Clav

Ulna retrieves me the next morning, taking me straight to the guest room and letting me bathe in the shower, urging me that I don't have much time. I peel my sweatpants off, stiff from last night's cum, glad when I step under the hot water and feel the grime of prison wash off me. I quickly lather my body up with the soap, then wash my hair and rinse it all off.

Fuck it feels good to be clean again.

A pair of jeans and a Jurassic Park t-shirt are waiting for me when I step out. A gentle warmth nudges me. Of course—of course Aden would remember my love for Jurassic Park. Did he go all the way to the human realms to get these? I pull the clothes on—which fit me better than Aden's clothes did—while peering out the wall-length window at the massive city before me. Jawbone City looks larger in daylight. I can see better how the buildings are pale beneath the eternal gray clouds above, almost like they're truly made of bone.

True to its name, Jawbone City actually has the L shape of a jaw if you were looking at it from the side, with the Skull Palace sitting at the corner. The buildings on the south are smooth, with pale rounded roofs, all built in a straight line toward the western horizon. At the northern end of the city, the buildings become more jagged, with spires and steeples, like sharp teeth. To the left of the city is a giant field of rolling hills that must have been green at one point, but now is nothing but dried dirt and brown, dead grass, due to Mother Terra's curse.

Beyond the city, mountains span the horizon. Large mountains that seem to be breathing as they slope into the valley. The mountain become more jagged the farther they get, until way, way out in the distance, standing taller than all the jagged mountains in front of it, is the Heart of Faerie, smoke pluming out of her crater. I shudder and turn away, remembering the reason I was brought here.

I'm not merely a prisoner Tarsus intends to torture. They need me to talk to this…goddess who rules the planet, apparently.

A goddess who loathes humans.

When I step out of the room, I'm escorted by two guards, neither of which is Ulna, through the large hall, down the flight of stairs, and into the banquet hall.

I know today is going to be different from the last meal when I note the large table set with plates and silverware before every chair. A fire burns in the hearth, and in the far corner, a group of humans play an upbeat tune on the fiddle, a tin flute, a mandolin, bodhrán, and a guitar.

Aden sits at the head of the table across from where Tarsus usually sits, instead of his usual spot at Tarsus' right hand side. He doesn't look like he slept much last night. For a split second, fury sweeps through me at the memory of the way Tarsus spoke to him, ordering him to leave the room. To leave me.

"Aden," I breathe. Crossing the room, I sit beside him and reach toward him. He offers a small smile in greeting. "You look…tired."

He snorts, that adorable dimple appearing with his smile. "Thanks a lot."

"I mean…did you sleep at all?"

He chews his lower lip, studying me closely. "Tarsus told me what they did to you. How they…fucked your mouth." Genuine concern fills his eyes, his brows furrowing. "Are you okay?"

Heat blooms in my face and I look away, dragging a hand over the back of my neck. I'm okay. Better than okay. I fucking loved it. But how do I tell Aden that without sounding like a desperate whore? Still, I don't want him to worry.

"I…enjoyed it." I release a short laugh, my face heating profusely. "I know, that's sick, but—"

"It's not sick at all." Humor dances in Aden's eyes, his teeth flashing white with his smile. "It's what you're into, and I support that. I just want to make sure it was…somewhat consensual."

I shrug. "I didn't fight them. Not really. I didn't want to, because deep inside, I knew they would have stopped if I had."

He tilts his head, his clover-green eyes shining. "They would have," Aden says. "But I wasn't sure if you knew that."

I jerk my chin at the book by Aden's plate. "What book are you reading?"

His eyes light up, and he barks out a laugh. "You've been locked up in a freezing fae prison, in a foreign land, for two nights. You have scrapes on your body from a bat king and my partner fucked your mouth. And you want to know what I'm reading?"

I bite down on my own smile threatening to appear. "I mean, I guess we could talk about how many stones make up my cell, if you want."

"Gods, no." His eyes soften. "But I'm glad to see your sanity is intact."

I clear my throat. "I've been moved to the VIP quarters of a fae palace, how could I not be alright?"

He snorts. "Oh my god, . You can't keep hiding your fear behind that adorable smile and dumb jokes."

"My jokes aren't dumb."

"Right. Okay. Well, you might want to reign it in, because we are having some guests today."

"Guests?" My knees begins bouncing nervously as I glance at the set table again, the servants bringing out large platters of food, some of which I recognize, some of which look foreign to me.

"Just…some close friends who used to know the real you." He shrugs. "Who knows? Maybe seeing them will spark some part of your memory."

Somehow, I feel like this will be more of an interrogation. Still, I'm glad I have Aden on my side, that at least one person here will have my back.

"Well, do I look okay?" I quickly tug at my shirt.

Aden huffs out a laugh and combs his fingers through my hair, which is still wet. "You look great, Sweetie."

His pet name warms me to my core, and heat floods my cheeks. The look in his eyes tells me that, despite everything that's about to go down right now, he's on my side.

