Revelin

Revelin

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the unease that’s settled over me like a shroud. It’s as if the air in Briarvale is charged with an energy that whispers of old magic and new threats. I can’t put my finger on it, but something about our unexpected return nags at me, setting off alarms in my mind that refuse to be silenced.

This city never feels as magically charged as home, but today… it’s different, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad.

“Hey, Rev,” Tiernan says, his voice a low thrum next to me. “The vampire is always quiet, but you never shut up. What’s put a burr under your saddle, man?”

“Trying to decipher the riddle of our presence,” I admit, my gaze still darting among the shadows cast by the surrounding merriment. “What kind of magic pulls a Fae prince from a court ball back to another realm with zero resistance? It shouldn’t have worked, so whomever placed the magic must be extremely powerful or very high in the immortal food chain. That’s never a good sign.”

“Sounds like you think we’re walking another goddamn trap,” Fi offers, her voice irritated despite the uncertainty of our situation. “I’m getting awfully fucking tired of people lurking in shadows, trying to stab us in the back.”

“Perhaps it’s a warning,” Dezi interjects, his eyes as enigmatic as ever. “As the Prince said, it could come from sources well above the paygrade of petty revenge seekers or jealous hangers-on. Immature and irrelevant attacks are only for small-minded individuals.”

That’s true—I don’t think Amethyst or Khorinea have enough power in their little fingers to force a royal and ancient through a portal, despite what their over-inflated egos think.

“Could be evil or good… or even neutral,” I say, feeling the weight of my title more heavily than the crown I refuse to don outside Faerie. “We’ve made enemies—more than I care to count—and not just any enemies; ones that know how to hurt us without leaving their grimy fingerprints on the deed.”

“Maybe it’s none of those things,” Khol suggests as he shrugs. “Maybe it’s just Fate messing with us. I know that’s not really a ‘shifter’ thing, but witches like Sassy and gits like you believe in them. Our return could be a cosmic mind-fuck to amuse themselves.”

“Guess we haven’t outlived the outstandingly bad luck we had in Faerie then,” Tiernan grumbles, his hand absentmindedly resting on the hilt of his weapon hidden beneath his arm. “I’m not letting any of you near artifacts until someone does some witchy-woo check on it from now on. Keeping us safe if my job, and your impulsiveness is making it hard.”

“If it was hard, it’d be good luck,” Fi counters with a wink. Her hand finds mine and squeezes gently as our mates laugh. “Now that we’re back home, let’s get up to speed. The poor reception in Faerie cut us off from here except for the most dire of circumstances, and I think we need to know what went on while we were absent, don’t you?”

“Home,” I echo, savoring the word and its myriad implications. I’d never consider Briarvale that before—more of a place to hide from my father and have fun. But my mate is right; this has become another home to me because of what our little family is building. Maybe I should also pay attention to what happens here.

That makes me grin, but it fades when I consider the timing of our return. It’s far too precise to be coincidental, and it makes my ears itch. There are secrets buried in Briarvale—secrets that could unravel everything if exposed. That much is obvious from the research and digging we’ve done on both sides of The Veil. However, if someone has orchestrated this homecoming, they might just know where to dig.

I need to keep my ears open and stretch out my magic to see if I can catch whispers on the wind.

“We have to stay sharp,” I say, my resolve hardening. “If this is a game, we need to learn the rules quickly. Mis-steps could be extremely dangerous, don’t you agree, vampire?”

“Yes,” Dezi nods, a rare flicker of concern crossing his features before he masks it with his usual stoic expression. “Let’s blend in with the festival-goers for now. We’ll research as inconspicuously as we can.”

“Lead the way, Prince Revelin. I’m sure that will help us fly under the radar,” Fi teases lightly, despite her grip on my hand tightening ever so slightly where no one can see.

“Right.” I draw in a deep breath and step forward, my band of misfits in tow.

