

A greedy glint appeared in the man’s eye. “How about a wish if I guess your name?”

Verden leaned on the bar. “Don’t be pushing your luck.”

“Right you are. How do plan on paying?”

“My ruby ring?” Taryn held out her hand.

The man looked at it through the fairy stone. “Made in Annwyn?”

She nodded.

“That’s not ruby. Got anything mortal-made on you?” The man looked at Verden.

He had nothing mortal-made on him. Taryn bent down and pulled off her shoe. When she stood she was holding the toe ring. Gold with a chip of amethyst.

She placed the ring on the counter. “Mortal-made.”

The man looked at it through the stone, then picked it up. “Very well, two whiskeys each, no curses on me, my pub, or my family.”

Verden waited until the man had walked away to fill their order. “You didn’t have to do that. We could have gone somewhere else where they’d take our money.”

“It’s better this way; otherwise, we are just tricking and stealing.”

“But you had to part with gold.” What was wrong with letting the humans think they were paying? Isn’t that what magic was for?

She shrugged. “It was from an old boyfriend. I just wore it because it annoyed my mother. She said I should aim higher than getting a toe ring from a boyfriend.”

Verden used her hip to pull her close. “What would she say now?”

“Probably that I was being reckless.” She kissed him, a light brushing of her lips over his and just enough to make him hungry for more.

“She’d be right.” He kept his hand on her hip, his fingers resting on the lip of the pocket on her jeans. They molded to the shape of her butt. Maybe humans were onto something with these clothes.

The man put the four drinks on the counter. “No trouble.” He picked up the horseshoe and put it behind the bar. “I got more where that came from.”

It wasn’t that iron kept fairies away, but it hurt to touch. It burned skin and took far longer to heal than any other wound, and if a fairy got iron in their body, it had to all be picked out or they would die of slow, painful poisoning. Verden nodded, understanding the threat.

They picked up their glasses and sat down at a table as far away from the counter as they could.

Taryn took a sip of her drink and shivered. “I don’t usually drink straight spirits.”

Verden gave it a sniff. The smell seemed to burn his nose. “This is safe?”

“I’m still here.”

“I mean, he didn’t slip some iron filing in to kill us?”

Her eyes widened in horror. “He wouldn’t.” She cleared her throat. “How would I tell?”

“You’d be on the floor howling in pain by now.”

She kicked him under the table. “You let me drink it.”

“Ow. You didn’t give me a chance.” He took a taste—not even a sip from his glass, just enough to wet his tongue. The ice clunked and liquid burned with a taste that was sharp and smooth and a little sweet. He took a proper drink and fire burned down his throat and hit his stomach. He drew in a breath as the scent went up his nose.

Taryn grinned at him as she took another drink. “You like?”

“Not particularly.”

“No one does at first, but if you keep going it tastes better—or you just forget that it tastes awful because you no longer care.”

Already he could feel the tension fading as the whiskey got into his blood and warmed him. He lifted his glass and tapped it against hers. “To being human.”

“To being human,” she echoed, and they both drank. “So why wouldn’t he take my ring?” She waggled her fingers over the table.

“Because things that are made in Annwyn often lose their luster here.”

“Like banished fairies.”

“Exactly.” Had forming words always been this hard? He took another drink and drained the glass. She was right; this stuff did get better. “He might have woken up to find a lump of coal instead of a ruby.”

She swirled the ice around her glass and watched it as if it were fascinating. “Pretty fakes. Kind of sums up the place.”

“Don’t judge everyone in Annwyn by what you see at Court.” He placed his hand over hers. “There are plenty who are doing what’s right and what’s best for both worlds but they are constrained.”

“Why not change the rules if they no longer work?”

He frowned. He should be able to come up with a logical response, one that defended Annwyn and the way fairies behaved. The back stabbing and scheming, the elaborate games to get what they wanted, and the power hungry deals that were made over the dinner table and completed in a bedroom. He had nothing. “You can’t just change a society that has existed for thousands of years.”

“But it has changed over the years, from wild fae to colonizing Annwyn, from being worshipped as gods to being almost forgotten. Surely there is another evolution. Nothing stands still forever.”

“Felan will have a chance to make changes.” Verden leaned back against the seat, as his bones seemed to give up and turn soft. His blood was warm and his mind fuzzy. He felt it, knew it was the alcohol and knew this was why no one in Annwyn drank anything alcoholic. Dropping one’s guard there could be fatal. Here it felt good. He gazed at Taryn, aware he was smiling more than he should. “It’ll also depend on his wife.” He shook his head as if that would help clear it. “Politics makes my head hurt.”

“Have another drink.” She picked up her second glass.

He watched as her lips curved against the rim. He wanted to run his tongue over her lip and taste the whiskey from her mouth. The rapid beat of the music filled his blood and drowned out thoughts. He needed to feel her skin against his, her body around his. His body responded, hardening even though his muscles were lax, and she grinned as if she knew what he was thinking.

“You want to finish these drinks and get out of here?”

“What would a mortal do?”

“Wait for the band to start, have a few more drinks, call a cab, and crash into bed.”

He didn’t catch half of that. The way her lips moved when she spoke was far too distracting. “Hmm?”

“You are a cheap date. You’re drunk already.”

Ah, so this was what she’d been talking about. He closed his eyes. He was pretty sure that if the King walked in right now and saw him with Taryn, Verden wouldn’t actually care. He’d tell him to pull up a seat and have some whiskey until it all went away. For a moment he could see himself living here, far away from Court. Free.

“What do you think would happen if we never went back?” Here they wouldn’t have to worry about the squabbles of royalty.

“We’d die in the power shift. We’ll go back, and it will be like we never left.” Her voice was soft.

Like they’d never left. He didn’t want to go back to that. It was eating him like poison, killing him like iron. What he wanted wasn’t possible. He’d heard that before though; when he’d left the farm, his parents had told it was a waste of time and that the Court would never accept him. He’d proved them wrong. He’d prove the Court wrong too and have Taryn—he just didn’t know how yet.

“We won’t be the same.” He finished his second glass and was sure it hit him harder than the first. The room took a moment to steady. “Do you do this often?”

“A few times, and I always left with someone.” She gave him a wink. “Do you want me to take advantage of you?”

In Annwyn the answer would’ve been no. But he wasn’t in Annwyn and she wasn’t talking about some gamble or game. He had no idea what she was saying. “Take advantage of me how?”

Her fingers laced with his as she stood up. “Oh, I think you’ll like it.”

He got up, almost stumbled, then laughed. The fuzziness in his head didn’t clear but he didn’t care. All the things that were supposed to matter disappeared when he looked at Taryn.

“You’re not drunk.”

“I’m merry, but I’ve had alcohol before. You haven’t.”

“Can you imagine if the whole Court was drunk?”

“I have, and I’ve been so tempted to spike the wine just to see them falling over and making bad deals.”

He would make very bad deals at the moment. He couldn’t think ahead more than his next few steps, let alone the planning needed to…what was he thinking? He gave up. It was too complicated. Here everything was simple.

The warm night air enveloped him. He could smell the magic of midsummer brewing, gathering in the dusk. “Do you feel it?”

He turned and clasped both her hands, then spun her in a circle. The streetlights shone brighter; everything was sharper.

“Feel what?”

“You can taste it.” He ran his tongue over his lip. It was sweet like summer berries. Then he kissed her, to see if he could taste the magic of midsummer on her lips. The heat of her mouth on his, the lingering scent of whiskey on her breath, and the pounding of his blood in his ears. He was alive for the first time in too long and he could feel it, feel the world within him—but all he wanted was Taryn to be there with him.

Her tongue flicked over his lips and dipped into his mouth. Her body was pressed against his. She moaned once then drew back.

“Maybe you should have just had one glass of whiskey.” She tugged him off the road and led him down the street.

Verden stopped. “Stay still a moment and feel it, listen to the earth. You can feel the energy changing, as the earth prepares to winter.” It was there, a humming that vibrated through him. Like the magic of the jungle only bigger, older, and more powerful. All fairies had once been connected to that power. Now only the wild fae were.

“Yeah…you do know that in the southern hemisphere it’s winter now.”

“Coming up to midwinter.” He could tell from the look on her face she couldn’t feel it. Maybe it was the alcohol flooding his blue blood. “The endless cycle.”

“Come on, the walk back will sober you up.” She was smiling, her hand still linked with his.

Sober up.

Reality slipped back through the cracks. While he was free tonight, it was all waiting for him. The idea of sitting through another dinner, another dance, where he was supposed to smile as though he was enjoying himself—it made his stomach turn.

No, that was definitely the whiskey. Verden drew in a couple of slow breaths. His feet moving, letting Taryn lead.

“Sorry, I’m not on my best behavior.” He was saying things he shouldn’t, things he should only think. No doubt she thought him a little crazy—but he could feel the earth pulsing. Is that what the wild fae felt? Did they tumble through the seasons, reveling in each one the way fairies pretended to at Court with elaborate parties?

“That’s the idea of drinking.” She tipped her head back to look at the stars. “It’s so nice to not be there.”

“It’s nice to not be there with you.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her, unable to keep his hands from touching her. Her lips were warm and her arms slid around his neck as she leaned closer. His hands skimmed down her body to cup her butt and hold her there. His shaft hardened and pressed against the jeans. Taryn wriggled her hips as if enjoying teasing him. If they weren’t still in town, he’d be laying her down and having her. She was his.

At that moment he didn’t want to go back to Annwyn, even though he knew they had to. That they both had jobs to do and lives at risk.

He promised himself things would be different when they returned, even though he didn’t know how to make it different. Something needed to change. For both of them. For Annwyn and for the mortal world.

“Did you want to get a room?” she whispered, her breath on his lips and her fingers in his hair holding him there as if she expected him to pull away.

He took another kiss before answering. It was easier to kiss than think; his body knew what it wanted. “It’s too nice to be indoors.”

“Then we’d better get moving. We can catch a cab to the field. You still got leaves in your pocket?”

“What?” She was jumping ahead too fast for him to keep up.

“Never mind. I can use my ring. Next time I’m bringing my purse—it’s got real money in it.”

Before he had time to catch up, she’d hailed a cab and given directions. He closed his eyes as the cab darted through the town and out toward the farms. When they drew close to a house, Taryn called a stop and paid with the leaves from his pocket—her fingers brushing against him for a moment before handing them over. The dark-skinned driver accepted them without question and drove away. If he’d been Irish, he’d have been more careful about picking up fairies. Still it was good to be out of the vehicle. He preferred horses—although no one rode them around anymore, and carriages were gone too.

He’d spent more time in the mortal world when he’d been a farmer’s son than he had in the whole time since he’d been at Court. What a waste. He should have kept up with the changes better. He should’ve learned to read—Felan could read and write, not that he made it common knowledge. It was deemed a useless skill. Yet after tonight, Verden could see the need.

“I need to learn to read. Is it hard?”

“I don’t think so. But if you intend to spend more time here, it would be advisable.”

They walked further up the lane before clambering over the fence and into the field, the cluster of trees little more than a blot against the night. It had been easier climbing over on the way into town. He stumbled and blamed the whiskey even as he grinned and laughed at himself.

Taryn was smiling too, that full smile that revealed her teeth and lit up her eyes as if they were amber catching the sun. Why was she interested him? He was as corrupt as the next fairy—maybe more because he was the Hunter. The things he’d done to get here…the things he’d do to get free.

“You’d like me to spend more time here.”

She slowed her pace, and he could see the pinch of her eyebrows even in the starlight. “What’s going to happen when Felan takes the throne?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t care right now. “Leave it for another day. We came here to forget about that for one night.”

Taryn nodded. “I know, but it’s always there, at the back of my mind.”

“It’s at the front of mine most days.” The best he could hope for was a loss of rank, the worst banishment. It all depended on how Felan felt on the day. He’d have to spend some more time with the Prince—without betraying Gwyn. Right now he couldn’t see a way out of the web without tearing everything down in the process, and if he did that, he’d take Taryn with him. He couldn’t do that. Not when she was still dependent on the King’s good will to save her father.

He tripped and let himself fall to the grass, then rolled onto his back. The stars turned, as if dancing to the tune of the earth. He flexed his fingers and let the grass tickle his palms. He just wanted to sink into the ground and be absorbed by the magic everyone had forgotten.

“You aren’t getting up, are you?”

“No.” He reached up and snagged her calf and pulled her down on top of him. “I think we should stay right here.” Her weight grounded him further; he could feel his head clearing. They should’ve taken a bottle from the pub and kept drinking. Drowned out the night and everyone else in existence, on both sides of the veil.

She wriggled, making herself comfortable, her hips moving against his. He groaned and threaded his fingers into her hair, pulling her closer as he tried to block out the rest of the world. His hand slid under her shirt.

Then he was pulling it off as she tried to pull his off. Hands glided over skin. His fingers brushed her breast but didn’t stop as he got her jeans open. She got there first, pushing his down. They rolled, fighting to be free of the denim, kicking it clear. He ended up on top of her, her hips cradling his, both of them naked beneath the night.

“Better.” He kissed her again. He was aching to have her. It felt like it had been too long. A couple of days at Court, maybe weeks here.

“Better,” she agreed, her legs easing apart so he could rest between them.

Her eyes glittered in the soft light; her skin glowed like she was lit with magic. No one could look at her and think she was mortal no matter how clever the glamour. She was too pretty, too special.

Too nice to be playing with the likes of him.

He’d plotted and schemed his way as high as he could go. What a web he’d built himself—so well made he hadn’t realized he’d been setting his own trap. He couldn’t drag her into it. He needed to be the one to walk away so only one of them went down with the power shift.

He rolled off her and lay on his back. His blood thrummed with unspent desire. He wished he could blame it on the mortal world or the whiskey, but it wasn’t. The rush and burn of lust happened whenever he looked at Taryn, whether here or in Annwyn. She did this to him. Made him want to roll the dice and bet it all.

“What’s wrong?” She propped herself up and peered at him, her dark hair tickling his chest. He caught a stray curl and brought it to his lips.

He’d forgotten the ease of lying in the grass surrounded by his parents’ cattle. What he’d once seen as dull farming life at the fringes of Annwyn had actually been living—not dancing around and playing games with others’ lives.

“I was wrong.” And it was too late for him to go back and undo it all.

“Wrong about what?”

“Everything.” He’d mistaken Court and status for living, used sex as a bargaining chip and a way to seal deals. He’d thought gambling with his heart was the worst thing he could ever do. The worst thing would be if he ignored it and pretended as though it didn’t matter. A man without a heart wasn’t living. He caressed her cheek. “I love you.”

Chapter 14

Taryn drew in a sharp breath. That had been the last thing she’d been expecting Verden to say. He loved her? No. He liked her maybe. He liked sneaking off with her. But love, that was impossible. Fairy men didn’t gamble their hearts on love.

“That’s the whiskey talking,” she murmured, even though she wished it could be true.

He used a tendril of hair to draw her closer. “It’s not. When I’m with you, I don’t care about Court politics. You make me live again. I don’t want this to end, yet I should be turning away. I should never have started it.”

“You didn’t.”

“If I hadn’t offered to take you across the veil, would you have sought me out?”

She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, Verden was looking at her, his usually pale eyes were dark and unreadable in the shadows. “Yes. My mother gave me a list of people to talk to, to try and secure the pardon. You were on the list.”

He laughed, cold and bitter. “So you played along, thinking I could help you. I am a fool.” He tried to sit up, but she placed a hand on his chest and he lay back down.

“No. At first, I used you to cross the veil, to escape Court, but then it became something more. I longed for each visit and I never wanted them to end. We are both fools for letting it get this far, knowing we had no chance.” She swallowed down the lump in her throat. It wasn’t fair. “I never planned to fall for anyone. I just wanted to help my parents and go home.”

His fingers moved over her skin, as if he couldn’t stop touching her. Her thoughts tumbled around and tangled. The warm summer air clung to her skin and made her ache for something more. She needed to do something; there was an edge in her blood that he sharpened with every touch.

His hand stopped. “We should break up.”

“What?”

“Until Felan is King.” He looked her in the eye and she saw the cold glint of a fairy plotting. “Until then, we play it safe, no risks.”

“No crossing the veil.” There would be nothing to look forward to.

His fingers traced the curve of her breast. “No stolen kisses.”

“No secret liaisons.” She moved her thigh over his, her hand trailed down his chest, over smooth bands of muscle.

“Definitely none of them.” But he made no effort to stop her fingers as they traced the length of his erection. “After tonight.”

“Once more for old times’ sake, then we break up to save our relationship.” And ourselves.

“Yes.”

She laughed. “Only a fairy would think that was a good idea.”

“But it is, because if we aren’t together, we won’t be thinking about being together when we aren’t together, which means we won’t accidentally get caught.”