The doors burst open and Tarsus strides in, resting bastard face locked in place. Their antlers are polished, every branched end tipped with silver caps and decorative chains linked between the antlers. Their long plum colored robes fringed with silver threads flow around them as they sit down at their end of the table. I notice their makeup is on point today. They donned shimmering smoky eye-shadow, a slash of dark kohl lining each eye.

"Aden is still convinced you're innocent," Tarsus snaps as a greeting, looking pointedly at my missing finger. "Despite your missing finger." I tuck my hands under the table, as if to hide as they meet my gaze again, their own eyes accusing. "The Cadre will be able to help convince Aden that this is all an act." Their smile is a cold slash of white teeth. "Be prepared to meet some very old friends, icle. The oldest being Wolfsbane."

"Wolfsbane?" I ask.

"Ring a bell?" Tarsus asks darkly, but I shake my head.

"They're the Sovereign of the Terra Empire," Aden clarifies. "They're also responsible for killing the late Solar Sovereign, who was on his way to conquering all Five Empires and enslaving all its inhabitants." Aden's face turns cold and rigid as he looks at his plate. "The Solar Sovereign had Sovereign Wolfsbane locked in a temple for half a century, only planning on letting them out when he needed a bride. The day he planned on taking them to bed was the day Wolf cursed him, ending his life." He swallows hard and meets my gaze. "Wolfsbane saved us all from complete conquest from the Solar Folk."

"Yeah," Tarsus mutters, jaw clenching. "By selling their soul to their Shadow. Now we have Wolfsbane to fear instead of Elderberry."

It's clear I'm not the only one on Tarsus' hit list.

"You know they would never harm us," Aden says, sliding his gaze to Tarsus'. "I have a bit of that Shadow Magic within me too, Tarsus, and it hasn't changed my character."

I look between them, wondering what this Shadow Magic is that they speak of, and what Aden means when he says he has it too. Because I doubt humans could possess fae magic. So maybe it's a metaphor. But before I can ask, a black seam, like the one that opened at the Bone Bed & Breakfast, appears. First as a black crackling line in the air, then slowly expanding to an oval.

A portal.

The first person to step out is a lean woman with brown skin, long, black braids interwoven with gold threads. She wears a scaled red top that covers only her breasts and black leather pants that fit to her legs like a second skin. Her abs and biceps protest against her smooth brown skin. I saw her that day at the battle just before Tarsus was about to end me. She was the one who brought Aden.

She grins at Aden, nods courteously at Tarsus, but when her eyes meet mine, a hardness replaces any of the joy. I suck in a sharp breath at the predatory gleam that radiates from russet eyes—complete with elongated pupils. She offers a feral smile that's all teeth—and fangs. Fangs that gleam from between those blood-red lips.

"Long time, no see, traitor," the woman says, her voice a near-hiss as she glares at me. "Why isn't he tied up?" she snaps, looking between Tarsus and Aden.

My body grows cold at the vitriol in her voice.

"He's mortal, Ash," Tarsus says, glaring at me. "He can't do jack shit."

"That's what he wants you to think," Ash seethes, looking back at me, as if expecting me to wield some sort of magic that would take them all out. "Where's his obsidian dagger?"

Tarsus heaves out a sigh. "Some place he'll never find it."

"Who are you?" I dare to ask.

She runs her eyes over me, her top lip curling over her teeth. "As if you didn't already know, icle."

"She's a vampire," Aden tells me. "There are only two of them int his realm. Ash, and her brother, Cinder, who lives in the Solar Empire." As if I need to cram any more information into my mortal brain. "We're unsure whose side he's on—ours or Baneberry's."

Side. I'm still confused about the bigger picture here, beyond stopping the volcano from erupting. Abaddon said something about a battle in the valley on the foot of the volcano, and how the Solar Sovereign lost. These must be the victors.

Ash's grin broadens so I can see the elongating canines, as if she were preparing to suck my blood. My body stiffens, the prey in me trying to decide whether to run or try to appear brave.

"Gods, Ash. Stop trying to scare him," Aden says to Ash in bored annoyance.

"It's not like he's scared, Aden." Ash glances at Aden, her canines disappearing back to wherever they came from. "Besides, wasn't the plan to scare him shitless all along?"

"Don't worry," Aden says to me with a roll of his eyes. "Vampires like Ash don't feed on humans. They crave magic blood. More specifically, Shadow blood. So long as you remain human, Ash will have no desire to feed on you."

Not sure how that's supposed to make me feel better.

Ash's nose scrunches. "Feeding on humans is like feeding on mud compared to heady wine."

Didn't Aden say he possessed this Shadow magic? "So…do you crave Aden's blood?"

Ash's eyes shift to Aden, her tongue wetting her lower lip, but she shrugs and pulls out the chair across from me, on Aden's left side, and sits down.

Aden stares at her, a brow arched in question as if he'd never considered that. "Well?"