We melt into the crowd, donning our best poker faces. I know the cogs turn and the puzzle pieces are shuffling for my companions as we search for the pattern that will reveal why magic has brought us home. Slipping past the curious glances of townsfolk, we make a beeline for the Biergarten. Dezi’s assurance that Louie will keep our unexpected return under wraps offers a sliver of comfort.

Town gossip spreads faster than wildfire in Briarvale, and in this moment, anonymity is our ally.

“Can you smell that?” Tiernan breaks into a contented smile as the rich aroma of roasting meats and spices wafts toward us. His stomach grumbles audibly, voicing what we’re all thinking without a single word.

“I’m fucking starved ,” Fi agrees as she playfully nudges Tiernan’s side.

“Me, too. I could swallow a bitch whole,” Khol declares fervently, his eyes lighting up with anticipation.

Shifters are often ravenous when they’re affected by fighting or dealing with magic, even the alphas.

We quicken our pace to the promise of sanctuary and sustenance within the garden’s wooden walls. As we push through the entrance, the sight of Louie stops us short. The vampire, once the epitome of Victorian elegance, now stands before us clad in modern garb, looking every bit the affluent entrepreneur rather than the nocturnal predator I know him to be.

“Changing it up, Louie?” Fi teases with a mock scowl. “Where’s the lace? The frills?”

“Evolution, my dear Fiadh,” he retorts, his gaze flickering down to the graphic tee clinging to her frame. “Seems you’ve taken a liking to band merch from your lover —how quaint.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s no actual heat behind it. Those two love to bicker and fight, but I think Dezi’s second-in-command would definitely cut a bitch for the sisters. He sighs and steps out from behind the bar, leading Dezi to a secluded table. The vampire ensures we’re situated away from prying eyes, then vanishes momentarily, only to return with an assortment of food and drink—and a crystal goblet filled with a thick crimson liquid for Dezi.

Man, he really has his people trained; I should look into that.

“Business has been steady,” Louie reports once we’ve all started on our meal. He fills us in on the club’s affairs, noting the lack of concern over the ancient vampire’s absence. “But Feray and Fiadh’s disappearance have the rumor mill churning.”

Fi frowns, looking surprised. “Really? How odd. Usually people want us to go away.”

“Mo’s been insufferable,” he continues, getting a snort from our girl. “Jasper’s patience is wearing thin. Might have a show if this goes on much longer.”

“I’d pay to watch Jasper beat that stupid little vulpine shit’s ass. Best show in the world,” she declares with a smirk.

“Speaking of shows,” Tiernan interjects between bites, “any more trouble from that gargoyle we ousted?”

“Ah, the scandal of the season,” Louie says with a smirk. “Half the town’s nightspots have blacklisted their clutch. It seems exile is contagious.”

Good. That dick scared my mate and I would have helped the others destroy him if we weren’t busy with other shit.

Plus, the news sparks a gleeful glint in my eyes—the kind that thrives on disorder. Drama within the supernatural community can be as entertaining as it is dangerous. But for now, the simple glee of watching chaos unfold from the sidelines is a welcome distraction from our own tumultuous arrival.

“Chaos,” I muse with a smirk, toying with the stem of my goblet, “is an art form, and I am a master at it. I’m only sad this one isn’t really my doing.” I lean back in my chair, enjoying the flicker of amusement in Fiadh’s eyes as she chuckles, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “However, our girl has been sewing seeds of her own while we were away.”

The guys all grin a bit, caught up in the memory of the mean groupie’s impotent fury when she realized she couldn’t control the entire crowd at the concert.

“Khorinea’s face when Fi took the stage? Oh, it was so badass. The crowd was spellbound when you sat with me at the piano. And your takedown of that talentless mean girl had them cheering you on at the other event.”

The way Fi had handled Khorinea, with a wit sharper than any blade, has become a favorite anecdote of mine.