It took her a moment to process what he was saying. She may not be drunk, but the edges were fuzzy. She could see why no one drank at Court. One too many wines and all the clever plans would come unraveled. But here they were making plans—not great ones, but the best they could do.

“This is why humans like alcohol. After a couple drinks, you can solve all your problems.” She leaned in and ran her tongue over his lower lip. He opened his mouth to her.

They were going to regret this in the morning, she was sure of it. But right now they were breaking up so they had to break up really good. She eased her leg over his hip to straddle him, then pinned his hands beneath hers.

“I’ve caught the Hunter,” she said with a smile as she rolled her hips against his, feeling his hardened flesh pressing close, teasing.

He closed his eyes and groaned, but made no effort to pull his hands free. “No one has ever tried to catch me before.”

“You like?”

“I like everything you do.” Then he arched his back as if attempting to throw her off, but he wasn’t trying hard and she remained seated. “Looks like you have me trapped.”

She leaned forward so the tips of her nipples brushed his chest; then she nipped his lip. “And what do I get?”

“What do you want?” His hips lifted suggestively.

This was going to be a problem. She couldn’t hold him and angle his shaft to be able to have her way with him. She broke eye contact, tried not to laugh, and failed. She should have had an extra glass or two to drink.

He joined her laughter, the dusting of hair on his chest tickling her breasts. “You didn’t think that through very well did you?”

She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She’d been joking about catching him, but she could see the appeal of holding down one of the most powerful men in Annwyn. He was hers. For tonight. What if they never got back together? She couldn’t think like that.

She shifted her grip. “You want me to hold you?”

“And never let go.” He was smiling, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight, but she felt the weight of his words. He was giving himself to her.

She leaned down and kissed him as if the world was ending. He slid one hand free, his fingers grazing the side of her breast, then skimming lower, over her butt, between their bodies. His hand slid up her inner thigh and then over her sex, his fingers dipping into the slick heat of her core. His gaze was on her, watching as he played and stroked her clit. Tension tightened in her belly, but before she got close, his hand eased away and was replaced by the heat of his shaft nudging at her sex. She rocked back, ready to take him. Then stopped. She wasn’t ready to end this.

“Ride me.”

“Not yet.” She released his hand and sat up. In the soft light, his muscles dipped and curved; dark hair trailed down his stomach. She flicked her tongue over one flat brown nipple. Then she moved lower, kissing and licking her way down. He drew in a breath and his body tensed.

Her tongue touched the tip of his shaft and he flinched. A breeze traced across her skin, but instead of cooling her, it made her hotter as she realized how sticky her skin was becoming and how hard her blood was pumping. She could feel the lust coiling in her body, waiting to be released.

She took him in her mouth. Satiny, hot, hard flesh against her tongue. When she sucked, he tasted like tart berries. Her hand glided down the length of him as she watched his every reaction. The tightening of his stomach, the hiss of his breath as he clamped his teeth together, but his eyes remained open, watching. She circled the crown with her tongue, her lips caressing the smooth skin one last time before she eased back up his body, aware of the tension in her belly and the need slicking her sex. She positioned his shaft and took him into her core slowly, enjoying every inch until she was fully seated.

Their gazes locked as she began to move. He shifted beneath her to thrust deeper, one hand on her hip. With his eyes on her, she let one of her hands slide over her thigh, to the junction of her legs. Her fingers pushed through the dark, damp curls to her clit. His gaze dropped to watch her hand.

He was all hers. His body was tense and spread before her, waiting for her to come. His gaze tracked every movement. He dragged her down for a kiss, his hand in her hair, his touch rough and needy. He moved, and in her next breath she was on her back looking up at him as his sank back into her.

She moaned and arched toward him, each thrust becoming more urgent. Her core clenched around him as she came, her hips moving faster as she tried to drag every drop of pleasure from the moment. He shuddered and stilled, his head resting on her shoulder. His breath on her skin. Above her the stars glittered. They were so far away here, shiny dots of far-off suns. In Annwyn they hung heavy and close in a purple sky.

He lifted his head and looked at her before placing a soft kiss on her lips and easing away to lie on the grass next to her.

Her breathing returned to normal, but she could still feel a tingle in her blood and a warmth on her skin, something more than just the afterglow. “You know, I think I can feel the midsummer magic.”

“Seasons turn. We’ll have our day in the sun, just not now.” He linked his fingers with hers and they watched the sky, both knowing that they were over and that they had to go back, but neither wanting to be the first to move.

* * *

A deep lowing nearby made Taryn open her eyes. For a moment she didn’t know where she was. Then it all spun back in a rush. She was still in the field. The noise was from a cow that was eyeing her and it was no longer night.

“Ah shit.” She gave Verden a shove. “It’s almost morning.” Dawn had arrived and was nearly over. What time was it back in Annwyn?

Time moved differently there. It had probably only been a few hours, not a whole night—but she wasn’t willing to gamble on that. She grabbed up her dress and started pulling it on.

Verden sat up, his head in his hands. “What is that awful pounding?”

“Hangover, which will be worse if we don’t move it.” She tossed his clothes at him and tried to ignore the pressure on her temples. That was the reason she didn’t drink very often; it didn’t take much to get her tipsy but she always had a killer headache afterward. She’d thought it was just her, but apparently it was a fairy thing.

“You didn’t warn me about that.”

“Sorry. I don’t have aspirin either so you’ll just have to tough it out.” The way she would, until she got back to her room in Annwyn and rummaged through her purse. She should offer him one…nah, they’d broken up and he needed something to remember her by.

He tugged on his pants and boots, and for the first time since she’d known him, he looked like he’d had a rough night. His hair had come loose and was curling on his shoulders with the occasional piece of grass poking out. What did she look like?

“You’ve got grass in your hair.”

Verden stopped doing up his shirt and looked at her. “So do you.”

She hastily combed her hair with her fingers and twisted it in a loose knot, hoping that she looked presentable. “We’ve stayed too long.”

“We’ll be fine. I have been out cavorting and…well, people will assume you’ve been in someone’s bed, just not mine.” There was an edge to his voice, but where he once would have touched her or helped pull the grass out of her hair, he kept his distance. It was better that way. Easier.

“Right, of course.” She glanced at the trees that marked the doorway, anxious to get back, yet not wanting to leave. “Shall we go?”

Verden gathered up the mortal clothing and led the way. She followed, unable to walk beside him in case she accidentally took his hand. What would the Court say if she walked in wearing jeans?

“Remind me again why mortals drink?” He stopped by the doorway.

“To relax, to forget their troubles for a while.”

“They don’t care that the troubles will be waiting?” He reached out to touch her cheek, then pulled his hand back at the last moment.

Taryn turned her head away. “We have to do this properly.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to touch you.”

“Isn’t that what Court is about? Doing things you don’t want to with a smile on your face?”

“No. Court is for the power hungry and those that love the game. The rest live at the edges of Annwyn or in the mortal world. I’m tired of the game.”

“Last roll of the dice?”

He nodded.

“And the King?”

Pain flickered in his eyes before being masked. He was preparing himself to go back, constructing the lie as she watched all emotion leave his face. “I’m still his.” He paused. “Loyal subject as are you.”

She knew they’d been friends once. Now Verden couldn’t stand to see the King with her, and if the King knew what they were doing he’d be pissed. But she loved Verden, not the King, and while there were many things she’d do to get her parents back, going to his bed wasn’t one of them. She couldn’t pretend sex was just a business transaction or part of a deal. It meant something to her. And it meant something to Verden now.

“You’re my first fairy ex.” She forced a smile.

“Ex what?”

“Ex-lover.” Boyfriend didn’t seem quite right.

He placed a kiss on her lips before she could pull back. “Only fairy lover. This is temporary.”

Her heart hitched as she gazed into his eyes, pale gray like rain clouds of a summer storm. “Very temporary.”

Chapter 15

No one was saying it, but Felan knew this was the last midsummer that would be celebrated under his father’s rule. The swelling of the river and the spreading of winter from its banks had gone too far for it to be salvaged. It swirled and sucked at the ground in front of him as if trying to reach him. Every so often, a face or a hand would push against the surface in an effort to get free. How many souls had been condemned to spend eternity drowning, never able to break free and draw breath again? He shivered as if the chill from the river was caught in his blood.

Above him the branches glistened with frost. No leaves remained; the blight was spreading. Every day a little more ground and another tree succumbed to winter. Before he claimed the throne, Annwyn would be coated in snow—but hopefully not for long.

All he had to do was convince Jacqueline to marry him to save both worlds.

Of course, they hadn’t spoken for seven mortal years, but he’d kept watch, unable to look away from the woman who’d broken his heart. The only woman to have ever done that. He looked up at the sound of hooves. The Hunter. His father’s Hunter.

“You are looking exceptionally morose today,” Verden said as he swung off the horse.

“You too.”

“We all have reason to be grim.” He nodded at the river.

They could have spoken over dice or cards. But Felan didn’t want to be overheard and he certainly didn’t want to be seen with Verden too much—no doubt Verden felt the same way, as it might look as though his loyalty was shifting. It wasn’t, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have mutual goals.

“Tell me of Taryn’s deal with my father.”

“You could ask her yourself.”

Felan glanced at the Hunter. Something was wrong and it involved Taryn. “I’m asking you because I expect her to have told you and you will have already examined it and drawn conclusions.”

Verden looked away. “If her father agrees to his original punishment—to serve as a shadow for a year and day—he may return.”

“And Arlea?”

“Nothing specified but she isn’t exiled. I don’t think she’d be welcomed at Court.” Verden spoke carefully. Too carefully.

“And?”

There was a pause as if the Hunter were chewing over something unpalatable. “Taryn is still bound to the King and therefore beyond my reach.”

Felan nodded. “I don’t know if there is much I can do.”

“You placed her there in the first place. You brought her here to get the pardon.”

“And if I hadn’t, you would never have met her.” Felan crossed his arms and sighed. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“Horse shit. You don’t want to do anything.”

“And what price are you willing to pay to have me intercede in my father’s private matters? What reason would you have me give to him when he has pursued her publicly this far?”

Verden took a few steps away and turned around. For a moment Felan saw the raw pain on the other man’s face. “It doesn’t matter; we are over.”

“So soon?”

“How can we continue when everything is set against us?”

“It won’t be forever.” That was all the comfort he could give Verden.

“I know and I’m counting on it.”

“Do you seek to change your position with me?”

Verden shook his head. “My word remains unbroken. I will not break it to suit your purpose.”

“So you have said before and yet here you are, speaking freely, keeping my secrets as I keep yours. So I ask you plainly: if we weren’t at cross-purpose, would you act on my behalf?”

Verden was silent for a moment. If he’d answered too fast, Felan would have doubted his sincerity. Here was a man weighing his future and trying to find a clear path to the one thing he wanted. Taryn. Felan wasn’t enough of a bastard to use that against him. He wanted that, that moment where nothing held value except love. “I would.”

“Very well. When the time comes, I will ask for your aid and you will provide it. In return, I will keep your loyalty in mind when reforming the Court.”

“Thank you, Prince.” Verden looked at him. “But I may not remain at Court come spring.”

“Ah.” Felan nodded. It was sometimes what wasn’t said that meant more. Verden was done with Court. The only reason he was here now was to try and keep Taryn away from Gwyn. Come spring, he was planning a life with her. Felan wanted to tell Verden the truth about his father and that it was all for show, but it didn’t matter whether it was real or not, as the result was the same. Verden couldn’t be with Taryn while the King still held her hand.

“I have business that takes me to the fringes tonight. Will you attend her?”

Felan looked at Verden. He looked worn, troubled, and heartsick—he knew because he’d looked that way seven years ago. It gave him hope. He wouldn’t make his parents’ mistake. He wanted love. He’d had it once and had walked away. This time he would fight. And win. He couldn’t fail.

“I will watch over her.” It was the best he could do.

Verden turned away, his fingers wound in the horse’s mane as if he were preparing to leave.

“If you knew who plotted against me, you’d tell me?”

The Hunter swung himself onto the horse. “If I knew, I would. I swore to Gwyn, but I intend to swear to you and no one else come spring. Claim your bride, claim the throne, and I shall be kneeling at the front.”

“One thing at a time.”

“I don’t envy you. Humans are a strange bunch.”

Felan laughed. “That they are, but I am happy with my fate. I hope yours works out the way you’ve planned.”

Verden gave a single nod and turned the horse. Felan watched him ride away. Happy wasn’t the right word. He wanted happy.

* * *

The horse galloped over the grass, following the river that divided Annwyn from the Elysian Fields. Occasionally, through the mist on the other side, Verden glimpsed shapes, but for the most part it was hidden. Not even fairies knew what happened on the other side. After he’d put some distance between him and the castle, he let the horse slow. He was past the hamlets that clustered near the edges and supplied the castle with clothes and shoes, and into the forest. His horse picked a path along the trails made by deer and horse. Last time he’d come this way, he’d been on foot and it had taken several days of travel.

He’d never been home since.

I didn’t have time

That was the excuse he’d told himself, but the truth was he didn’t know how to face the parents who warned him not to go, begged him not to leave. Had taken him across the veil to try and convince him that the mortal world was better than Court, but he’d gotten it into his head that he wanted to be someone of standing, not just a farmer’s son, and had gone.

The only thing in his head this morning was a dull ache that was echoed in his heart. Temporary. But what if her feelings changed? Temporary. What if his feelings changed? Temporary. He wanted to ride back to Court, kidnap her, and take her with him.

He needed the night away or he might change his mind and take her across the veil. This would be easier if he didn’t have to see her at all. Tomorrow night was the dance and they had other partners, so it would be easy to avoid her. Who was he fooling? Not himself.

She was lodged under his skin and he didn’t want to pull out the splinter no matter how much pain it caused him. It reminded him why he was doing this. As Felan had said, come spring, things will be different. All he and Taryn had to do was wait out the change in season.

And then he would have to decide if he wanted to remain at Court. He hadn’t lied; Taryn wasn’t a Court fairy, but he didn’t know if he was cut out to be a Brownie, the highest ranked fairy in the mortal world, or just a drifter, a fairy that flitted between worlds and made a real life in neither.

He was going home to see if this third option was viable, as well as to see his parents—if they still lived. A new ache formed. He shouldn’t have left it so long. What if they had died? He might be loyal to Gwyn, but he was a poor son. His father had deserved better.

Taryn was doing everything she could to save her father. Her loyalty and love for her family came first, while he’d thrown it away like a pair of old shoes. He’d sold himself to the highest bidder and not looked back. Now he’d let her go. What kind of man was he?

He had to let her go so she could get the pardon. Her family came first. While she did that, this was his chance to make amends with his family.

The doubt increased the closer he got. What if his parents weren’t there, or if they wouldn’t see him? He wanted to see them before winter. He wanted them to know he’d done well and brought honor to the family. He wanted them to know things were in flux. He wanted to know how his father had known to marry his mother. How they knew it was the right thing to do. It had been a long time since he’d done the right thing instead of the expected thing—and the two were quite often very different.

How did he tell love from the thrill of the chase and the lure of the forbidden? He’d meant it when the words had slipped past his lips. But had it been the whiskey?

The sky was deepening to purple when the forest thinned and the small farmhouses came into sight. Spread out along the hills, some were grander than others, but this was where the milk came from for the cheeses and cakes; the honey was gathered from the hives at the edges of the forest. The berries for wine would be farmed to his right, just over the rise. If he climbed the hill, he’d be high enough to see a curve in the river.

That was something most never realized. He had simply from riding and observing. Annwyn was an island. Around it was the river of damned and on the other side the Elysian Fields. Annwyn was a dot. A tiny portal through which souls passed. Without the fairies colonizing it and drawing on the power and stabilizing the river, the human population would have never expanded and progressed the way it had. Fairies had given humans the space to flourish without death bleeding through and stalking them at every turn.

For a moment longer, he watched the houses.

The horse stamped her feet beneath him, impatient for food and rest. He could do with the same. Maybe if his parents weren’t there, he’d at least be able to beg a bed and meal. He had coins with him, oak and ash, the smaller valued ones, as unscrupulous fairies didn’t always live at Court.

He urged the horse forward and went toward the small stone house that had been standing long before his parents had lived there and would no doubt be standing long after.

A man with dark blond hair, cut short and spiky, stopped his work. He leaned on a staff and watched Verden approach. Around him milled a few white cows with rust-colored tips on their ears. That had been his job once, to bring the cows in at dusk and to make sure they didn’t wander into the river.

“And who might you be?” the man said as Verden drew close.

“Verden ap Hollis.” He left off the third name he was entitled to use as part of the King’s council. Out here that wouldn’t win him any favors.

The man’s gaze skimmed over his clothing. “Bit far from Court aren’t you?”

Verden considered for a moment before answering. He was so used to revealing as little as possible that even answering straightforward questions was hard—except when he was around Taryn. If he turned around now and fled back to the castle, he’d always wonder. He didn’t want that. He needed to know. “My parents used to run this farm, I came to see how they fare. Perhaps I’m too late.”