She grins wildly at him and winks flirtatiously, but doesn't respond. He opens his mouth to say something, suddenly looking guarded and…a little terrified.

"Ash…"

Before she can respond, another fae steps out of the seam. This one is a tall, curvy fae with a crown of silver twisted vines perches upon their head. Their brown hair is long on top and shaved at the sides, with the long part braided down their shoulder. They wear leather armor over a jungle-green tunic that does little to flatten their generous breasts, and leather boots are laced to their knees. A green cape woven with leafy designs is clipped to their shoulders. Everything about them screams boldness, authority, a force to be reckoned with.

But what really makes chills spider-walk down my spine are their eyes, completely infiltrated with black as they assess me. They're not glossy, but seem to absorb the light of the room, kind of like charcoal. Still, as I look deeper, I notice white specks, like stars, dancing within those depths. I draw in a sharp breath and try to calm my rapid heartbeat, because one look in those eyes, and a coldness I have never experienced in my life seeps into my bones.

"That's Wolfsbane," Aden mutters at my side. "The sovereign of the Terra Empire, who sold their soul to their Shadow so they could curse the late Solar Sovereign. They're one of our greatest allies." He shrugs, and I barely see a ghost of a smile appear on his face. "We might have fucked a few times, too."

I nearly choke on my own saliva. "Impressive." My brows rise. "How many sovereigns have you fucked, Aden?"

He snorts. "I mean, do you count? If so, then two. Then the prince regent, Tarsus. And I also have an ongoing, casual relationship with Ash, the vampire." He winks. "No big deal."

"My. God." I laugh and shake my head. "You are truly living the fantasy bookworm dream."

He tucks his smile between his teeth and laughs, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. "Yeah. I am. But you fucked a bat, so…"

Across the table, Tarsus—who has apparently been listening to our conversation—bristles, glaring between both of us. "Will you two quit comparing which monsters you've fucked?"

The table grows quiet, my face heating with embarrassment. Then, finally, Wolfsbane breaks the silence.

"Apart from your pink hair, absence of antlers, and your rounded earlobes," Wolfsbane says, their voice firm and commanding as they take the seat at the center of the table, beside Ash, "You look exactly the same as when I last saw you a century ago."

A century ago? I would laugh if I wasn't fucking terrified with their attention directed at me right now.

More fae slowly pile in through the seam, all taking their seats while Aden continues with the introductions. A muscular man with copper skin and wavy black hair that falls down his broad shoulders sits on Wolfsbane's right, next to Tarsus' left. He's shirtless, and wears a gold choker that matches the gold bands bracing his arms and wrists. His tunic is finely woven black fabric threaded with gold trim. Gold eyeshadow is expertly painted on his lids, matching the gold dust smeared across his high cheekbones and lips. Leaning back in his chair, he tilts his head and smirks at me. He is beyond a doubt the most beautiful male I have encountered.

"Hemlock," Aden tells me. "He's the youngest Solar Prince, but left his empire to join Wolfsbane's court as their partner. Goes by he or she, depending on the day."

"It's he today," Hemlock says, his voice simultaneously smooth as honey and deep as gravel. "And welcome home, icle. I hope we can continue on as friends and not enemies, despite our last meeting."

I would ask what our last meeting entailed if I didn't think they'd all laugh in my face and call me a liar for pretending to forget my past life.

"Hemlock nearly became the Solar Sovereign after the last battle," Aden is saying, "but handed the title over to his brother and the true heir, Baneberry, when he swore his service to Wolfsbane."

Aden gestures toward the curvy woman taking her seat on Tarsus' right-hand side. "Hemlock's older half-sister, Evergreen, is the Lunar Sovereign."

Indeed, across from Hemlock, a woman with long black hair that falls down to her waist takes her seat. A lotus blossom is perched in one ear. She wears a silver ringlet that bears a crescent moon at the front.

"How is she Lunar Sovereign, if she's the sister of a Solar Prince?" I ask quietly.

"When the last Solar Sovereign took over the Lunar Empire decades ago, he used the Lunar Queen to bear heirs that would bear both Solar and Lunar blood. Evergreen is half Lunar fae, half Solar fae. But as the oldest daughter of the late Lunar Queen, she is the rightful heir to the throne. Once Wolfsbane killed the Solar Sovereign, the powers and title fell to Evergreen."

Evergreen is staring at me with dark brown eyes, assessing me. In fact, everyone here is measuring me up with their accusing glares and curious glances, like they're trying to decide whether I've truly forgotten my past, or if it's all a ruse to get my powers back and wipe them all out. It's clear I'm not welcome in this space—they look like they wouldn't hesitate to rip my throat open if I said one wrong word.

The next person, or maybe I should say beast, to step out of the seam is a—a Minotaur.