“That Fae won’t be showing her face in the Night District clubs anytime soon, then,” Louie pipes up, scribbling a mental note on his imaginary pad. His lips curl upward, revealing a hint of pearly fangs in amusement. “I enjoy the fuck out of ruining the lives of those who richly deserve a taste of their own karma.”

“Make sure everyone knows,” I add, unable to suppress the wave of satisfaction rolling through me. Dezi’s rare smile, flashing a fang, is like icing on the cake. “I can’t eject her from the groupie train, but we can make her miserable as hell at any every turn. She’s earned it for her lies and waspish behavior.”

Our laughter fades into a more somber quiet as Louie straightens, his expression turning thoughtful. “So, why exactly are you here? I didn’t want to ask, but since you seem eager to avoid the public eye, I figure the how is an issue as well.”

He’s smarter than he acts, that’s for sure.

The question hangs heavy in the air, unanswered mysteries swirling around us like the evening mist. With a sigh, I recount the eerie finale of our escapade at Harvest Court, the confusion of being consumed by some vortex only to be spit out onto familiar cobblestones.

“By Cocktails it always does.”

Khol arches a brow at her. “Oooh, look at who’s all Zen master today. What’s gotten into you, Sassy?”

“Perhaps touching a stupid cup and ending up doing the fucking Time Warp?” she retorts drily. “I figure I should let this shit play out without punching anyone—for now—so I don’t piss off whatever being sent us into the lion’s den. Tier just mentioned the need for caution.”

“Since when do you listen?” the big cat says with a grin. “I should buy a lottery ticket while we’re in town. Help me remember that, Snakeman.”

“For fuck’s sake…” Fiadh says as she rubs her temples. “There goes my goddamn Zen—right out the window like a trapped bird.”

Their playful interaction makes me grin, but when my gaze moves to Dezi to catch his reaction, I see that he’s surveying the Biergarten. His eyes linger on the shadows where the sun doesn’t quite reach at this time of day. The stance is projecting predator, and his usual stoic demeanor has given way to a silent vigilance that speaks volumes without a word. I don’t ask—Dezi’s secrets are his own—but I make a mental note to keep a subtle watch on him.

Something is amiss, and my gut tells me he believes we’re not dealing with the aftermath of a Fae artifact gone awry.

“Revelin, you’re quiet again,” Fiadh says, her voice pulling me back to the table. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Nothing worth buying,” I reply with a grin, though I can feel the weight of my concern like a stone in my chest. If trouble is brewing, my magic will be our first line of defense. It’s a responsibility I carry as easily as my guitar, but the strings of power require a more delicate touch.

She nods, but her gaze flicks to the likewise silent vampire before she goes back to her food. Fiadh wasn’t born yesterday, so she’s picking up that the two of us suspect something. Luckily, our relationship in Faerie has developed enough that she’s giving us space to work out our thoughts before she pries.

Laughter and conversation flow around us as we finish the hearty fare Louie procured, even though the background emotions are tense. One by one, we slip away to the trailer behind the garden. It’s a small space, cluttered with cleaning supplies and boxes of decorations, but it offers a private spot to wash away the grime of travel and unease.

Everyone is much more relaxed afterward, so the casual atmosphere dissipates as strategy takes center stage. Tiernan outlines potential allies we could contact, and Fiadh maps out places of power we might want to search. Dezi remains mostly silent, but his input is sharp, pointed, cutting through uncertainty like a blade.

“Whoever—or whatever—brought us back mid-ball had a reason,” I say, leaning forward with my elbows on the table. “And if it’s a threat, then Fi is the priority.”

“ Everyone is a priority,” Fiadh disagrees, her hand reaching for mine beneath the table, a silent promise that we stand together. “None of you are expendable, as much as I want to stab myself for admitting that out loud.”

“Don’t worry; we won’t let you forget it,” Dezi says, his voice a low rumble of satisfaction. “But for now, we start with the why.”

Briarvale holds secrets, and those secrets have claws and teeth. We’ll have to tread carefully, but whatever brought us home won’t stay hidden for long.