The thought weighed heavy. He should have come home sooner, but somehow he’d become caught up in the games and had lost track of time. If Taryn had never arrived, he may never have realized how hollow his life had become.

“Ap Hollis you say? Guess that makes us brothers.”

Verden was so well trained at keeping his thoughts private that he was sure no flickers of shock crossed his face, but he felt it like a sword to the gut. Sharp and painful, and possibly fatal. He had a brother. No one had sent word.

“Brothers?”

“Aye, Beynon ap Fira.” He gave a half bow. “Did you get yourself kicked out and come back?”

Is that what everyone thought would happen? Were they waiting for him to come home with his tail between his legs like a bad puppy? Verden smiled, his teeth showing. “You’re speaking to the Lord of the Hunt.”

His brother blanched. “I meant no offense, Lord.” He bowed again, this time slowly and deliberately showing full respect.

“None taken. This time.” While this man was family, he didn’t know him and he couldn’t let it be said that he relaxed amongst the commoners. He had status to maintain. Always maintain. Always fighting to hold on and prove he was still at the top. He knew Gwyn wouldn’t cast him down so close to the end, but then it would start again with Felan. He wanted off the never-ending path that led nowhere yet promised to take you everywhere.

Beynon looked at him again; this time there was more than casual interest in his gaze. “I grew up hearing how you’d left for Court. Ma and Da never imagined you’d get that far. Lord of the Hunt. Big jump from herding cows.”

“It took time, luck, and a gamble that I was lucky paid off.”

“That’s what Court’s about isn’t it? Just a gamble based on lies.”

What could he tell his brother that would emphasize Court’s importance, yet diminish its attraction? He didn’t want his parents to lose another son to the giddy lure.

“It’s beautiful and everything you imagine. Like dancing on the blade of a sword and wondering if you’re next step will be your last, and yet you can’t stop, because if you stand still it’s certain failure.”

“Is that why you came back? We’ve seen the frost on the ground in the mornings and the choppy river that swells every day. We aren’t stupid. Winter is coming isn’t it?”

“Let’s have this conversation inside.”

After a moment, Beynon nodded. “Remember how to herd cows?”

“Yes.” He longed for the simplicity he knew he’d never find at Court. No wonder Gwyn was tired and wasn’t going to resist when Felan took over. It wasn’t just about what was best for Annwyn; it was also what was best for him. Maybe Verden needed to do the same, walk away and not look back. However, he’d been at Court for most of his life and the idea of turning his back and losing everything he’d spend so long working for rankled. That was the trap. Once in, if you threw down your hand, you lost everything. Few who came to Court left willingly.

He nudged the horse forward. In silence, the brothers herded the cows into their pen for the night. He left the horse untied, knowing that he could always call it back if it wandered and no one here would even try to touch the King’s horses.

The house was much as he remembered, stone with a thatched roof. His parents were well-off by farming standards, but he could see why the Court looked down their noses and called them peasants. There was a coarseness to the work, a rough edge that had taken many mortal years for Verden to smooth off once he’d arrived at Court. Before they got close, a man came out of the house. At first glance, he looked no older than Verden or Beynon, but his eyes gave away his age—pale with a brittle look. While his flesh hadn’t aged, his spirit had. Like all old fairies, he had taken on a look as if he only had one foot in Annwyn and the other had already crossed over. Translucence wasn’t quite the right word, as his father looked solid—and yet there seemed to be less of him.

“Well, look who’s come back before the snow arrives.” Hollis crossed his arms.

“Da, this is the Hunter.”

“I changed his swaddling long before he swapped common sense for courtly lies. Now he’s come home just before the season changes.”

Verden winced. Time hadn’t eased his father’s opinion of Court. “I’m not home to stay. I came to see how you fared.”

His father snorted. “After all this time? Why now? What trouble are you in?”

All kinds of trouble, but there was no point in giving his father flashy lies and courtly half-truths. It wasn’t what he’d come here for. “I’ve fallen in love and sometime soon I’m going to have to make a decision that will affect the rest of my life. When the King is dethroned, I will lose my place.”

For all of Felan’s assurances that he wouldn’t end up exiled or banished, he wasn’t sure he could stand being at Court, listening to the others whisper about his loss of status, a loss he could never regain. No matter what he did, Felan would never make him Hunter or even part of the Council.

“That close, eh?” Hollis looked at him. Despite his age he was still sharp.

Verden just nodded.

“Best you come in and have some of our wine and bread if you haven’t grown too fancy to eat with what’s left of your family.”

Verden’s heart stopped for a moment. “What’s left? Where’s Ma?”

Hollis put his hand on Verden’s shoulder. “She’d been wasting for a few years. One morning she didn’t wake up.”

“You should have sent word.”

“Would you have come?”

“Yes. Of course I would.” He would’ve, wouldn’t he? Dropped everything to see his mother one last time? What kind of person had he become when he couldn’t even be sure of that?

Hollis shook his head. “I didn’t want to force you home and I didn’t want your homecoming to be tinged by death.”

Yet it was. But not his mother’s. His father was wasting. Old fairies withered as if not even the power of Annwyn was enough. Did Beynon even realize?

The inside of the house was much the same as Verden remembered, cozy in a way his chambers at Court could never be. Again he felt the ring of hollowness in his bones, only this time it was louder. The time he spent in the mortal world with Taryn was precious because it was real and untarnished. That was why he felt alive in her arms. Why had he ever suggested breaking up with her? She should be with him now. Except she couldn’t be; no doubt she’d be playing cards with the King. His stomach rolled as if full of whiskey again.

Do not think about it.

Just wait.

There wasn’t long to wait; then they could be together openly.

Beynon poured wine into carved wooden goblets. Verden knew those goblets. He’d made them for his parents. Now they were smooth and stained with use, warm to touch, unlike the pretty, delicate glass he’d become accustomed to.

His father sliced bread and fresh soft cheese along with dried fruit, and they sat down to eat at the same table he’d grown up sitting at. He looked at his brother; the blond hair belonged to his mother. Beynon carried his mother’s bloodline, as was often the case in Annwyn—one child for the father, and one for the mother. Is that what he’d do?

He couldn’t imagine it. Either option seemed unpalatable—either some mortal got Taryn pregnant or he got some mortal pregnant. Either way, the baby had to be born in Annwyn—and yet at some point, Taryn or he would want a child and the decision would be made. He wanted to know how his parents had made that work. Had they loved each other enough to give them what they wanted regardless of the price?

“Love, eh? That’s a bit dangerous for a man in your position,” his father said.

You have no idea how dangerous. And it was probably best not to say.

“It’s true what they say, that no one gambles with their heart at Court?” Beynon asked.

Verden looked at his brother. When had he been born? There was so much he wanted to know, and yet so much he shouldn’t ask. He had no right after abandoning his family.

His brother leaned back. “I have no intention of going to Court. I’m going to run the farm after Da crosses the veil.”

Verden almost choked on his bread. “Cross the veil?”

“I’m no fool. I’d rather death be quick than have it take years like your poor mother.” Hollis glared at Beynon. There was a reason Beynon wasn’t going to Court. He wasn’t stupid, but he gave away too much without thinking. The Court would chew him up and spit him out once bored with him. Verden knew because he’d come very close himself.

“You plan on dying in the power shift.”

“The wasting has started. I will use the opportunity to travel the mortal world for a bit. Beynon and I have discussed it.”

Again without breathing a word to him. He wanted to argue with his father and tell him to not be in such a rush to die. And yet, his father was right; there would be a few old fairies who would seek the instant death over the prolonged wasting.

With his gazed fixed on the food in front of him, Verden spoke, his voice dark and heavy. “Then you’d best be packing and crossing the veil soon if you want a chance to see some of the world.”

“Closer than we think?”

“Much.”

Hollis nodded. “I trust your judgment. You were always sharper than your mother or I. We once joked you’d leave us for greener fields; we just never expected it to be quiet so fast. I’m glad you did well and that my name has been honored at Court.”

Verden smiled even though he felt tears forming in his eyes. He blinked to clear them away. Showing emotions like that at Court was a quick way to reveal yourself as easy prey, yet here he didn’t have to hide.

“So, is she mortal or fairy?”

“Fairy, raised in the mortal world.”

“There have been a few old faces coming back around here. Guess it would be the same at Court,” Beynon added.

“A few, more in the hamlets. People don’t want to be caught on the wrong side of the veil.” He glanced at his father.

Hollis looked him in the eye but said nothing about his already made decision. “What will you do after?”

“I don’t know.”

There was no invitation to return to the farm. Hollis and Beynon had that sorted. He wasn’t needed here and he had no place at Court under Felan’s rule. Maybe he was bound for the mortal world. What place would he have there?

“You know, Son, after the change, the humans will need help to rebuild. They always do after so much death. Your grandfather, Lorcyn, helped after Gwyn took the throne, traveled through most of Europe and always had a story to tell.”

“It’s not the same now.” Taryn had been telling him about social security and passports. Travel wasn’t simple, and magic and glamours couldn’t fool science all the time.

“Well if your ladylove intends on living in the mortal world, you’re either going to have to live without her or follow. I know which one I’d choose.”

Verden already knew he couldn’t live without Taryn. But he knew nothing of life across the veil. Court hadn’t prepared him for anything other than gambling and dancing.

Chapter 16

Taryn had never seen so much activity at Court. The shadow servants flitted instead of drifted. The remains of the flowers that had hung from the vines were cleared away and tidied up so no one need watch the failing of the magic. In their place, decorations were hung, tiny nests of blue. What they had to do with midsummer she had no idea, but that is what everyone was preparing for. That was why the extra trees were being brought in, trees from the mortal world in pots to give the impression of forest inside the castle, or maybe to mask the growing lack of leaves on the castle.

She leaned a little further over the living balustrade to get a better look. The changes were fascinating and yet she still couldn’t see the point to the small white mushrooms being carefully dotted around the base of the pots.

“The change will be more dramatic tonight, in the dark.” Sulia appeared next to her.

“I’m enjoying watching the set up.” She’d also been hoping for a glimpse of Verden. It didn’t feel like a breakup; it just felt like they were being extra careful to not run into each other. “Is it this busy every festival?”

“The festivals are very important. They are how we mark time. People say they are one hundred winter festivals old—or whatever festival they were born closest too.”

“That’s the same as one hundred mortal years.”

Sulia gave her a slow blink that conveyed just how stupid she thought counting in mortal years was. “The festivals are a reminder of our past and our connection to the mortal world. Some fairies only come to Court for the festivals.”

“What about those in the hamlets and farms?”

“They have their own celebrations.”

“But my mother could come back to Court for tonight.”

Sulia gave a little laugh. “Your mother wouldn’t be welcome at Court, but she could join one of the other festivals.” She shook her head. “Your mother made a dangerous mistake; she fell in love and gave it all up. She’ll never get her status back while tied to your father.”

Was that how it would be for Verden and her? A sacrificing of power and status to be together? Would he give that up to be with her across the veil? Or would he expect her to live in Annwyn? Had she done enough to show him how life in the mortal world could be?

Taryn turned away from the decorating of the hall and crossed her arms. “She loves him and he loves her. She wouldn’t give up on him just to come back and spend centuries scratching and scheming her way to the top. Some things are more important than status.”

“You’re afflicted with your mother’s delicate heart. Best you keep it protected here and not tell too many people your ideas about love. Look around you. How many love matches do you see?”

Had she seen any, or were people here only getting together for status? “There is that woman, with the lower-ranked man.”

“That will fail eventually. She will tire of his social climbing. If she loved him, she wouldn’t care about lowering her status.” Sulia gave a dismissive flick of her hand. “Even the King didn’t marry for love; that’s why he has an interest in you. You marry for status and then take lovers. It’s all about business here. If you want love, you don’t find it at Court.”

But she had and now they were desperately trying to keep it secret. Best to shift the conversation from her to Sulia…besides Sulia liked talking about Sulia above all others.

“Is that what you’re looking for across the veil?”

“I don’t want love. I want power. I want Felan.” Sulia clenched her fist, her long white nails glistening.

Taryn felt the frown before she could stop it. “He has to marry a mortal.”

Everyone knew that. The fairy King, or Queen, had to bind a mortal’s soul to Annwyn to balance the magic. Their soul for the safety of every other mortal; in exchange they lost their mortal lifespan. Who would willingly make such a trade? Eyra hadn’t done it for love; she’d done it for power. She looked at Sulia, so pretty and pale, like cotton candy made of poison. When Sulia looked at Felan, she saw a chance to rule by proxy. Or perhaps rule…she was taking human lovers and possibly had royal blood.

Sulia was Felan’s enemy at Court. As soon as she thought it, she knew it to be truth and yet she had no proof, just suspicions.

“You are thinking like a mortal.” Sulia tapped her arm. “I will be his mistress. I will take the place of that blond fairy he is sometimes seen with. A low-level no one. He needs to aim higher.”

Right.

Surely if Felan were going to have a mistress, it would be with someone he loved, not another power-hungry fairy. Now didn’t seem like the best time to mention that, yet she knew she needed to warn Felan about Sulia. The woman was too…Taryn couldn’t put her finger on it.

She was sane, cold, and calculating, but there was a glimmer in her eyes like she wouldn’t let anyone get in her way and those that did would suffer.

“Ah, of course.” Taryn tried for a noncommittal smile.

“Felan requested you come to Court. You must know how his search for a bride goes.” Sulia hooked her arm with Taryn’s so she couldn’t pull away. She didn’t want anything to do with this woman’s scheming, yet it was already too late. It wasn’t friendship Sulia had wanted; she’d needed a spy, someone who Felan had known from the mortal world.

“He has said nothing to me.” That was the truth. Felan played his cards close to his chest and very carefully. He had to with people like Sulia around.

“Then maybe you need to spend some more time with him. Teach him some of your games. You owe me, Taryn.” Sulia’s nails pressed against her skin for a moment too long for it to be accidental.

Of that she was aware. And it was debt that would take far too long to repay. “I’m not sure the King would appreciate that.”

Sulia released her and spun to face her. “You’ll find a way. I need to know who she is and when he plans to bring her to Court.”

Taryn needed to find a way out of Court. But because of the power shift, she had to stay or risk death. Death was looking preferable. Yet even as she thought it, she knew she could never willingly place herself on the wrong side of the veil.

“If I hear anything, you will be the first to know.” So she would make damn sure she didn’t hear anything.

“I will be the only one you tell.” Then she smiled and her mood seemed to lighten instantly. “Come, we must see how the costumes are going. No doubt there will be some final adjustments.”

* * *

As dusk settled over the castle, Taryn could taste the change in the air. A sharp sense of expectation. Carefully she put lines of pale green just under her eyebrows and on her cheeks like the other women. The costumes were all in dark greens and browns, torn silks, feathers, and wooden beads, as if they had just stepped out of the forest. While some wore silk slippers, most had bare feet.

She dipped her fingers back into the paint and traced along her collarbone; then she put three slashes on each arm. The effect was a little like sexy jungle camouflage—until the lights went out. Then the paint began to glow.

Cheekbones and eyes were emphasized, as were the other lines marked on bodies. There were handprints on bare stomachs and glowing nipples peeking through fabric. Some had gone even further, the costumes quite see-through over the glowing body paint covering them. Oh God. The excitement of getting ready vanished in a flash, and she had the horrible feeling this midsummer party was an excuse for really bad behavior. If people put their keys in a bowl, she was going to hide in her room for the rest of the night.

She shivered and hoped she was getting ahead of herself. This was just a chance to dress up and have some fun. Did they know how to have fun or would they still be scheming and point scoring?

Led by the Queen, who wore a crown of leaves, they walked down the stairs. Taryn glanced at the hall. While she’d watched the decorations being placed in daylight, at night the transformation was total. The mushrooms were glowing as were the blue birds’ nests that had been strung up. The whole chamber was cast in soft light and shadows. A fairy glade ready to be inhabited by wild fae.

In the center of the hall was the King with a headdress of antlers; around him were the other men. Her heart clenched, but among the shadows and glowing body paint she couldn’t see Verden. He’d left Court yesterday; she’d heard that from Rhodia, who seemed to track his every move in and out of Court. But he had to be back for this, otherwise the Queen would be truly pissed. Eyra had been almost pleasant this afternoon. She’d smiled and joked with the other women as they’d gotten ready, accepted the praise for the costumes she’d had made and her brilliance in coming up with such an obscure theme. For the first time since her arrival, the frost had almost left the air.

Her feet touched the grassed floor. If it had looked amazing from above, from below the effect was stunning, like walking into another world. Like slipping back in time and becoming one of the wild fae Verden had talked about—the spriggands, the sylphs, and the dryads. The minstrels had their wooden pipes and delicate harps, but also little drums. The music was different, less constrained.