"Kunak," Aden gestures toward the beast with a massive bull's head, his large horns tipped with gold and a brass ring in his nose. He nods in greeting and, somehow, I can see a small smile on that bovine face. "He's the general of the Lunar Armies that fought in the battle against the Solar Folk."

I have always had a strange fascination with Minotaurs, and having one stand before me now…I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "Do you sleep in a normal bed, or do you prefer a barn full of hay for your quarters?"

Wide eyes turn to me for my rude and intrusive question directed at a gods-damned general, and I can feel heat crawling up my throat, pooling in my cheeks, but a low laugh rumbles out of the Minotaur.

"I think I like you, icle," Kunak says in that deep, blood-warming voice. "You get straight to the point."

A smile tugs on Hemlock's full lips as he studies me. "Good start so far."

I don't think any of them know that I'm genuinely curious.

"Shiloh," Aden continues with the introductions, dipping his chin toward a slender woman with light blue, iridescent scaly skin and short white hair that almost appears to be glowing. She wears a sheer, sea-foam gown that does nothing to hide her supple breasts.

"We Aqua Folk prefer grottos to beds," she says with a sly smile. Her voice is unearthly, musical, and light. "In case you were wondering." She plucks a live fish from the bowl before her and drops it down her throat—and I shudder at how each of her teeth ends in sharp points.

"And that's Aaliyah." Aden gestures toward the last faerie who steps out of the seam—a muscular woman with dark brown skin, long dreadlocks, and—are those bear's legs? They're thick as tree-trunks and covered in fur, with dark talons peeking from where her toes should be.

"What did I miss?" she drawls, offering a big grin that reveals bear-like canines. I shiver as she jerks out the last remaining empty seat—right beside me, and hunkers down. My back tenses as the smell of forests and rain infiltrate the air around us.

"icle was just inquiring about our preferred sleeping arrangements," Hemlock says, tilting his head, one shaped brow raised and a mocking grin on his face. "Perhaps so he would know where to find us when he wants to kill us in our sleep."

My face heats up, no doubt turning the same shade as my bubble-gum hair.

"Ah," the bear-woman, Aaliyah, says, looking down at me with a feral grin. "Well, in my current form, I enjoy the plush beds most fae indulge in. But during the month of the Bear Moon, I much prefer the caves deep in the Lunar Empire mountains to fae beds."

The Bear Moon. "Are you, like, a werewolf?"

She growls gently, sharp fangs bared. "Were-bear. Our kind are much more civilized than those dogs who spend most of their time fucking and pissing on every landmark like a bunch of hormonal preteens."

A snort erupts from Ash. "And that's why we love you, Aaliyah. All dignity and grace."

Prince Hemlock shoots a ball of fire into the dying hearth, igniting a new flame. My breath is caught in my lungs at the casual display of life-threatening magic, but I somehow keep my composure, despite every nerve in my body telling me to run. I mean, I've already been fucked by a bat-king, been chased by a dog-sized tarantula, been imprisoned and fucked by a bone fae, so how much worse could this get? The sweat prickling at my spine tells me it could be a lot worse.

I nervously shove my glasses up the bridge of my nose, my foot tapping anxiously on the marble floor. "So many…creatures."

Aden takes my hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Think of every mythological creature we've ever learned about in the human realms. Most of them, if not all, are real, all from different realms in the universe, many of whom live in this world."

I shudder, but say, "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you all." I hate how timid my voice sounds, even to my own ears. "I'm…I prefer to go by ."

Hemlock snorts, then leans back in his chair, hooking his ankle over one knee. "What's with the pink hair, ?"

I reach up and run my fingers through my hair. I must look ridiculously fruity among these warriors. "I…Um…."

"I like it," Shiloh, the slender woman with blue scaly skin and short white hair says. Her voice is silky and light and cultured, and even from here, I can smell the salt-sea air that seems to radiate off her body in waves. "Bright colors suit you, ."

"You let him come with no shackles? No copper collar to negate his magic?" Wolfsbane cuts in with a deep, authoritative voice, inky black eyes assessing me in a way that makes me want to disappear.

"He's not dangerous in his human form, Wolfsbane," Tarsus says quietly, and they look pointedly at Wolfsbane's hands. "He's certainly less threatening than you are with your Shadow Magic."

"Enough," Hemlock says shortly, the snap in his voice making me flinch. "We're not getting into this again." He glares at Tarsus, and gold flakes, like embers, seem to emanate from his dark eyes. "Wolfsbane made their choice, and thank the gods they made the right choice, or my brother would be ruling all of us right now."

"If it weren't for Wolfsbane's Shadow," Aden adds, "we would have lost that battle last week."

"Don't slight yourself, Aden," Wolfsbane says, and somehow, I can read the fondness in those star-flecked black eyes of theirs. "You were as much a part of taking down Baneberry's armies with your own fiddle and magic. We all know I couldn't have done it without you."

There they go about some battle again. I cling to every tidbit they offer, trying to put the pieces together.