The King stepped forward and bowed to the Queen. She returned with a curtsy, her dress revealing a whole lot of leg amongst the rough, wide ribbons of silk. Then the King stepped back.

A man with a much smaller set of horns stepped forward to take the Queen’s hand. His chest was bare except for a painted spiral over his heart. His pants ended in rags just below his knees and around each bicep he wore a band of woven leaves and feathers. Verden. She bit her lip to keep the sigh from escaping, but her heart was pounding louder and faster than the drums. He looked so…so wild. A single line of glowing paint traced down his forehead to the end of his nose. Had he seen her?

No. His gaze was firmly on the Queen and no one else. As it should be. As they’d agreed. They weren’t together and couldn’t be until Felan took the throne. Until then, they had to wait. Maybe it wouldn’t last and all they had was sex in random places in the mortal world. Good sex, in amazing places. Her belly tightened as longing slid between her legs and lodged there. There would be no sneaking away tonight.

When the King stepped forward, she walked over and took his hand. Everyone else followed, one couple at a time as determined after the hunt. Small tables had been set up around the edges of the chamber, but the King’s usual table was still there, raised above everyone else so he could watch the goings-on.

“You look very pretty tonight.” The King kissed the back of her hand.

Where once she would have felt revulsion at the unwanted contact, now she sucked it up. She had to. She had to do everything right and pretend that she wasn’t in love with someone else or they were going to sink. Verden was right; they had gotten far too bold and careless far too quickly.

“And you look quite…” He did look good. Everyone did, as if they’d shed some of the weight and responsibility for just one night. “Wild and noble.” The antlers were truly amazing. Most of the men had horns of some kind and it took only a quick glance to realize that status was still denoted.

The King smiled. “Exactly what I was hoping for.”

There was no hint that he was still angry with her for asking him to pardon her father. But she also knew he would not back down; his pride wouldn’t let him. Is that what had happened with Eyra? One fight had turned toxic until neither of them would admit they were wrong and kiss and make up?

Tomorrow the worst would be over. She’d see her father and he’d take the offer. Her parents would be safe and she could start untangling herself from the King’s embrace.

They sat at the table. Tonight it was slightly different; instead of being full of the King’s council, there was Felan and his partner for the dance, Dylis, Eyra and Verden, who were talking about something and ignoring everyone else. Taryn tried to ignore the twisting of her heart. It was an act and nothing more. He loved her, and while she’d blamed the whiskey, she’d seen it in his eyes.

The rest of the table was made up of two of the highest ranking of the Council and their partners, one of which was Sulia, who had made sure she was seated on Felan’s other side. She wasn’t subtle, but then maybe that worked for her. Everyone was watching her actions and not what she was actually doing. If Felan was careful with his plots, Sulia was just as secretive.

Food was served by the shadows and a small tree was placed on each table.

The tree was the dinner. It was all totally edible. The servants had spent a lot of time putting it all together. Around the tree were little mushrooms of soft white cheese. From the tree hung berries; the leaves were candied pieces of apples. What she would have given for a little bacon—or any other meat. While many of the fairies here would be horrified at her eating dead flesh, she wondered how many crossed the veil for the occasional steak.

Like a good fairy she nibbled and drank her wine and laughed when expected. She kept her gaze to the safe end of the table, away from Verden. But he was in her thoughts. She wanted him, wanted to be able to celebrate with him and talk. Once her father was back, she’d get free of the King. Or maybe she wouldn’t have to, as Felan would step up sooner rather than later. Even she was now playing games and keeping her heart’s desires secret.

With a smile on her lips, she sipped her wine and glanced over the goblet at the King. “I look forward to my trip across the veil tomorrow.”

His expression didn’t change. “You seem assured your father will submit to the Court.”

She placed her hand over her heart. “I’m certain of his love for my mother and he wouldn’t wish her dead.”

He nodded, considering her carefully with his frost- tinged eyes. Did he see the winter in his gaze when he looked in the mirror? “A wager then?”

Ah, crap. “I’m not sure I can afford to gamble with you, sire.” Back away slowly and hope he doesn’t follow. She didn’t want to get tricked into debt with the King and be exiled. Is that what had happened to her father?

The King leaned his elbow on the table and looked at her. “You’ve been here long enough to learn the ways of the Court. My bed has been cold too long.”

Taryn forced herself to keep breathing and not freak out. Felan had said his father never did that, that while he favored women publicly, he was always alone privately. But if he was dying, was he hoping for one last fling? Why her?

She closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself not to look at Verden. He didn’t want to know. He just wanted it done so they could be together. She just wanted it done so they could leave this place once Felan was King. How long until that happened? She didn’t want this. She wanted to get free of the King, not fall deeper.

Taryn drew in a slow breath and opened her eyes. The King was watching. Had he seen her internal battle? Was it all a game to him to see what he could win? Of course it was. She was a mouse and he was a cat. He’d let her go when he was ready—unless she found a hole to slip through. That’s all she needed, a chance.

She could do this. She could make the bet and win. She was going to throw up. She swallowed and hoped she hadn’t turned as white as the mushrooms.

“What do you propose?” Her voice sounded totally level, as if she were in control. How fairy was she becoming? No, she didn’t want to be like these people. Yet with every breath she took here, the more like them she became.

“If you succeed in getting your father to take the offer of being a shadow servant, he gets his pardon and you are free to find another lover; if you fail, I get you until the end of my rule.” He leaned closer to her, his breath on her shoulder. “Not long at all really.” Then he leaned back to judge her reaction.

“Will you make him serve the year and a day?”

“No, full pardon, and they may return to Court—although I can’t guarantee status.”

Taryn nodded as if considering. It was too simple a deal. “What is the catch?”

The King gave a low laugh. “You do catch on quick. No mention of the deal we’re making or any part of it to your father.”

Okay. Which meant she couldn’t mention that he would get the pardon, only that he had to take the offer. Would he do that? He’d said he wanted to put things right before she’d left.

“One question. Why me? Of all the women here, why me?” Was it because it would piss the Queen off as had been suggested?

“You want something from me. It is only fair I get something from you. It is the way we work. Who is getting the better side of deal depends on where you sit.” He took another bite of food and looked at her, waiting for her answer.

He was never going to give away his real reasons. Maybe he had none and he was just enjoying what time he had left by screwing with other people’s minds.

She glanced at Felan, who’d brought her to Court, but couldn’t help her. He’d promised no harm would come to her parents, yet she knew he could do nothing to lift the exile.

Her gaze then slid to Verden and the Queen. She didn’t want to betray either of them, for very different reasons.

The King took in her glance. “You worry about the Queen.”

“With good reason.” The last woman to cross the Queen had become a shadow.

“Then I guess the question is how much do you trust your father to do the right thing?” The King wasn’t smiling now, and she realized she’d been cornered in a couple of clever lines.

All words died on her tongue. She’d thought she could come in here and play their games and win; instead she’d been caught. All she could do was hope and pray her father would do what was right this time and take the offer, thus saving her from the King’s attention.

“Of course I trust my father.” She knocked back the rest of the wine, glad that it wasn’t alcoholic but wishing that it was.

“So you accept?”

“I do.” She felt the weight settle around her, closing around her throat and choking her. A shadow refilled her goblet. She raised it in a toast to the King. “To tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” His goblet touched hers. “Don’t let anyone tell you that you aren’t as clever as your mother.”

That was supposed to be a compliment, but it didn’t feel like one. Had Arlea once sat here and made promises and deals with the King to get on his council? Had she been more conniving than Sulia? More power hungry than the Queen? Yet she’d given it all up for love.

Taryn had given up love for this. She couldn’t look at Verden in case her eyes revealed what she was feeling. She had to be a fairy capable of making deals that would kill a mortal or she wouldn’t survive.

When the King took her hand and led her to the dance floor, she was numb. If she’d had a soul, it would be dead. As it was, her heart was held together with the finest strands of hope, like cobwebs. She took a breath and straightened her shoulders as the music filled her blood. His hand landed on her hip as he spun her around, his feet easily catching the beat. Everyone was watching as the King started the dance. Everyone was already assuming the worst or the best, depending on who they were, about her place in his favor.

She could do this; the hardest part was done. She’d carved out her heart and made a deal with the King of Annwyn.

Tomorrow she’d be free. Hopefully.

Chapter 17

Verden tried not to watch as Taryn danced, but when he looked across the dance floor, she was there, her lithe body in the King’s hands instead of his. No matter how many times he told himself it was for the best, it felt wrong. It felt as though someone had shoved a sword dipped in the river of damned souls through his chest and was slowly watching the poison creep through his body until it killed him. Which it would. He couldn’t watch. He couldn’t even be in the same room without wanting to stand up and tear Taryn free of the King’s embrace.

But if he did, she’d hate him. She was doing this for her parents. She was a better daughter than he was a son. Maybe he didn’t deserve her. He couldn’t live in the mortal world and he’d have nothing to offer her in Annwyn once Felan was King.

Taryn didn’t care. He remembered her smiling in the moonlight. Her lips on his. His body responded to the remembered heat, but his heart ached. No wonder most Court fairies refused to let their hearts be taken. It hurt.

He wished he had stayed longer at his father’s house instead of racing back to Court for the festival. However, the scandal that would have caused wouldn’t be worth it. The Queen would have been livid, which meant the King would have also been annoyed, and the King and Queen needed to keep it together for a little longer.

All those years of going through the motions and doing what was expected paid off. Verden clamped down on his pain and offered the Queen his hand and danced with her as if he wanted to. If not for her most recent poor behavior, she wouldn’t be hanging on the King’s favor by her fingernails. They were all dancing to the whims of an aging King who was ready to throw down the crown and walk away.

Flashes of white body paint outlined limbs as people danced. A few women glowed from head to toe like diaphanous ghosts. If he were younger and less troubled, he might have found it tantalizing. The soft blue lighting cast everyone in shadows and luminescent highlights. It was hard not to feel the magic of midsummer and the changing of seasons in the air.

What had Taryn said?

While half the world turned toward winter, the other half turned toward summer. It was good to know that summer wouldn’t fade. That the world wouldn’t suffer a winter the way Annwyn would.

“You seem distracted.” The Queen tapped his arm in reprimand.

“Only by the beauty you have created. A magnificent display.” He truly meant it. He hadn’t seen such an extravagant festival in many a cycle. Was this the one she wanted to be remembered for? He glanced down into her dark blue eyes, but they were inky mirrors and revealed nothing.

“I would like a dance with my husband. Can you occupy his little tidbit?” She raised an eyebrow as if he weren’t up to the challenge.

“You want me to dance with her?” His pulse hammered hard, but he couldn’t reveal what that would mean to him, to be able to dance with Taryn in public.

Keep it polite and distant, he reminded himself.

Eyra pulled away from his hold. “That would be ideal.” Then she was gliding through the swarm of dancers.

Tonight there was no pleasant dance with set steps and pretty manners. There was gyrating and bodies getting flung high into the air and caught. He wanted to be part of that, to break out of the constraints and…and go wild. The festivals were where lust ran free, debts were paid, and prizes got claimed.

His gaze landed on Taryn. She and the King had stopped dancing; fabric clung to her skin in all the right places. With leaves braided into her dark hair, she looked like a nymph awoken from slumber and needing to feed. He would willingly fall at her feet and offer himself as her sacrifice if she would take away the ache that filled his heart every time he looked at her.

The luminescence above her eyes made her look exotic, while the markings on her collarbones drew his gaze down. The three stripes on each arm made her seem wild. Less was definitely more. While many women—and some men—appeared to have fallen into the body paint pot, on Taryn what wasn’t painted became more mysterious.

He took her hand and bowed like he would with anyone else and she did the same as if they were of equal rank. Were they now? Is that what she’d been discussing so intently with the King? The questions burned his lips, but he didn’t want to know. He’d rather not know the details, only that she’d get what she wanted, and he would be waiting. Hands linked, they circled as the music shifted to a slower, heavier drumbeat. Around them the dance shifted to something more sultry, more earthy. It was infectious, pulsing in his body and baying for blood.

She stepped closer, her lips parting. His hands skimmed down her torso to her hips; he dragged her close for a moment. Their bodies touched; her breath was on his neck. She smelled like a joy he could never hold on to. He let her go and she spun away, as if tempting him to chase and capture. She was already his; he wouldn’t let her go, even if they couldn’t be together right now. They would be together.

When he grasped her hand and drew her against him, her back to his chest, she didn’t resist. Was she putting on a show? He tore his gaze from her to scan the room, but everyone was involved in their own dancing—some had already moved to the shadowed grottoes created by the imported trees.

He would take what he could have tonight and be happy; he had at least had her in his arms and was doing nothing that others weren’t. He was being almost tame. His hand smoothed over her belly, across her hip; he jerked her closer so the curve of her butt pressed against his hardened shaft. He’d like nothing better than to drag her off somewhere private but they would be missed. He placed a kiss on her shoulder. His fingers laced with hers as he lifted her arm, then let his hand trail down and brush the curve of her breast. She bent her arm to run her fingers through his hair.

“I want you,” he murmured, not caring if she heard over the music and the sounds of other people dancing and fucking.

She turned in his arms. Her eyes were glittering as if full of stars. “Don’t make me want what I cannot have tonight.” But her hand was on his chest, her fingernails pressing against his skin.

He’d rather pain in his skin than his heart. “And tomorrow?”

Verden lifted her, then let her slide down his body. When her feet touched the ground, she broke the contact. She stalked around him, her hand smoothing across his bare back. He caught her as she swept past. With hands crossing their bodies, he danced a few formal steps to the much faster beat. She followed his lead as if accepting that he had won and she was his.

Only for the dance.

It was enough. For tonight.

She leaned back over his arm and he kissed her naval, before swooping her up. Her arms wrapped around his neck briefly before snapping away too fast for it to be part of the dance. Verden spun to see what had shocked her.

The Queen was clapping and by her side the King was still, as if carved in granite.

He drew away from Taryn and bowed to the royals and hoped that they had just enjoyed the dance and saw nothing more. His chest was heaving, his blood was hot, and his skin was like ice. The Queen’s glee was too much of a contrast to her husband’s empty face.

Without looking at Taryn, he walked away, and he could sense her doing the same, felt the distance between them. He was aware of her as she took a goblet from a shadow servant and tried to disappear into the darkness.

The King’s gaze fell on him, and he beckoned Verden forward with the smallest curve of his fingers. Dread swelled in his gut and he knew he’d stepped into a trap set by the Queen. He looked at her; a small smile turned the corners of her lips, the luminescent paint turning her face into a grimacing mask.

The sword in his heart twisted. She knew about him and Taryn.

Tonight had been all about him. The wild fae. Her asking him to dance with Taryn.

The Queen had proven to Gwyn that he couldn’t trust his Hunter or his mistress. What a fool he’d been. He should have paid more attention to the games and worried less about how much he wanted Taryn. Verden swallowed as he walked over, but already he could feel the river of the drowned souls closing over his head and smothering him. He should have been more careful.

He should have done a hundred things differently in those few short moments.

Now they were undone. Maybe.

Perhaps he could talk his way out of it. One dance at a festival meant nothing. He strolled over as if he’d done nothing wrong. But he had. Every time he’d taken Taryn across the veil, he’d broken the order that she remain in Annwyn; every time he’d kissed her, he’d known the King would be wounded if he thought his would-be mistress were with someone else. Every time he’d tried not to fall in love with her, he knew he was risking losing something most fairies couldn’t grasp. Few at Court could make the sacrifice required to love. Most married for privilege or power.

His father had been right. Court had nothing to offer the heart, but he’d been too young to appreciate the words.

The King looked at him as if he’d just crawled out from under a toadstool. “You danced well.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He inclined his head. Please just let this go; let us all walk away and be sane in the morning. Then he’d try and keep it all in again and try not to think of what was going on when he closed his eyes to sleep.

“I think you enjoyed it far more than me. You seem to know her far better than me. How is that?”

Verden lifted his gaze and met the King’s pale, unflinching stare. There was no friendship left between them and the loyalty was stretched tenuously fine. If Gwyn did anything to hurt Taryn, there would be reparation to be made.

“Answer me.”

He wouldn’t lie but he wasn’t going to condemn himself or Taryn either. “I’ve seen her at Court.”

Gwyn placed his hand on Verden’s shoulder as if he were just talking; around them the party continued as if nothing were amiss. Damn the Queen and her jealousy. If she’d let it ride out, they could have all walked away with scratches instead of cuts.

The King’s fingers wrapped around the back of his neck and their fake horns clashed. “How long have you been bedding her?”

“She is your mistress. What we did meant nothing. It happened before your intents were clear.” It sounded like hollow excuses even in his ears.

“You think I’m a fool? I know what you’re like. I watched as you clawed your way to the top. I admired that you always put so much on the line. But you’ve crossed too many today.”

Verden turned his head and used his horns to push back and make breathing space. Sweat was cooling on his skin, chilling him. “Does it matter what happens when the leaves fall around us? We play and party but winter draws closer. Let it go.”

“You are telling me to let it go?” The King tossed his head, and the antlers caught Verden on the cheek.

Verden stepped back. He used the back of his hand to wipe his cheek. It came away slick and covered in blue blood. Now they had an audience.

“You’ve claimed first blood. I’ll walk away.” He kept his voice low to stop others from overhearing. It was bad enough that they watched with interest.

“No, you struck the first blow.” He pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head as if the antlers weighed too much. “You betrayed me. Now you will pay.”

Verden lowered his gaze to the floor. “What do you desire, sire?”

The King was silent. Verden counted his heartbeats while he waited. Three…five…eight. He wanted to look up, but didn’t.

“I want a hunt. Winner keeps the prize.”

Verden risked looking up. “Sire?”

What exactly did he mean by hunt?

“Taryn will be the doe. Whoever catches her keeps her.”

While time moved differently in Annwyn than the mortal world, Verden was sure it slowed just around him. He glanced at the Queen, who hadn’t looked this happy in too long. He caught Felan’s gaze, but the Prince looked away. Held by the Prince was Taryn. He couldn’t read her expression in the dim light, but Felan was doing his best to keep her from making this worse. He could see Felan’s lips moving but couldn’t understand the words.

Worse. How much worse could this get? The King wanted to turn Taryn into a doe and then hunt her down. “I will not shoot her.”

“Then you will lose. But you will hunt at my side one last time, Lord Verden.”

Chapter 18

Taryn tried to get free of Felan’s grasp. Dark blood was trickling from a wound on Verden’s cheek. She knew the King and Verden were arguing about her, but she couldn’t hear the words. They were keeping the dispute private even though most had now stopped to watch.

“Keep still if you know what is good for you,” Felan muttered near her ear.

In truth, she didn’t know what she was going to do if she did get free. Run to Verden? No, that would look bad. Go to the King’s side? That is what she should do. But she knew her feet wouldn’t be able to move.

She should never have danced with Verden. Even now her heart was beating too fast and her skin was hot from his touch. She needed him. She loved him.

“What is going on?”

“He saw you dancing with Verden and worked out what is going on.”

“We broke up.”

“You didn’t look very broken up while dancing. It doesn’t pay to be careless at Court.”

She turned to face the Prince. “It was one dance.”

“It was more than a dance. When you were with him…” Felan shook his head. “I’m not blind and neither is my father.”

The King lifted his head to face the crowd. “There will be a hunt tomorrow in the mortal world to settle the dispute. I will not let it spoil the festivities of midsummer.” He flicked his hand and everyone turned away, not wanting to be caught looking after being dismissed.

But she could hear the whisperings.

People glanced her way. Did they know what the argument was about?

The King took his seat and then beckoned her forward. She shook herself free of Felan.

Felan grabbed her hand. “I can only help you so much now. Be careful. His temper is frayed.” Then he released her arm and followed at a distance.

Was he her ally or protecting his own interests in her father? She had to look after herself.

Taryn sat down next to the King as if nothing had happened, but the tension coiled around her and all of the humor in his eyes was gone. He looked cold and calculating and alien.

“You made me a deal with me. Did you intend to honor it?”

“Yes, sire.” She bowed her head. She would have kept her word even if it killed her. A fairy’s word was good—if it wasn’t, they quickly found themselves out of favor and out of Annwyn.

“Would you have been faithful to me?” He asked, his hand slapping on the table.

“Of course, sire.” But in her heart, she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. “I made the deal in good faith.”

“We shall see what color your faith is tomorrow.” He nodded to Felan to approach. “Taryn will be the doe in tomorrow’s hunt.”

“What?” She must have misheard. They weren’t actually going to turn her into an animal. Were they?

“You are the prize to settle the dispute. A deer is the traditional animal.” The King smiled and it was all winter and knives.

“That’s barbaric. You can’t turn me into an animal and hunt me.” Could he? Did he have that much power that he could turn her into an animal?

“I can and I will. The decision is made.”

“But I’ll get hurt.” How could he think this was in anyway a good idea to settle this?

The King shrugged. “Such is the price to be paid.”

That was her part of the punishment. Her stomach twisted and turned to water. “What about our deal?” She’d been so close to having everything she wanted. Her father’s pardon, freedom from the King’s interest, and she’d fucked it all with one stupid dance. A dance she wanted to relive again and again.

He glared at her. “It can wait until after. I will not have the Hunter preying on what is mine.”

She bristled. She was no man’s property to be claimed and protected. “I’m not yours. I’m not anyone’s.”

“You accepted a seat at my side, my hand for the dance. When the King of Annwyn extends you that honor, you do not bite that hand by then accepting the favor of the Hunter.” He leaned closer, the antlers dangerously close to her face, and lowered his voice. “Just because you weren’t in my bed doesn’t mean you weren’t fulfilling the role of mistress.” He leaned back in his seat. “And even if you win our little wager, that doesn’t mean you won’t continue fulfilling those duties until I am relieved of my crown.”

She’d expected there to be an edge of bitterness, but there was none. It sounded almost like relief. Was he just waiting for all this to be over? Then why continue the charade and put her through hell? She glanced at Felan. Because he wasn’t ready. He had no human wife and no heir. Damn them all. But if Annwyn fell, there would be no mortal world—at least not as she knew it.

Felan bowed. “Would you like me to help in any way?”

The King glanced at her. “Escort Lady Taryn to her chambers and confine her there until the hunt. I wouldn’t want the quarry slipping out of Annwyn.”

She opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. At least if she were in her room, she couldn’t get herself into any more trouble. As she left the hall on Felan’s arm, she gave it one final glance. A beautiful, alien party. No matter how hard she tried, she’d never fit in; she was a human in fairy skin.

“I’m going to die tomorrow.”

“No you won’t. One arrow wound won’t kill you.”

“You know this from experience?”

“I’ve witnessed a similar hunt before.”

Taryn raised her eyebrow. “Swear to me that you will make sure I live.”

“You will not die. If my father wanted you dead, he’d throw you in the river or simply exile you to await death with your parents.”

Her heart clenched. She had failed her parents; her father wouldn’t get his pardon and everything had been for nothing. She’d fallen for the one man who could destroy her and he had—not with hate, but love, and that hurt worst of all. “I was so close.”

“I know.” He voice was strained. “You still are. This is a small delay.”

It didn’t feel very small, and neither of them could afford the delay. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize when you don’t mean it.”

They walked up the stairs, the festival still going. People danced and the King sat alone at the table. The most powerful man alive in any world and he was also the loneliest. She glanced at Felan. Human women would fall over themselves to be with him, but would they want him if they knew what they were coming to and what was expected of them? When they realized Sulia wanted to get her claws into the Prince?

“How will a human woman ever get used to this? I’m fairy and I hate it.” And yet on the surface it was so pretty; unfortunately, she didn’t have to scratch too deep to see the ugly reality.

Felan didn’t answer straight away. He was staring down at the party. “There will be changes. Somehow we have lost our way and the Court has become corrupt. In part I blame my mother. She thrived on the hostilities and the plotting scheming. Kill or be killed.”

For a moment Taryn said nothing, but if Sulia had her way, everything would continue as it was. “Change would be good, but there are some who seek to keep things the same.”

He glanced at her. “You have news for me?”

Taryn looked at the party but couldn’t see Verden. Did he blame her? He was as much at fault. She needed to speak with him but knew that was impossible.

“Sulia longs to be your mistress.”

Felan nodded. “I know. I let her think I am partial toward her without ever committing. I would have to count my fingers after leaving her chamber.”

She was sure that was supposed to be a joke, but Taryn couldn’t laugh. She pitied the woman who had to sacrifice her soul to keep the magic of Annwyn alive. “You will break your wife’s heart.”

“No I won’t. Not again.”

Taryn was tempted to ask more, but from the set of his face, it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. “Sulia also wanted to know who you are seeing and when you plan to wed.”

Felan cursed in a language she’d never heard. “You side with her?”

“No, which is why I’m also telling you this. She is crossing the veil…I think to get pregnant.”

She’d never seen the Prince anything but in control. But beneath his luminescent paint, he blanched. “She told you this?”

“Hinted.”

“It could be a trick to see if you would tell. If you did, she will be expecting me to react.” As he spoke, she could see a thousand thoughts flickering past his eyes, as if he was trying to work out every possible play and outcome. “Curse her to the river.”

If he was worried, should she be terrified? What was Sulia planning? “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Retire to your chambers and prepare for tomorrow. I will get you at dawn.” He called over a couple of shadow servants. “Don’t try to leave. Please, try not to piss my father off again.”

She smiled at his choice of words. “It wasn’t deliberate.”

“I know, but every upset steals time I don’t have to spare.” He held aside her curtain so she could step inside. “Rest. It will be a long day.”

Then she was alone. For a moment she couldn’t move. She didn’t know what to do. Tears formed and she pressed her palms over her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry. Not yet. Then when? How bad did things have to get? The paint on her face smudged onto her wet hands. She needed to clean up, to remove all signs of the dance even though she wanted to hold on to it.

Verden with his horns, his body hard against hers and the whisper in her ear. She bit her lip. Had he known that they were being watched? No. She’d seen the shock on his face before it was masked. The Queen had set them up.

At least she wasn’t being turned into a shadow servant.

Because being turned into a doe and being hunted was so much better.

She shook her head. Felan wouldn’t let her die. But the King had made promises too. If Verden won her, would he keep them? She didn’t know what she wanted. She just wanted it over. She drew in a shaky breath. Felan had a Queen in mind. There wasn’t long to go.

She cleaned off the paint and took the leaves out of her hair and changed into pajamas, a reminder of her life in the mortal world. She sniffed the fabric and tried to remember what it was like to make herself tiny and be a Brownie in the changeling’s house, sleeping on the sofa or watching TV until late. Her life had been so simple.

She lay on the bed and listened to the music and noise of the party, voices and the stamping of feet. She didn’t want to be there if Verden wasn’t there. Was he also under house arrest? She curled into a ball and tried not to imagine dying with an arrow through her heart.

Chapter 19

“I’ve never actually done this before.” Felan held a knife in one hand and a small carved deer in the other.

Taryn shivered even though it wasn’t that cold. She’d been to Ireland twice now. The first time had definitely been better. “Then don’t do it.”

He looked at her. “What would you have me do, lie? How do you think that would play out? You hide in the forest and then, when no deer is caught, the King will order the hounds and they will find you and then he will realize you are still fairy. I’d say any chance of getting your father’s pardon will be gone then. Any chance you and Verden had of getting out of this would be gone.”

She swallowed. “This isn’t right. It’s not how grievances are settled.”

“It is in Annwyn. You are playing by Annwyn’s laws, not mortal ones. My father needs to save face, and my mother is trying to dismantle his rule.” He shook his head. “And I don’t have time for either of their games.” He closed his eyes for a couple heartbeats.

She thought about running. How far could she get? But he was right. She could run, but she would be found. Or she’d be left to die on this side of the veil. “Why do fairies die if they are caught in the mortal world during the power shift?”

The Prince opened his eyes; he looked tired. Had he even slept last night? “Because for a moment Annwyn dies.”

“Greys survive without the magic of Annwyn.” She was using the word survive loosely because a being banished from Annwyn was really just a slow death. It was the most severe punishment a fairy could get. Most would rather a quick death in the river.

“I’ve heard it’s like having your heart ripped out the moment Annwyn dies. For those in Annwyn, they recover as the magic is restored, but the restoration comes too late for those in the mortal world. Greys, on the other hand, suffer a slow bleeding out of the magic they once had. The death of Annwyn doesn’t change that.”

“So a Grey could live for a very long time.”

“If they didn’t use magic, but most can’t help themselves. I will not make you a Grey. That will help no one.”

“It won’t help you.”

He shrugged. “I want your father back; you want your family safe. We aren’t at cross-purposes. We never have been.”

“You used me.”

“I have Annwyn to protect from the likes of Sulia. I will do whatever it takes.” There was steel in his voice. “You play your part and we might still be able to steal the win from my mother.” He held out the deer. It looked like it was carved from bone.

She hesitated. If she took it would she change? “Will it hurt?”

“I don’t know.”

“What happened to the last person?”

“His fur was black. Both refused to hunt him. He died a deer.”

Her stomach turned. “Don’t let me die a deer.”

“Then pray your fur is white. Which means your word was true.”

“My word was true, but I can’t help what my heart wants.”

“None of us can.” He placed the deer in her hand. It was warm, from being held. Patches of the bone were stained dark. “Good luck.”

She lifted her gaze from the bone deer to Felan. “Who do you want to win me?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure it matters when the result will be the same.” He lifted her other hand and pressed the tip of the knife to her finger.

“What do you mean?” she said as a single drop of blue blood formed, then fell onto the bone deer.

The world shimmered and vanished. When she blinked, everything smelled funny. She skittered away from the man, watched him for a moment as he bent down and picked things up, then instinct told her he was dangerous and to run. So she ran.

* * *

Verden was sure that the chill in the air of Annwyn was more than his imagination. Had the King and Queen had words after the party? He touched his cheek, aware the flesh was still tender and the wound still raw. Along with his pride.

He’d screwed up as Taryn would say and let the midsummer festival get the better of him. Whatever had happened after the party, summer was gone and Annwyn was well into autumn. Gold and orange leaves fell as he walked toward the tree that held the weapons.

The Queen was already there, alone for a change. The bitch who’d plotted to bring him down. He didn’t bother faking a smile. There was no point any longer.

“What do you want?” He looked her in the eye. He would not bow and offer fake courtesy.

“I’m here to wish my husband well.”

Verden snorted. “Really? I thought you’d want him to lose so Lady Taryn is out of the way.”

The Queen walked around him, her hand on his sleeve. Verden turned to keep his gaze on her.

“I want him to win and her to be in his arms. I want you to fail and sleep each night knowing that she is lost to you the way my lover is now lost to me.”

“I had nothing to do with the death of Shea.”

“You are the Hunter. You are my husband’s eyes and ears and hands. You do what he can’t.” She released him. “No longer. You have kept your title for too long. A farmer’s son, a nobody. Now you will learn your place.”

“Annwyn needs a Hunter. Even if I fall, Gwyn will choose another.”

“And who would be Hunter for what’s left? I know his time is drawing to an end. I smell the frost. No. There will be no new Hunter and Gwyn will be off the throne.”

Verden narrowed his eyes. She hadn’t said until Felan is King. “I’m sure Felan has picked his Hunter and Council already.”

The Queen laughed. “Fool. I don’t know why Gwyn has favored you for so long.”

“Because my loyalty has been unwavering. Unlike yours.”

“Enjoy your final hunt, Verden.” The Queen deliberately dropped his title and didn’t use his full name. She turned away and faced the two men approaching. Gwyn and Felan.

Verden pulled open the weapons store’s door and started gathering the bows and arrows needed for today’s hunt. His hand shook as he reached for the weapons. How was he going to do this?

While he hadn’t restocked the store after the last hunt, he was sure that there had been more arrows. Still there was more than enough for today. All it would take was one. A dog whined at his feet. Eager to hunt or aware they were about to lose their master? He gave it a scratch between the ears. The animals he was going to miss the most. They’d never lied or tried to cheat him, and their hearts were always open instead of being rigidly guarded.

The royal family was talking, their words soft and muffled. For a moment Verden considered closing the store and remaining in the tree. But he’d never been one to hide. He’d always taken the gamble and played the game. Today he didn’t know how to win. There was too much at stake. The Queen had found his weakness and pushed the blade deep.

He clenched and unclenched his hands, then picked up two bows and two quivers of arrows. The dog followed him out of the tree. Conversation stopped as he shut the door and locked it.

Felan gave him a nod, but he was only here as a witness to the hunt. Nothing more. He wouldn’t help or hinder. That was the role that Verden had previously taken when grudges needed to be settled by hunting—but none had ever involved hunting human or fairy quarry. And he’d never expected to find himself on the other end of the King’s judgment.

He offered the weapons to Felan, who checked that both bows were in working order and then let his father choose first before handing the other one back to Verden. Felan then repeated the action with the quiver of arrows.

The dog pawed at the ground and whined again. Verden ignored it this time. They wouldn’t listen to him for much longer.

The Queen smiled. “Happy hunting.” Then she walked away.

It was so tempting to notch an arrow and shoot her in the back. But if she died, Annwyn would instantly succumb to winter. Felan wouldn’t want that. Verden didn’t want that. No fairy, or mortal, did.

The King watched her leave. “You let her win, Verden. I am disappointed you fell for her play.”

“I didn’t see her game.” He hadn’t seen anything except Taryn.

“You let yourself be blinded.”