Wolf pins me with those black eyes that seem to absorb the light like the night sky. "Welcome home, . Let us speak to one another as equal sovereigns, as the friends we once were, and not the enemies we could become, hm?"

Sovereigns. That's what I am here—a wicked king. But I have to prove to them that I'm not wicked. I can't tell them I don't remember anything, they would laugh in my face. Based on Ash's greeting earlier, I'm under the impression that nobody here trusts me, and in order to earn it, I will have to be as easy going and compliant as possible. I have to show them they can trust me.

"I come in peace," I dare to say, looking around the table. "I don't want a war. I don't want to harm anyone. All I want to do is return home."

"Like hell we'll give you the throne," Hemlock snaps, those gold-flecked eyes staring me down.

"That's not my home." I force confidence into my voice, because holy hell these creatures are huge and muscular, dominant and terrifying. Not only the way they appear, but their entire countenance demands submission. Power.

So. Much. Power.

"I want to go back to the human realms. That's my home."

As I speak the words, I realize just how much I miss home. Nothing sounds better than a mundane job—hell, I'll even take my shitty job at the diner—and late night movies with Dad on the couch, a bucket of buttered popcorn in one hand and a fireball in the other. Give me the un-extraordinary life over this any day. I always thought stepping into a fantasy novel would be the best thing that could happen to me, but, well, it's been four days here and I'm done. Tired.

So. Fucking. Tired.

Wolfsbane's lips part in a gasp. "You want to live with…humans?"

"What's this?" Aaliyah, the bear-woman drawls with a booming laugh that makes me flinch. "Did you already break him in, Aden?"

Tarsus takes a deep drink from the chalice before them, then slams it on the table, glaring at me. "He's pretending he's forgotten about being a Spine Sovereign, or that he had a life as a fae at all. He's pretending like the only life he's ever known is his human life."

"And you don't believe him?" Kunak asks in a low voice, the ring in his nose catching the light.

"Hold up both hands, icle," Tarsus orders, "Fingers spread."

A stone forms in the pit of my stomach at the realization of what they're doing. If I had any hope of making these feral beasts back me up, it'll be gone now. Releasing a shuddering breath, I splay both hands before me, uncurling all…eight fingers.

An audible gasp ripples across the table.

"I made him swear that he didn't remember a thing of his past life as a fae," Tarsus says, their silver eyes like ice chips. "The next day, he lost that pinky."

Shiloh, the scaled woman, releases a hiss of disapproval. "I'm changing my mind about your pink hair," she seethes, baring all those sharp, pointed teeth. "It's hideous."

"How'd he lose the other pinky?" the Minotaur asks. His voice is the deepest one here, like the lowing of a bull.

"I visited him in the human realms and made him swear never to come back here." Tarsus gestures with long, jeweled fingers. "As you can see, that swear was broken that very day."

My mouth is bone-dry. I pick up my chalice and take a deep drink, but—fire. Fire pours down my throat, wracking my lungs, and I set the chalice down, coughing.

Hemlock smirks. "As if you didn't inhale Bane's Brew like it was oxygen back in the day."

"Is there any water?" I ask between coughs, my lungs burning. Thank God a fae servant brings me a mug of water, and I chug it down.

"Whether or not he remembers anything," Aden snaps, coming to my defense. "Bane's Brew is too strong for any human, even me." Aden looks at one of the servers. "Please bring plain human red wine."

I look around the table, feeling out the crowd. Tarsus is smirking. They clearly wanted to see me sip that poison, see my reaction. It was a trick. Did they think I would chug the whole thing down without noticing it was faerie wine? Will everyone here be as hard-assed as Tarsus? Or would some of them believe me, like Aden? Shiloh—the scaled woman—and Aaliyah— the bear-woman—both look skeptical. I cannot tell what the Minotaur is thinking with his black eyes and bovine features. Wolfsbane actually looks like they might believe me, as does Evergreen, but Hemlock and Ash both bear a look that says if I even try to convince them that I'm not the king I once was, I might as well sentence myself to death.

Thank god, platters of food are brought out. Hog meat, spiced potatoes, buttered rolls. Everything on the plate is practically the same color. "I take it you all don't eat vegetables here?" I look at Tarsus. "Leafy greens?"

Their fork freezes midway to their mouth. "In case you've forgotten, there's a massive volcano erupting, covering our land beneath a giant cloud of smoke and sprinkling the land in ash. Even if there wasn't, Mother Terra cursed our land from the ground up. Our vegetables have rotted with all the other greenery." They stuff that bite into their mouth and chew furiously while glaring at me, then they pick up a glass and take a deep drink.

"Oh. I see." I pick up my own wine after the servant sets it down, desperate for something to ease the awkwardness filling the room.

"All of this is your fucking fault," Tarsus snaps, setting their glass down and fiddling with their napkin. "If you hadn't given Mother Terra the taste of one-hundred humans on her fiery tongue at once, she might not be this demanding."