“So demote me now and be done with it.” He wanted this over. He didn’t want to have to go through with this. Couldn’t they just pick up swords and fight to first blood or something equally civilized? This was a throwback to old law, ancient law so lost in time he’d only heard whisperings of it happening. The Court needed to start writing down laws.

“I don’t want to strip you of your rank even though you betrayed me. That will come soon enough.” He glanced at Felan, who kept his face almost blank. The thin press of his lips was all that gave away his concern. “I want you to know what it feels like to be damned no matter what choice you make.”

He wanted her, wanted to prove to the King she was his. Yet he knew Taryn wouldn’t want that. She needed him to fail, so she could finish what she’d started. Plus he knew if he shot her, he’d never be able to look her in the eye again. He’d been up all night trying to work out what to do. The only viable option was for him to throw the hunt. The King would save face and everything would go on for a little while at least.

“Was there not another way to settle this?”

The King looked at him. “I still rule. Maybe you forget that. Maybe I let you have too much freedom because I trusted you too much.”

“I have never betrayed you in anything but this.”

“It was enough. It was public.”

“She will never look at us the same if we do this.” His voice was quiet, as if he were already defeated. That was the wrong attitude to go in with, but a tiny part of him still believed he could reason with the King and make him change his mind. That it wasn’t too late.

“She has already been turned into a doe and set free, only the piercing of an arrow will return her to fairy.” Felan looked at both of them. “Both of you acted foolishly. Whatever comes from this you brought on yourselves. It’s a pity you dragged an innocent into this.”

“She’s no innocent,” the King snapped.

“She was to the ways of Annwyn and Court. I invited her here and you both trampled on that invitation.” Felan was sounding more like a King and less like a loyal son.

Father and son glared at each other, the tension clear. While Verden had once envied Felan and his automatic rank, now Verden was glad he could walk away from Annwyn and everything it entailed. He’d achieved his dream and it had soured on his tongue.

“You invited her but did nothing to shield her from the wolves who sought to use her naïveté.” Gwyn looked pointedly at Verden, as if he had committed an offense. Maybe he had; he’d made the great error of letting his heart become involved.

“A mistake I won’t make again.” Felan uncrossed his arms. “I have other things to do today. Are you both ready?”

“Let’s get this done.” Verden shouldered his bow.

The men marched through the woods; never had there been a grimmer hunting party. Even the hounds were behaving oddly. Was the changing of season getting to them?

After some time, Gwyn spoke. “What color doe is Taryn?”

“Her fur is white.” Felan almost spat the word.

White. Verden suppressed a smile. At least Taryn had nothing to be accountable for. If she’d been tan or, worse, black, there would have been more questions asked. White meant her word was true. Whatever deal she’d made with the King, she’d intended to keep. That took any budding smile from off his lips. What had she agreed to before he’d danced with her and ruined everything? He risked a glance at Gwyn, but the King was looking straight ahead, his lips a thin, straight line, his face unreadable.

They stop at a doorway made of two rocky cairns no higher than his knee.

“Where did you take her?”

“The wilds of Ireland. That was the last place this ritual was carried out. I was just a child.”

The King grunted his agreement, then stepped through the doorway and across the veil.

* * *

The white doe shivered and lifted her head as if sensing a change on the air, a shimmer of magic on the summer breeze. Her delicate legs began to tremble. Magic meant danger. But she didn’t know why, only that she needed to run. Her stride was awkward, as if she’d never used the legs before. She stumbled and tripped, not sure why everything felt wrong and muddled. She needed to remember.

What did she need to remember?

She slowed to a walk as she tried to understand the images flitting through her head. Too many didn’t make sense. The smells of the forest overwhelmed. There was too much strangeness and nothing was familiar.

Remember who you are.

But she didn’t know who she was.

A dog barked and was joined by another. She knew that the thrumming in her chest was fear, and it gave her legs the power and coordination they needed to run.

Faster, faster, her heart pounded out the rhythm of her run.

Faster, faster, don’t let them get you.

Who was coming to get her?

She didn’t have time to remember or think; she had to run.

Faster, faster. Over rocks and weaving through the oak trees, leaping ferns and moss-covered rocks. On one side white flashed in the undergrowth. She paused at the sight of the white hound with red ears; a memory tugged, but she couldn’t stop and examine it. The dog barked and ran toward her. She darted away, changing course. In the distance a river bubbled. She didn’t want to get caught by the water. Rivers were bad; again a memory pulled and threatened to slow her.

Another hound cut her off. Its tail wagged as if in greeting. The doe took a step back. Were they friend or foe? The dog tilted its head and ginned at her, its tongue lolling out of its mouth. The dog yipped at her and bounced on its paws as if asking her to play and follow; when she didn’t move, it did it again. She took a hesitant step forward.

The other dog rubbed against her legs and gazed up at her.

Something wasn’t right.

She should fear the dogs and yet she knew them; she’d seen them before. How was that possible when she recognized nothing here? The doe lowered her head and nuzzled the dog. It smelled familiar, of someone familiar, someone she trusted and loved. Thoughts began to reassemble. A man in other forests.

A voice shattered her concentration and the memory was lost. All she smelled were dog, earth, and leaves.

Through the trees she saw two men, both raised their weapons. Her memories couldn’t be trusted. She couldn’t trust anyone.

Run, her heart urged. She turned to flee, the hounds at her heels as if they were protecting her from the men. Faster, faster.

Chapter 20

Verden didn’t pause to look at the forest, but he felt it around him, bristling with life and magic. The old plants, oak and holly, birch and rowan all growing together. That is why this place called the wild fae and old magic. Again they were here watching and listening as the three men chased after the white doe.

How much of Taryn was in there? He leaped onto a fallen tree and sighted along the arrow, one heartbeat, two. A dog ran between him and the shot and she moved, running again. Racing away. He’d missed a chance to claim her. He could have turned her back to fairy. But he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her. Yet someone had to or she would spend the rest of her days as a deer.

He glanced at Gwyn then Felan. He’d never seen the Prince quite so—not angry. This was too controlled—cold fury. The worst bit was the Prince was right. The feud between him and Gwyn shouldn’t have happened, not now when Annwyn needed stability.

Curse it all to the river and himself with it.

“Did you tell her she needed to be shot to return to being fairy?” He jumped down and followed the King, who was now in the lead. Flashes of white slipped between the trees. She was racing downhill with his hounds. Even they had sided with Taryn.

“Yes.” Felan didn’t look at him; he just kept moving. “Are you trying to lose her?”

Verden sighted again, but it was a dog—were they deliberately running interference for her? Protecting her?

“I lose either way. So does it matter?”

“It matters why you choose to lose.” Felan scrambled down a rocky bank and swung around a tree.

Verden knew he had to pick up his pace or he would have no chance of winning. If shooting the woman he loved could be called winning.

“I want her to win. I don’t want her to be mine just because of some stupid hunt.”

“It’s a sacred hunt.” Felan glanced at him as he jumped ahead. “But stupid.”

Verden dropped to his knee, arrow notched. She was moving but he had a shot. He tried to breath but couldn’t.

The snap of a bowstring broke the quiet. Not his bowstring. The King had made the shot. Would the arrow fly true? An arrow flew through the air and scored the doe’s flank before embedding in the tree behind her. Blue blossomed on white fur. Then she shimmered, becoming fairy again.

Verden let relief wash over him. The hunt was over. He’d failed, but she was fairy again. He lowered his bow and watched as Felan covered the distance and threw his cloak around her naked body. However, instead of standing and being furious at him like Verden expected, she collapsed.

Verden dropped his bow and ran to her.

“Taryn.” He touched her cheek, kissed her lips, willing her to wake. Nothing and no one would stop him from loving her. “What’s wrong with her?” He clasped her hand, not caring that he’d lost the right to be with her. She was his in his heart, as he was hers. “Love?”

Felan peeled back his cloak. The wound hadn’t healed when she’d changed. It still bled freely, and the edges of the wound were black, as if her flesh were dying. The two men looked at each other. Taryn was dying. The hounds growled and barked the way they had at the weapons store. The arrows.

“You lost, Hunter, get away.” The King had slung his bow over his should and made his way casually down. “Or does your word mean nothing?”

Verden stood. “My word? What have you done? What poison have you tainted her with?” He shoved the King backward.

The King stumbled, his eyes cold. Verden didn’t wait for him to regain his balance. He grabbed the King’s fine clothing, fisting the cloth, and pressed him against the nearest tree. Anger and fear surged in his blood. “What have you done to her?” He didn’t recognize his voice; it was cracked and rough.

“Unhand me.” The King placed his hand over Verden’s. His voice was calm, and his gaze level as if he thought fighting was beneath him. “I have done nothing but use the arrows you supplied.”

“Me? You think I would kill the woman I love?” Verden released him, disgusted that the man he’d once called friend could even think that.

A flicker of something crossed the King’s face. When he didn’t speak, Verden turned to Taryn, now cradled in Felan’s arms.

“She needs to go back to Annwyn. Now. While there is a chance to save her.” Felan stood.

“I’ll take her.” Verden reached for her.

“You won’t be taking her anywhere.” The King put his hand on Verden’s arm.

“She is dying and you want to bicker?” What was wrong with Gwyn?

“You failed to check the weapons. You attacked me. You are remaining here.”

“No.” Verden shrugged off his grip and walked on, following Felan back to the doorway. “Your wife poisoned the arrows.”

“You have no proof, Verden.”

The use of his name stopped him. He faced the King again. “People have been convicted on less. Nothing would please her more than Taryn’s death.”

“Shall I add treason to your charges?” The King crossed his arms. “Shall I get Felan to stop walking so we can argue? I care not if she lives or dies.”

“You bastard.” His hands curled into fists, but he kept them by his side. “Was she ever anything more than a charming distraction to you?”

“Stop, Verden.” Felan turned around, Taryn limp and pale in the Prince’s arms. “The arrow had been dipped in the river of the damned. Knowing my mother, they were all tainted, so no matter who shot her the result would be the same.”

“I’m not leaving her side. I made that mistake once already.” They should never have broken up.

“It’s not your choice right now. The King will not let you cross the veil.”

“I love her.”

“Trust me when I say I understand and that it’s the worst feeling ever to walk away. But if you want her to live and for there to still be a chance, obey.”

Verden clenched his teeth and looked at the Prince. The mask of the gambler he’d worn was gone and he saw the true face of the Prince. All that time spent in the hall playing games he was gathering information and making alliances and deals without anyone realizing what he held in his hand.

“What is it to be, Verden? Will you condemn her with you?” The King crossed his arms.

Verden placed a last kiss on her cool lips. His heart clenched and cracked. He couldn’t breathe. He’d do anything so see her smile…anything to hear her rail at him for ruining everything at the dance. “Save her.” But again, his voice wasn’t his own; it was too fragile and broken. He watched as Felan and Taryn crossed the veil to Annwyn.

Slowly he turned to face the King he’d once served loyally, willingly. Now all he wanted was to be free of the lot of them. “You want me gone, never to set foot in Annwyn again. Fine. I won’t.” He’d do whatever was asked if only she’d live.

The King shook his head. “The damage has been done. You have overstepped and overstepped again. The one person I should’ve have been able to trust betrayed me, attacked me. You can’t be my Hunter.”

“The Queen poisoned Taryn, and you were using her for your own amusement. What would you have me do?”

“Obey me, trust me the way you once did. I will always do what is right for Annwyn.”

None of this was right. Verden drew in a breath heavy with the scent of earth and leaves. Alive in a way Annwyn never could be. That he would never be again if Taryn died. He knew what was coming. If he was no longer the Hunter, Gwyn had to make sure he stayed on this side of the veil. He was damned. “You play right into the Queen’s hands.”

“I have my own game to play. When you danced with Taryn, I couldn’t save you. You weren’t watching the game. You played into her hands.” Gwyn looked disappointed. “I expected more.”

“More? I have nothing left to give. Annwyn has bled me dry. Just get it over with and free me.”

The King stepped closer. “What happened to the man who climbed so high so fast and was so full of ambition?”

“He got to the top and realized the view wasn’t worth it.” He could slit the King’s throat and be done with it. But that would plunge the Court into turmoil, Annwyn into a long winter as the throne was fought for, and doom the mortal world that was already struggling as death broke free of the river. He stayed his hand. There was more at stake than his wounded heart.

Gwyn gave a brief smile that held no joy. “Try sitting up there day after day after day. You are right about my wife. I will deal with her. But I’m going to need a new Hunter to ruin her game. Who can I give that role to when the end of my rule is so close?”

“Why not let me finish the job?” It was a long shot but it made sense. No one else would want the job when the end of Gwyn’s rule was so close.

“No. You will not cross the veil to Annwyn again under my rule. I cannot afford weakness or Felan will be under threat. Perhaps Taryn could do the job. She has no plans to remain at Court after the power shift?”

Verden shook his head. “You would make her Lady of the Hunt?”

“Why not?”

It also had the advantage of binding her closer to Annwyn and the King—and further from Verden. Age might have made him weary, but the King was still sharp as a knife and twice as dangerous.

“I’m sure she would be honored—if she lives.” His voice was more of a snarl and he couldn’t bring himself to bow and smile as he should. He wouldn’t get to be with Taryn again until Felan was King, assuming Gwyn banished him. If the King exiled him, Verden would be dead as soon as Felan took the throne. Either way he was losing Taryn and he could do nothing.

“It should never have come to this. You should have come to me. You should have told me what you felt for Taryn. Now I have lost my only friend, a loyal subject, and must find my wife guilty of attempted murder.” The King placed his hand on Verden’s chest, over his heart, and Verden braced for what was coming. He didn’t know which punishment to hope for. “Verden ap Hollis ap Lorcyn you are hereby relieved of your title of Hunter of Annwyn and banished until I, or whomever is King, sees fit to restore you or until you waste away.” Gwyn removed the Hunter’s sword and stepped back.

Banishment. Verden felt the loss immediately. The magic of Annwyn that had flowed in his blood since he was born was gone. He had become a Grey, the lowest of all fairies. What was usually the worst punishment was now a blessing. There was a chance Felan would restore him, yet it brought him no joy.

He was empty yet heavy, as if weighed down by the grief that he could never see Taryn again unless she crossed into the mortal world. How long did have before he started wasting? Weeks? Months? Years if he used no magic? What if Felan did nothing, or worse, what if Felan failed and someone else claimed Annwyn? There were many who’d revel in his fall. How could he expect Taryn to be happy with a Grey?

He’d well and truly lost her. It had been her that had made him feel alive even as Annwyn died. In her arms he’d never had to scheme and plot and aim higher or fight harder to stay where he was. She’d given him a measure of peace and joy he’d never found anywhere else and he’d let it go.

“Does it hurt?” The King looked at him with concern, as if he were struggling to give up the friendship they’d once had.

“No. I feel nothing.”

Chapter 21

Taryn woke as if she were being dragged from the bottom of the ocean and had to fight her way to the surface. It would be all too easy to slide back to blissful unconsciousness. She blinked and blinked again to focus her eyes. She had no idea where she was. Not at home in Charleston or in her chamber in Annwyn. But she was in Annwyn. The ceiling was a tangle of branches and orange leaves, and draped around the bed were dark silks. She pushed up onto her elbow and her left side burned as if someone were tearing at her flesh.

“Ah.” She lay down and pressed her hand to her side only to discover a fresh wound.

“Don’t move. You are still healing.” Felan sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re lucky to be alive. I cleaned the poison from your wound.”

Poison?

“What happened?” The last she remembered, Felan had taken her to Ireland and had turned her into a deer. Then the details became sketchy.

Felan didn’t answer. He pushed another couple cushions under her head and back, so she could sit up without hurting herself any further. Then he offered her what looked like an ancient horn. “Drink.”

It was an ancient drinking horn, complete with a leather loop for attaching to a belt. Even before she touched it she could feel the magic. Inside was water. She turned her head away before she could drink. No one in Annwyn drank water.

“The water is safe. This is the Cup of Life and the only way to cure a brush with the river of the damned.”

Taryn looked at him, not sure she was understanding half of what he was saying. The cup of life was a ye olde horn that had seen better days. Then she caught up with the rest of what he’d said.

“Someone poisoned me with the river?” She closed her eyes as images from the hunt returned. She remembered running from Verden, the King, and Felan, the hounds at her side urging her on as if they didn’t want her to be caught. “The dogs knew.”

“The dogs knew what?”

“The arrows were poisoned.” She opened her eyes. Someone had shot her. Her heart skipped a beat. “Who shot me?” Who had claimed her?

For an answer, Felan held the cup out. “Just drink. It will heal the wound and you will need your strength.”

“Oh God.” She was going to be sick. The King had won. “Where is Verden?”

“The Queen has been arrested and confined to her quarters for poisoning the arrows. Her Lady Rhodia confirmed what had happened.” His fingers whitened on the cup.

“Verden?” Fear swelled in her chest, closing around her heart with every beat.

“The Queen is to be tried for treason.” He fixed her with his pale green stare. There was no hidden laughter, just cold certainty. “Do you know what this means for Annwyn? We go to war with ourselves and fall to winter.”

“Just take the throne and be done with it.”

“I don’t want to be miserable like my father. I want what you have with Verden. I saw the look on his face the moment he realized something was wrong. I have never seen a man die on his feet like that.”

Her eyes widened and her heart was crushed to powder. “He’s dead?”

“He attacked the King and broke the vows he’d sworn when he became Hunter. He is banished.” He watched her closely. “You love him. I see it in your eyes too.” Felan looked away and shook his head. “How could you be so careless with something so precious?”

“We didn’t plan it.” And now he was trapped on the other side of the veil. Usually banishment was a worse penalty, a slow, wasting death after being cut off from Annwyn. But with the power shift so close, it would be a mercy, as exile meant instant death.

“Obviously.”

“What do I do? I need to see him. You need to bring him back.”

Felan stood. “How am I supposed to do that when I am not King? I can’t lift banishments or grant pardons. If I could, I wouldn’t have needed you to get your father back.”

“Take the throne and stop waiting.”

He spun and stared down at her. He ran his fingers through his usually neat hair. “I need a woman I can trust, one I can put on the throne and know she won’t be corrupted. You think I can stroll through the mortal world and find half a dozen?” he sighed. “I had it and I lost it. I have no idea how to get her back.”

“How long has it been?”

“Seven years.”

“You were going to take the throne seven years ago?”

He nodded. Her parents, and she, would have been dead already. He looked at her and saw the horror on her face. “Don’t worry. I’d made plans for your family.”

“Why is my family special?”

“Because your father works for me. Caspian is my son.”

There was a pause as she let the words settle. The changeling her parents served was the Prince’s son. That explained why they were so dedicated…and why there’d been so much recent trouble with Greys at the house. Yet her parents had never breathed a word to her. She raised one eyebrow, knowing Felan’s secrets would come with a price. “And why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to work for me, to swear loyalty to me and my father.”

That was far more than a straight deal. For how long had her parents been the Prince’s loyal subjects? Were they spies as well as Brownies? It was no wonder Felan wanted her father pardoned. But this wasn’t about her parents. This was about her, and there was only one thing she wanted. “What do I get in return? You can’t bring Verden back until you are king.”

And there was no guarantee that he would become king. That threat alone was almost enough to make her vow her support. The idea that the Queen’s chosen would rule Annwyn was a scary prospect.

“I kept my promise to keep you alive. Is that not enough to trust me?”

She turned her head away and realized that she must be in Felan’s room judging from the fine clothing draped over chairs and the desk. What gossip would that start? Or was that part of his plan?

There was a knock on the door. “Is the Lady up? The King is calling Court.”

“She is and will be down presently,” Felan called out without even looking at her.

“Drink and get dressed. I have no wish to see you or Verden come to harm—unless you make plans against me of course.” He smiled like a cat asking a canary if they were tasty.

“My only plan is to be with Verden.”

“Getting yourself banished will help no one. Think bigger, Taryn. You still hold a deal with the King and you have me willing to support you if you support me.”

She drank the rest of the cup. The water tasted sweet and strange, but immediately the pain in her side dulled to a burn instead of a tearing sensation. With a sheet gathered around her, she got up. Felan pointed to a pile of clothes.

“These aren’t my clothes.”

“They are now.”

More gifts she couldn’t afford to take. “What do you want from me?”

“The Queen didn’t plan on being arrested. She hoped to force my father from the throne, but you lived and I know who she supports instead of me.”

“Sulia,” Taryn whispered the name.

Felan nodded. “My father needs a Hunter until I take the throne.” He looked at her. “He’s going to name you.”

“Me?”

“Accept and we can fix everything. My father wants me to step up, but I need time. I need to win back Jacquie. Buy me that time. Be my father’s Hunter, help me win the throne, and I will make sure you and Verden get whatever you want.”

“I want him un-banished, and I want to be free of Court.”

“None of which can happen right now.”

“And if I refuse?” She didn’t want more deals. She didn’t want to be bound to Annwyn by being the temporary Hunter. She wanted Verden and she wanted to go home.

“No one else will be Hunter when my father’s rule is all but over, as that will preclude them from a position on my Council. Without a Queen and a Hunter, my father can’t rule.”

Ah. Now she saw. Because she had no plans to stay, she was the winner by default. Great.

“You have a Hunter in mind but no Queen.”

Felan inclined his head. “I know who I want to be Queen. I just have to win back her heart.” He turned his back. “Dress. We don’t have long.”

Taryn pulled on the greenish-yellow dress that was split to the hip on both sides and showed more leg than she was comfortable with. “What would you do if you were me?”

“Take what is on offer. As Hunter you would have the freedom to cross the veil whenever you wanted…there is no rule requiring the Hunter to live in Annwyn.”

Taryn paused in her search for more clothes and looked at the Prince’s back. “I could live in the mortal world?” She could be with Verden and be Hunter, get her father’s pardon, and get Felan on the throne. Everything would be fine.

Felan gave a casual shrug. “As long as the job is getting done I would not see a problem and I doubt my father would either.”

“But if you fail to secure the throne, I go down with you.”

He half turned and looked over his shoulder. “If I fail, half of Annwyn goes down and the mortal world won’t have time to realize what has happened as the old gods start walking the earth and making demands.”

“You’ve learned of her plans.”

“No, but I know what my mother and Sulia are like. Will you accept and become Hunter?”

“I know nothing about hunting.” And she hadn’t spent years trying to scheme her way into the position. No, but others would think she had. Most assume that the Prince had her well and truly bought, and in a way he did. Only he had the power to help Verden once he was King.

“It’s not about hunting; it’s about loyalty. It’s why my father had to punish Verden.” Felan glanced at her. “Become my father’s last Hunter. Help me take the throne.” He smiled as if everything were simple.

Did she really have any other choice? If she didn’t, she might as well put Sulia on the throne. “I don’t know how to be the Hunter.”

“It’s not that hard. Given the way things are, it’s really just a formality.”

“You swear to un-banish Verden once you are King?”

He paused before answering.

“What?”

“Verden needs to agree to serve me first.”

Taryn snagged a pair of pants from the clothing pile. They were pale green and looked like they might go with the dress—at any rate, they were women’s clothes, not men’s. “Can you not just agree and make life easy for once?”

“I will do everything I can to see you and Verden back together, how’s that?”

“I don’t want to be banished.” She grimaced as her side pulled.

“Please, Taryn. Make my life easy and agree. I have so much going on at the moment and so much to do in a short amount of time that I need people who will help me.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know your father and mother. I know you don’t crave power, and I know you love Verden. That you are capable of that kind of love is all I need to know.”

She smoothed the dress and hoped she looked okay. “You are asking a lot.”

“And I am expected to do more while I watch my father die.” For a moment, the Prince looked grief stricken, but he pulled himself together fast.

“I’m sorry.” She touched his arm.

“I knew it was coming, but I thought there’d be a time where I was King and he wasn’t, where we could bridge the separation that has formed.”

“You can still do that.”

Felan shook his head. “No. My priority has to be Jacquie. Without her, all is lost.”

“Does she know of your plans for her?”

He grimaced. “Not in as many words. We had a falling out.”

“Then how do you know she still wants you?”

“I don’t.”

“Plan B?”

Felan was silent. Oh geez. There was no plan B. He had no backup Queen.

“If Jacquie won’t have me, then who I chose doesn’t matter.” He offered her his arm. “Come. They will be waiting.”

The Hall of Judgment was full. It hadn’t even been this full when she had first arrived. This time she walked in on Felan’s arm with her head high. She wondered what rumors they had all heard. Within seconds, it was obvious that Verden and the Queen were missing. She wasn’t the only one to notice and there were whispers that she couldn’t make out, but lips were moving.

The King beckoned her forward to stand at his side. He wasn’t sitting in his throne. He was standing, his back rigid, sword hanging at his hip, his clothing darkest purple, almost black. Felan stood on the other side.

Her breath caught in her throat. This was no simple judgment. There was finality about it.

The King lifted his hand and silence immediately followed. “Thank you for gathering at short notice. Before rumors have a chance to take hold, I would like to clear up a few matters. Verden ap Hollis is no longer Lord of the Hunt.”

There were a few gasps and whisperings. Sulia smiled, surrounded by the Queen’s Ladies, as if she were ready to be crowned Queen.

The King waited a moment. “I will not be stepping down as King as I have a new Hunter.”

Sulia’s eyes widened. There were a few gasps as people tried to work out who would take such a precarious job. Apparently only one person was dumb and desperate enough. Her.

“The Lady of the Hunt will be Taryn merch Arlea merch Cerela.”

If Felan hadn’t told her beforehand, she’d have died on the spot. As it was, she had to force the smile and hope no one could hear the rapid patter of her heart. She was deep in the race for the throne now, enmeshed in Annwyn politics. How had that happened to her, a fairy raised in the mortal world?

Sulia glared at her, no doubt thinking she slept her way to the top—which couldn’t be further from the truth—and in the process proven herself to be aligned with the King and Felan, not the Queen as Sulia had thought.

A silver sword was produced and Gwyn laid it in her hands. “Do you swear to uphold the security of Annwyn at all times?”

She swallowed; this was Verden’s sword. She needed to see him. Did he have any idea what was going down in Annwyn?

“I do.” Her words came out clear and sure, which wasn’t what she was feeling. She didn’t know what to do with a sword. Sulia looked like she wanted to drive it straight through Taryn’s heart. Another enemy. Would she live long enough to see Verden again?

“Do you swear loyalty to me?”

She wanted to look at Felan but she didn’t. She kept her gaze on Gwyn. “I do.”

He released the sword, and people clapped, some more enthusiastically than others. Some looked like they were about to choke.

The King lifted one hand and silence fell again. “The Queen will no longer be attending Court. She is confined to her rooms for committing treason.”

If Taryn being named Hunter had caused a shiver of whispers, this brought the house down. Noise erupted like battle was about to break out. The whole time Gwyn stood there calm and emotionless. He glanced once at his son, and Felan bowed his head as if he knew what was coming. Taryn saw the look in the Prince’s eye and all she could feel was sorrow for him. Forced to take the throne before he was ready, unsure of who would sit by his side, and aching for a lost love.

The King waited for the noise died down. “I name Felan ap Gwyn ap Nudd as my heir, to take the throne in two mortal weeks.”

Felan held his head high, looking every part the willing Prince, but she knew he must be dying inside. Two weeks to find a woman to sit beside him for an eternity. Then she realized she would only be Hunter for two weeks.

“I will hand the crown over without bloodshed. There will be no war.” He paused and looked at all of the Lords and Ladies. “No war. No winter. Not again.”

Every single person lowered their heads. Out of respect or to hide their betrayal?

Felan stepped forward. “Today brings no joy to me.” He bowed to his father. “Thank you for agreeing to step down. In the next two weeks, I will be looking to appoint a Guardian of the Veil and a Hunter. My Queen is waiting safely in the mortal world.” He smiled like he truly had her—even Taryn almost believed the lie. “Any act against her will be considered an act of treason and I shall take all measures to quash it and the leaders. This will be a bloodless change.” He echoed his father’s words.

But bloodless didn’t mean painless. There were some who didn’t look thrilled by the idea. Yet none spoke out, not here—they wouldn’t dare. Tonight there would be new deals made and plots constructed. Sulia would be busy.

The King walked off the dais and Felan and Taryn followed. Her heart was beating loud in her chest, but no one stopped her. No one said anything even though they all watched.

“Follow.” Gwyn walked toward his private rooms, ones he would have once shared with Eyra. He sent the shadow servants away and then shut the door. “Sit, both of you.”

Taryn sat on the nearest seat. She didn’t want to piss the King off anymore. He wasn’t just tightly wound today; he had started to crack.

When he turned, his expression was unreadable. “I trust you are better, Taryn?”

She nodded, her tongue like sandpaper.

“How big was the lie, son? Have you even chosen a woman to be your Queen?”

“I will be ready.”

“You’d better be. We don’t have the luxury of love.” The King looked at Taryn. “You should have told me you loved Verden.”

“Would it have made a difference?”

The King nodded. “I am not as cruel as my wife.”

“Yet you left him in the mortal world.”

“I had no choice. I have to keep control. Any sign of weakness and there will be uprising. As a Grey, he is safe from the power shift.” Gwyn paced with his hands behind his back. “And there is still the matter of our deal. I will keep my word. If your father agrees to swallow his pride and be a shadow servant, I will grant full pardon instead.”

That was all she’d ever wanted. “Yes, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I know how large your father’s pride is. I think that’s why he was your friend.” Gwyn glanced at Felan.

Felan nodded. “However, I can’t let them return.”

“What?” Taryn stood then quickly sat back down when the King glared at her.

“I told you, your father serves me. If he returns to Annwyn, you must to take his place there when I am King. I need my son protected in the mortal world.”

She’d get to live in the mortal world again, this time as a Brownie for the changeling she already knew. It seemed too good to be true. “What’s the catch?”

Felan turned his palms up. “No catch.”

“And Verden?” If she had to take her parents’ place in the changeling’s house, how could she be with Verden?

Felan gave her a look that made her feel like she was ten paces behind the conversation. “I will make my deals with him in private.”

Chapter 22

It was dusk by the time Verden had walked down to the lake. He’d been led there by the wild fae. Not that he could say he’d seen them, but he’d felt them around him, seen the light of a will-o-wisp flitting in the trees, and with nothing better to do, he’d followed.

The two bows and the quiver of remaining arrows were slung over his shoulder. Even if he had inspected the weapons, he’d have never realized they were poisoned. There was nothing to see, nothing to smell—no taint at all if they’d been dipped in nothing more harmful than water. Which is exactly what the Queen must have arranged. Since she couldn’t fabricate a charge to have Taryn thrown in the river, she’d brought the river to Taryn.

Clever.

Not that it helped him now. By now the Court would know he was banished. Had Felan kept his word and made sure Taryn was well? Or had the river’s poison claimed her? The thought hurt as if he were the one being slowly poisoned. He wasn’t being poisoned, but he was cut off from the magic that sustained all fairies. Him. Banished. Not something he’d ever considered. But then he’d never expected to fall in love either.

Moonlight shimmered off the lake. Small ripples formed in the breeze, and yet even here, death waited. The wild fae that had guided him here drew away from the water lapping at the shore. Even in the dark he saw why. The edge of the lake was littered with dead fish and deer. How long until every body of water was tainted?

He turned away, not sure where he was going.

“I can’t do anything.” His voice echoed in the night. Did Gwyn know what he was doing anymore? Did he care about the damage?

Wild fae hovered at the edges, as if pleading with him to do something, anything. They wouldn’t take human form and talk to him unless they had to. He wished they would, so he’d have someone to talk to. While he craved the peace, spending forever here waiting for Taryn to step through the doorway would send him mad.

There really was nothing he could do.

He was no longer part of the Court.

Isn’t this what he’d wanted? The freedom to do what he pleased. Yet he wasn’t truly free. He’d been given a finite amount of time before he withered and died, and all he wanted to do with his remaining time was be with Taryn and that was impossible. That didn’t stop him from climbing back up the hill, following the deer tracks to where the standing stones inscribed with symbols he couldn’t read waited.

If he walked into the nearest town, he wouldn’t be able to read the signs. Every time he used magic to deceive someone it would shorten his life. He walked between the stones and felt nothing. There was no shimmer of magic announcing a doorway. He couldn’t even feel Annwyn. If he couldn’t feel it, he couldn’t break into it and go to Taryn.

He’d have to wait for her to come to him.

He placed the poisoned arrows and the bows down; he needed to find a way of making them safe or a way to destroy them. Then he sat with his back against a tree and closed his eyes. He felt the old magic around him—he always had when he came to old places—but he couldn’t touch it. It was different—life where Annwyn was death.

But he didn’t need magic to survive. He’d grown up on a farm. He knew how to find food. He could survive here for as long as it took. And if she never came back? Verden closed his eyes. He didn’t want to live. What was the point of living without love?

* * *

Taryn stood in the middle of Verden’s chamber. Whereas Felan’s room had been draped in silks and color, this room was simple. The bed was still large and sumptuous, but the colors were softer, as if he hadn’t wanted to drape the branches in colors that didn’t belong on trees. She drew aside the curtain and found his clothes all neatly hung; below were shoes, mostly boots. She smiled as she touched his cloak, then she lifted the fabric to her face and inhaled.

Like a forest at night. Her skin remembered his touch.

Behind her a hound whimpered. She could feel its distress at the sudden change in Hunter.