"Tarsus—" Aden begins, but I cut him off, wanting to hold my own.

"I'm innocent," I seethe, my fist tightening around my fork. "I'm not the same person—"

"Innocent?" Hemlock chokes out an arrogant laugh, his teeth bared in a feral smile. "You led an army into battle to kill your own step-sibling just four days ago." He gestures with his hand, the gold brace on his wrists flashing in the light. "That was a choice you made in this life, so even if you're telling the truth about not remembering jack shit from your past, you are still an enemy."

Tarsus takes another long drink, finishing off their drink, then slamming it on the table again and gesturing for a refill from one of the nearby attendants. "I would think even the dullest minded human would know better than to interfere in a war they know nothing about."

"My mother told me they needed me."

"Ah, yes." Ash leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her bare, muscled abdomen. "Mandi. Your bone-witch aunt."

Aden tilts his head to the side, studying me. "Why did you follow Mandi back here if you had no memories of this place? Especially after you learned they'd been lying to you your whole life?"

The reminder of my own mother lying to me my whole life stings like a fresh wound. He has a good point. Why would I believe anything Mandi said after all the lies? After they practically dumped me at the bat colony, leaving me to fend for myself on the battlefield?

"My mom—I mean, Mandi—told me I was a fae prince, and I thought it was some sort of surprise birthday party."

Ash snorts. "A fucking what?"

"A…D&D themed birthday party. For me." I realize now how dumb I was to think that. I'm fucking twenty-three years old, and besides that, Mandi never threw me a birthday party. Told me birthdays were insignificant reminders of being dragged into this world. I realize now, this world meant the human realms. It's almost as if the reminder of the day that they were stuck there with me was too painful to celebrate.

"Christ." Aden drags his hand over the back of his neck.

"I followed my mom—I mean Mandi into the forest," I say, "and when they stepped into the bog and didn't return, I got worried and went after them. The water pulled me under, and I re-emerged in this world with a much younger version of my mother standing before me, telling me I had to help the bat folk."

Aden straightens.

"Mandible could have brought you here a lot sooner and told you everything," Wolfsbane says, studying me closely. "Mandible could have raised you as yourself. But they didn't. They chose to lie instead. So why believe them about the bats?"

"You think I haven't been thinking about that every hour in my cold-ass cell?" My hands curl into fists on my thighs, and I'm glad the table hides them. "Everything happened so fast—I didn't exactly have time to contemplate any of it before Mandi told the bat-guard to take me to the caves."

That anger, that all-too familiar fury continues to build deep within me until I taste fire, but I refuse to let it blind me. My anger will only prove that I should be chained in the dungeon. Unlike our last meal together, I intend to behave so they'll bring me out more. So I focus on the music, on the humans playing across the room. The performing humans finish their Celtic music and some leave the room, but the three with the tin flute, bodhrán, and violin stay and play another song to a more upbeat tune.

"I thought you freed your humans," I say, wondering if these folks, too, have lied about freeing the humans.

"They are free," Tarsus mutters, glaring at me with cool silver eyes. "We pay them just like we do all our other staff."

"Oh." Guilt is a nasty thing, pooling in my chest like tar. "Why don't I ever see fae playing the instruments, then?"

Aden snorts as he chews his food, and Wolf, Tarsus, and Hemlock all cast him a glare.

"What?" I ask.

Aden swallows that bite, then says, fighting a smile, "Fae possess elemental magic in this world that humans could never compete with. But when it comes to the arts, they don't have a lick of talent."

"Careful," Wolf mutters, a sly glint in those midnight eyes.

"What?" I ask, looking around the table, but not one refutes what Aden is saying.

Tarsus rolls their eyes as they lift that second or third cup of wine to their lips, but they don't say anything.

"Yeah," Aden says, green eyes shining as if he finds this little bit of information incredibly hilarious. "The fae are six-to-seven feet of lean muscle and flawless skin, the folk are beasts with curling horns or massive bat wings or devastatingly beautiful scales." He gestures at the Minotaur and Shilo. "All these creatures have one-hundred years to every human decade to their lives, but they can't write a fucking poem to save themselves. Can't even learn to play Mary Had A Little Lamb on a gods-damned recorder."

Holy shit. A chuckle bubbles out of me when I glance at Tarsus' annoyed frown while they stare at their food, chomping on a slice of meat.

"So, like, books?" I glance around the table. "Surely you all know how to read."

"Of course we do." Hemlock rolls his eyes, a muscle in his jaw working. "The fae and folk write plenty of books on history."

"Yes, historical accounts. Outlines. Facts." Aden's eyes are shining, as if half the beasts and powerful fae at this table couldn't rip him to shreds with half a thought. "But when it comes to writing creatively, they're lost." He smothers his smile with his fist, as if this were a sore subject between him and these fearless warriors. "Still, they enjoy the arts more than your average human. Give them a novel and they completely lose themselves for days." Aden takes a sip of his own wine. "You should have seen Wolfsbane when I lent them their first spicy novel. It was the first novel they ever read and they ate that shit up in hours." He stuffs a bite of potatoes into his mouth.