“Hey, boy.” She pulled the cloak down and draped it around herself. It was too long, the edge brushing the ground as she walked, but she didn’t care. Then she bent and gave the dog a scratch behind its red ears. Its tail thumped hopefully on the ground and he licked her palm. “We’ll get him back. I promise.”

A lump formed in her throat.

She stood and clicked her fingers. The hound followed, happy to have someone to be with. Beyond the door, the King was waiting, talking to another fairy on his Council. She gave him a firm nod. Together they walked to the doorway to go back to Charleston. People bowed and watched as they walked in much the same way they had when Verden and the King had passed by. While she was sure they whispered behind her back, they were no longer doing it as she walked past.

Gwyn paused by the trees that marked the doorway. “If your father won’t take the offer, there is nothing else I can do.”

“You could pardon him.”

“No. But I could banish him so he survives the power shift and then becomes Felan’s problem.”

She nodded. “Do you still plan to make me your mistress?”

“I never intended to take you to my bed. I wanted to see how far you were willing to go to save your father, that is all. You intrigued me because you acted out of love, not a quest for power. I enjoyed your company; you brought life to the Court.” He smiled. “I wasn’t the only one who noticed.”

“I never meant to cause you embarrassment.”

“You are young and unschooled. Verden is reckless. He was always a risk taker. It’s why he climbed so fast. I was envious of the chances he could take.” He looked at the doorway. “Let’s see if your father has learned his lesson.”

The air shimmered as she stepped through, and then she was in the cemetery opposite the big old plantation house. She almost dropped to her knees and kissed the footpath.

Tears welled but she blinked them back. She was home.

She glanced at the King, but he was leaning against a tombstone, arms crossed, waiting. The hound that had followed was sniffing around, then it looked up and over at the house, and she knew what the dog was thinking.

“Verden has been here.”

“He has.” Gwyn nodded. Several small blue birds landed around him, heralding the arrival of King of Annwyn in the mortal world. But the King didn’t make a move toward the house. “Chalmer will know I’m here.”

After a few more moments, the front door opened and her mom and dad slipped out and crossed the road. Taryn took a step forward but neither of them were looking at her; they had their eyes down and were moving toward the King as if she didn’t exist.

After everything she’d done for them—then she realized that they had to acknowledge the King first and not their daughter. They knew their lives were on the line.

“Thank you for attending me.” Gwyn lifted his hand and her parents looked up. They glanced at her. “Have your reunion.”

She threw her arms around her mother and then her father, both of them hugging her.

“Thank you.” Her dad kissed her cheek.

“I’m so proud.” Arlea smoothed Taryn’s hair.

Taryn pulled back. “No, don’t thank me yet.” She’d had time to think about what to tell them and had decided that keeping it simple was best. There was no need to tell them about Verden or that she had agreed to take their place once Felan was King. If they knew, they might hesitate. “The King has agreed to let you return to Annwyn.” Not Court, that would be Felan’s decision. “If Dad will take his original sentence and be a shadow servant for a mortal year and a day.”

Arlea gasped and turned to the King. “How could you?”

“I might ask the same of you.” The King Taryn had first met was there, all ice and power, willing to crush those who wouldn’t obey.

“Settle, Love. I will do it.” Chalmer placed a hand on his wife’s arm.

“No, you shouldn’t have to. You’ve served your sentence many times over here.”

Gwyn shook his head. “No he hasn’t. He ran and took you with him.”

“And that’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Arlea raised an eyebrow and Taryn got a glimpse of the courtier her mother must have been when she’d been on the King’s Council, always willing to step up and question him.

“Sire, I accept the offer. Let this business be done.” Chalmer bowed.

Taryn released the breath she’d been holding. He’d taken the offer. She wanted to blurt out that it had all been part of a deal and that everything would be okay. But her mother got in first.

“No.” Arlea wrapped her arms around Chalmer.

Her father placed his hands over Arlea’s. “It’s a mortal year and a day, hardly any time in Annwyn.”

“Mom, it will be okay.” She glanced at the King desperate to say something.

Gwyn beckoned Chalmer forward and he obeyed. “You agreed to become a shadow, that was all I asked. Your actual service is not required. You have your pardon and are free to cross the veil, although I suggest staying away from Court until after the coronation.”

Her mother drew in a sharp breath. “Thank you, sire.” She lowered her gaze and tried to compose herself.

“Thank your daughter. She played well, right to the end.” The King smiled and Taryn let herself relax just a little. “At your earliest convenience.” Gwyn turned away from her parents.

“What of our duties here, sire?” Chalmer said.

Gwyn glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sure my son will have made alternative arrangements.”

Her mother turned to her and looked at the white hound. “I hope you know what you are doing.”

“I do.” And that was the truth. While she didn’t want to be a Court fairy scheming for the next advancement, she knew what she did want and how to go about getting it. If that meant playing by the Court’s rules, then so be it. Then she hugged her father and mother again, grateful that she had been raised in the mortal world and could choose how she wanted to live. Even though they may not agree. It was her choice, her life, and her deal.

“Thank you. I am grateful,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t think your mother could have handled me being a shadow.”

Her mother’s one weakness was Chalmer. No doubt someone at Court had exploited that knowledge, the same way the Queen had used Verden’s attraction. “I have to go. The King is waiting.”

The King was standing by the gate of the cemetery, ready to cross the veil back to Annwyn. She’d done as asked. Secured the pardon. Her parents could return and they would be safe from the power shift.

As would Verden, but that didn’t stop her heart from aching.

* * *

Verden opened his eyes as someone crossed the veil from Annwyn. His heart stopped for a moment, then beat again as disappointment filled him. Felan walked toward him, his expression giving away nothing.

“Is she alive?” Verden got to his feet.

Felan nodded. “And the temporary Hunter. I’ve been given two weeks to get my act together and prevent war.”

Verden let himself breathe easily. She was alive. A smile formed. And she had his old job. No doubt that would upset a few plans.

“How can you smile?”

“Taryn is alive.” Verden shrugged. He couldn’t explain it, but it gave him hope that everything would be okay. He just had to last the next two weeks until Felan became King.

“You are still banished.”

He was, but now that he knew how long he had to wait it was manageable. “In two weeks you can change that.”

“You would swear to me?”

“If Gwyn were no longer King, I would.”

Felan nodded and he knew the Prince was plotting out a deal. “My son, Caspian, is going to need a guardian, someone I can trust to keep the Greys away while I take Annwyn.”

“I am a Grey.”

“Temporary. Keep him safe for the next two weeks and I will lift the banishment.”

Temporary. That hadn’t worked out very well for him last time when he and Taryn had tried a temporary breakup. Still he had no other options. “And after, I can return to Taryn?”

“She will not be remaining at Court. You will remain his guardian for the rest of his natural life.”

“Will he accept me?” The last time he’d seen Felan’s changeling son, he’d been hauling him to Court to face charges of making deals with banished fairies.

“I will ensure he does, but he is used to having a guardian.”

Verden looked at the Prince. “You haven’t offered me a chance to see Taryn.”

“That is not my choice to make. It is hers. You are a Grey and she is the Hunter.”

The two men looked at each other. Verden spoke first. “Are her parents returned to Annwyn?”

“I don’t know. This is about you. Do you accept my offer?”

Verden closed his eyes for a moment. He could be binding himself in ways he couldn’t see. What deals had Taryn made while he wasn’t around? He was blind. And yet, if he made this deal, it would be that last one he made. Mortals didn’t live forever, but being around the changeling would give him a chance to learn the ways of the world. All things Taryn took for granted. Things he’d never bothered with.

He opened his eyes. Felan was watching. “I accept.”

Chapter 23

Two hounds bounded through the gate. They ran toward him and leaped against his chest. Verden grinned and scratched them as they jumped over his legs and licked his hands. Then they began to whine. Their tails slowed as if they were confused. They sniffed him again, unable to work out what was wrong with their old master.

He was going to miss them. He tried to ignore the pain that lodged in his rib cage and made it hard to breathe. A flicker of movement caught his eye and he looked up. Taryn stood, watching him, her face unreadable.

The hounds ran back to her, sniffed around her legs, then sat at her feet. It was all he needed to see to confirm she was the new Hunter of Annwyn.

He stood and bowed, even though he wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her. Was she here on official business or had she come to see him? “Congratulations, Lady of the Hunt.”

“It’s temporary.”

“Isn’t everything at the moment?” Nothing was fixed and everyone was on edge.

She took a step toward him. “I thought some things would last longer.”

“So did I.” He looked her in the eye even though a Grey should show more respect to the Hunter. Did she no longer love him? “It wasn’t me who shot you. I want you to know that.”

Taryn nodded. “I know. I need to know why.”

“I couldn’t hurt you. I didn’t want to lose you, but I knew that if I’d won, we’d both end up in trouble. At least this way, only I suffer.” He glanced at the ground. “I’m sorry we’re even having this conversation.”

“I’m glad we are. I nearly died, and you could’ve ended up in the river. But I wouldn’t change a thing.” She smiled and took a step closer. His heart gave an extra beat.

“Neither would I.” He took a couple steps, then gently put his arms around her. She was warm and alive and in his arms again. “I thought I’d lost you. I wanted to die when Felan took you away.” His words were interspersed with kisses that landed on her cheeks and hair and finally her lips.

She tasted sweet and heady, like he was drinking whiskey again. Her tongue traced his lips and darted against his, making his blood heat and his flesh harden. His hand slid beneath his cloak and down her back to cup her butt. She moved against him, tempting him, but broke the kiss.

“We don’t have long. I’m here to collect you and relocate you.” She whispered against his lips.

“Relocate me?” Greys sometimes got rounded up and relocated if they were causing problems. He’d done it a few times; usually they got to live out their days in an isolated part of Greenland or Africa depending on his mood or his orders.

“To Charleston.”

“You know about the deal.” One of the hounds looked at him as if blaming Verden for the current situation. He was to blame. If he’d behaved himself during the dance, he wouldn’t be getting relocated halfway across the globe to serve out his two-week sentence, before working for Felan. He hadn’t expected Felan to act so quickly, or for him to send Taryn to do the job…but then maybe it was Felan’s way of saying that they could be together and he was giving them some time.

“I know you are the changeling’s new guardian. You’ll like him.”

A better question was would the changeling like him after their first inauspicious meeting? Would he rub it in Verden’s face that he was now a Grey? But he kept his doubts to himself. He’d made the deal and now he had to live with it.

“Did you know that’s where my parents used to be Brownies?”

He blinked and looked down at her. Used to be. “You got the pardon? Well done.” He tried not to think about what she’d given up to get them home, even though the question was on the tip of his tongue.

She must have seen something in his eyes because she grinned. “It’s all okay. I won the King’s bet. My father got the pardon, but…Felan asked that I take their place after the power shift.”

Her words settled around him as he worked out what she was saying. They would be in the same house. Taryn was going to be released from Court. He picked her up and swung her around as if they were dancing again at Court. When her toes touched the ground, he kissed her again. “I hope that means what I think it means.”

She nodded. “We will be together.”

Was this some kind of trap he was failing to see the whole of? His mind raced with possibilities, but he found nothing.

“And the King? The fallout from the hunt?” By rights, the King should own her after winning the hunt. Verden shouldn’t be touching her and yet he couldn’t let her go.

She didn’t answer; she just looked at him with a faint smile on her lips.

What was he missing? “What is it? Just say it.”

“I am the Hunter. That is all that he asked.”

“But you are stuck at Court.” He covered her hand with his and rested his cheek against her hair. She smelled like flowers, sweet and tempting. “While I will be stuck in Charleston.” And a Grey.

She turned her head and brushed her lips against his. “But I can come and see you whenever I want. In fact, there is no rule that the Hunter must live at Court…” Her suggestion hung in the air like a tempting promise. It was almost too good. Too easy.

He drew in a breath. “You plan to live in the mortal world while being Hunter?”

She nodded. “Since my main job will be monitoring fairies in the mortal world, I can see no better place to be based.”

He kissed her again. His tongue tasted her lips before she opened her mouth to him. Her body melted against him, and for a moment he felt like the luckiest fairy on either side of the veil. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She rested her head on his chest.

In just two weeks, he would be free from Court and obligated to stay in the mortal world. And Taryn would be there with him.

That was all that mattered. Not status or deals. The one thing he could never have at Court was the only thing he wanted. Love.

She stepped back and pulled a set of silver handcuffs from her belt. “Ready?”

He eyed the enchanted silver cuffs, well aware of what they were. She was actually going to transport him like a common prisoner. Like a Grey. “That isn’t necessary.”

“You have transported Greys before.”

“Yes, but…” But nothing. Without the silver cuffs, he wouldn’t be allowed into Annwyn. He wouldn’t be able cross the veil. Once there, they would start burning him. He’d had one Grey run away only to come back screaming for them to be removed. And the only person who could remove them was the Hunter.

Verden held his hands out as Taryn placed the silver cuffs around his wrists. A thread of heat raced through his body as he remembered the last time she’d pinned his hands in the grass. She ran her finger around the edge of the cuff and then up his arm. A faint smile curved her lips. Was she thinking the same thing?

He lifted his hands and touched her cheek. “You know we could kill some time.” He smiled and gave the cuffs a rattle.

That made her laugh. It was the way he remembered, like bells ringing through the still night air. She didn’t care that he was a Grey and had no status at Court. She was here because of him. He looped his arms over her head and pulled her into an embrace that was more than a little awkward because of the cuffs. He pulled her close, so she could feel him hard against her belly.

Her lips brushed against his. “Not here. We’ll celebrate at the changeling’s house.”

He grinned and released her. “Lead the way, Hunter. I am yours to command.”

Chapter 24

The cabin on the edge of the Charleston property was only habitable because she’d used some magic on it. Verden couldn’t go into the house because it was protected from Greys by a magical silver tea set. Not that it mattered. Living out here was fine for now. It was theirs, even if was just some blankets on the floor at the moment.

She moved closer to Verden, not wanting to get up yet but knowing she needed to run some errands for Felan and make an appearance at Court. Verden looped his arm over her, his wrist still marked from the enchanted cuff.

“What are you thinking about?” His fingers trailed over her stomach.

“Nothing.”

“Liar. I knew you were smiling.” He gave her belly a tickle.

Taryn rolled over to face him. “I’m smiling because we are here, together.” Something which had almost seemed impossible only days ago.

He traced her cheek with the back of his hand. “Whatever happens, we’ll survive.”

She nodded, then leaned over and kissed him. “I have to get moving.”

“I’m sure a few more minutes won’t matter.” He rolled onto his back and drew her to him, the length of his shaft pressing against her, tempting her to delay doing her job.

“Yeah?” She sat up so she straddled him, heat already simmering in her blood.

“I need you more than Annwyn does.” He placed his hands on her hips, positioning her directly over his shaft.

She laughed. “That may be true, but I still have a job to do, and so do you.”

“By the time you get back, this place will have a bed and curtains.”

“Is that right?” Having an actual bed would be nice.

Verden had taken on the job of fixing up all three cabins to give him something to do. She knew that not using magic was bugging him. While he wasn’t complaining, he was being very strict with himself and conserving all power that he had—few Greys did that. He and the changeling, Caspian, were getting on. Caspian had been wary at first but had come around fast when Taryn had explained the situation and Verden’s new status as Grey and guardian. Her parents had returned to Annwyn in preparation…and she’d let Caspian know that he’d get a new Brownie after the power shift. She was sure he understood what she wasn’t saying but was smart enough to say nothing.

“It’s all arranged. While you run around for Annwyn, I’m remembering what manual labor feels like.” He ran his roughened palms over her thighs so his fingers brushed the lips of her sex.

A few more minutes with Verden wouldn’t matter. Then she’d go. She leaned down to kiss him, taking her time, knowing that days here were a fraction of the time in Annwyn. Annwyn could wait, but she couldn’t.

Verden smiled, knowing he’d won. They both had.

Acknowledgments

A big thank-you to my family for supporting me at every turn, my crit group for reading the story in its early stages, my editor Leah and her assistant Cat, my agent, the cover artist, copy editors, and marketing. While writing the first draft is something I do on my own, getting the book onto the shelf takes a team. Thank you all :)!

About the Author

Three-time ARRA finalist Shona Husk lives in Western Australia at the edge of the Indian Ocean. Blessed with a lively imagination, she spent most of her childhood making up stories. As an adult, she discovered romance novels and hasn’t looked back. Drawing on history and myth, she weaves new worlds and writes heroes who aren’t afraid to get hurt while falling in love.

With stories ranging from sensual to scorching, she is published with Carina Press, Ellora’s Cave, Samhain Publishing, and Sourcebooks. You can find out more at www.shonahusk.com. You can also find her at www.twitter.com/ShonaHusk, www.facebook.com/shonahusk, and read her newsletter at http://eepurl.com/lySiD.

Content

Lord of the Hunt
Court of Annwyn - 2
by
Shona Husk

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Acknowledgments

About the Author