"It was the first thing that made me warm up to you," Wolfsbane says, that fondness once again filling their black eyes as they smile at Aden.

"So…what are the Five Empires?" I ask, taking this opportunity to learn more about their world.

Tarsus snorts and mutters, "As if you didn't already know."

"There's our neighboring Terra Empire," Aden explains, "which sits west of us, right on the other side of the volcano. That's the one Sovereign Wolfsbane rules with their partner, Hemlock. The Lunar Empire is a frosted-over winter wonderland up north, ruled by Sovereign Evergreen. The Solar Empire is located south of us and has more of a Saharan Desert vibe. It's ruled by the heir, Sovereign Baneberry, now that his father is dead. Then there's the Aqua Empire to the east, which is actually really cool." He gestures excitedly with his hands. "The empire is made up of a chain of islands in the ocean, and the Aqua Folk are similar to merfolk who can also take the forms of humans."

"No shit."

I look at Shiloh with a whole new fascination, and the vain mermaid gleams with the attention, her iridescent blue-green scales shimmering as she props her elbow on the table and plants her chin in palm, preening as Aden talks about her and her empire.

"Yeah." Aden's eyes are shining with excitement now. "There are pirates there, too. It's like Neverland."

The smile is wiped off Shiloh's face. "Nasty fuckers won't leave us the fuck alone."

Aden meets my gaze. "There are so many creatures roaming the Five Empires, it'll blow your dick off."

I have the sudden urge to explore this place, to travel, to meet more creatures like the ones before me. Aden makes this place sound less like the war-torn nightmare I stepped into, and more like a children's adventure book.

"And the fifth empire?" I ask. "Is this one?"

Tarsus makes a sound in the pit of their throat and rolls their eyes again, clearly agitated with my pretending like I don't know anything.

Aden nods. "This is the Spine Empire, which you're supposed to be ruling, but Tarsus is working as regent until, well, I guess until you become fae again."

I spin to Tarsus, my curiosity piqued. "So…how do I become fae again?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't tell you," Tarsus seethes, their frown deepening.

"Weren't you the one who banished me to humanhood? Couldn't you, like, remove the banishment?"

They still. "Returning you to your fae form could very well erase the innocent human boy you claim to be." They tilt their head, offering a cold smile. "We wouldn't want that, now would we?"

A chill shudders through me. I imagine my true self being locked in the mind of that cruel Spine Sovereign, the Prince of Ruin, watching helplessly as he tosses innocent humans into the volcano.

"No," I whisper, leaning back in my chair. "I don't want that." What I want is to return home and not fear that this furious, powerful fae within me would take this body back, either killing me completely, or locking me up within his sick mind.

"So, ," Hemlock says, taking a sip of Bane's Brew. "Explain to me why we should believe that you're telling the truth about not remembering your life as a fae."

"Would it matter?" I huff out a laugh. "I've already turned into the four-fingered wonder." I lift both hands, eight fingers spread.

Hemlock releases a smooth chuckle, tilts his head, and gestures with jeweled hands. "Humor us."

A test, I realize. This isn't so much of an interrogation as a test to see if I'm telling the truth. My foot bounces on the floor and I chew my lower lip. What do I say to a group of fae and folk who used to know me? Who have already decided I'm guilty? My best answer lies in being myself.

"My favorite movie is Jurassic Park," I begin with a shrug. Because what better way to make these creatures know the real me than a few facts about myself? "I had a fascination with dinosaurs since I was a kid, and always wanted to be a paleontologist when I grew up." I show them the tattoo of a velociraptor skeleton on my forearm. "Unfortunately, math and science aren't my strong suits, and I failed out."

"Tell us something no one else knows," Shiloh sings in that unearthly voice.

I gnaw on the insides of my cheek. "I'm legally blind in one eye. My left eye. Can't see jack without my glasses—just blurry objects."

Tarsus winces, no-doubt remembering how they took my glasses from me, but Ash is grinning wickedly.

"Okay," the vampire says, russet eyes glinting. "I like you. You almost have me convinced."

"So are you going to have the balls to face Mother Terra?" Wolfsbane asks. "I should warn you, the goddess has been in a mood since my last encounter with her over a week ago."

I blink at my half-empty plate. "I…" How do I tell them I have no interest in facing down this wicked goddess? I was brought to these realms unfairly. I have no ties here. Why should I be the one to risk my life for these people?

"He is still deciding if we're worthy comrades," Aden cuts in, and I give him a grateful smile. He scans the others, a half-smile on his lips. "So, you all better behave."

The others chuckle.

"What about jokes?" Evergreen's silky voice breaks through the silence. She's hardly spoken at all. Her voice is light and smooth, like snow falling on a quiet forest. "Aden mentioned you are quite the comedian."

Oh. Oh, gods. "Oh, um, yeah I don't have any great jokes," I snort and cast a silent glare at Aden, but he only grins at me.

"Go on, ," he says. "Tell the one about the cow."

I stare at the hog meat. All eyes are on me now, and any attempt to divert the conversation will only go over awkwardly. Best to get it over with.

"What do you call a cow without any legs?"

Kunak, the Minotaur hums in thought, and I flinch. Maybe this wasn't the best joke to tell at a table with a half-bull. But the joke's already out, and they all look stumped, waiting for my answer.

"Ground beef." I pause, expecting anger, embarrassment on their behalf. But to my utter astonishment, laughs explode across the table, Kunak laughing the hardest, his lowing rumbling through the room. That joke wasn't even that funny. Maybe jokes are another one of those creativity things that fae and folk lack.

"Another one," Hemlock orders, eyes shining.

Crap. "Um, what do you call a fish with no eyes?"

"What?" Shiloh asks impatiently as she pops a raw minnow into her fanged mouth.

"Fssh."

This one takes a moment, but then they all erupt into laughter. These are, like, the corniest jokes, but you would think by the way they were rolling that I was America's Top Comedian.

"Okay," Wolfsbane says, and this is the first time a genuine smile crosses their features. "I'm sold. There is not a hint of Sovereign icle in this young boy's character."

Young boy. While they all look the same age as me, I forget that, besides Aden, these folk are over a century old.

"What?" Tarsus seethes, looking around the table. "Two jokes, and you're all falling for his act? Am I the only one who remembers what icle did?"

Hemlock immediately stops laughing. "We remember, Tarsus. But we're not convinced this is that same icle. Perhaps once he was, but…" the Solar Prince jerks his chin at me. "Look at him. He's all awkward human innocence and cringe jokes."

My mouth drops open in mock offense. "You all are the ones laughing at this cringe joke."

"I'm not fully convinced," Shiloh says.

"I don't think any of us are fully convinced," Hemlock adds, studying me with those gold-flecked amber eyes. "But there is a certain innocent charm about you, ." He looks at Tarsus. "Have you shown your guest his own city? Maybe that will help jog his memory."

"You think it would be wise to release him in the wild?" Tarsus asks.

"I'd put a solid copper collar around his throat," Shiloh mutters. "But maybe seeing his own city will help him remember why it's worth saving from Mother Terra."

Aden nods. "It's not a bad idea, Tarsus."

Tarsus stares at me with cool silver eyes as they take a sip of their wine. "I'll have to think about it."

The evening continues on, the group urging me to tell a few more jokes, each worse than the last, and finishing up with the talking biscuit joke, but they eat the jokes up as if they'd never heard a proper joke before.

"What do you call a dog with no legs?" I ask. Silence fills the table as they all think of an answer, coming up with none. "Nothing. It won't come anyway."

More laughter, and now I'm thinking they're all just drunk at this point.

"Oh my gods, ," Aden is saying, beaming now. "You are killing it with the incurable dad jokes." His green eyes are shining, and the smile on his face warms my heart. I take another sip of my wine, finishing it off, and scan the table. I can see now, what Aden sees in these fae and folk. Now that they're not all assessing me, judging me, I can see why Aden would rather live in this world than the one we were born into.

There's no judgment here among the friends. Just raw acceptance, the sort you should find among your own family. And I realize that's what these folks are to Aden: his family. Especially since his own family kicked him to the curb.

Tarsus, however, is the only one not laughing. They stare at me from the head of the table, cool silver eyes holding enough hate to poison. I almost feel bad for them. They invited everyone over to back them up. Instead, I've slowly won them over.

As the laughter dies down, Tarsus says, "It appears I did you a favor in sending you off to the mortal realms." They tilt their head, the decorative chains on their antlers gleaming in the light. "While your people have been picking up the pieces of your terrible rule, and while humans slaves from your cruel reign have had to learn to live as equal citizens, you've been off in your own world, learning idiotic jokes and watching movies about prehistoric beasts."

Guilt clutches my chest, but I fight it off. No way in hell is he blaming me for something I didn't do.

Fuck. This.

"Don't even try to paint me out like that bad guy, Tarsus. Perhaps the past icle was some evil tyrant, but I've done nothing wrong." I stand, tilt my own head, offering a cold smile. And maybe it's the wine but I say, "You banished me, Tarsus. Remember that. You banished me to live as a mortal in the human realms. And I realize the banishment was supposed to be a punishment of sorts, that you wanted me to live a miserable existence stuck in a human body, trapped among the mortals I apparently hated so much. And I'm so fucking sorry that I ended up having a happy childhood, surrounded by peers who adored me, and having no memory of this sordid place." I wet my lower lip with my tongue. "But maybe you have yourself to blame for messing up your own lousy banishment spell." My teeth bare, my heart pounding in my chest. "If it makes you feel any better, my whole existence has been a fucking lie because of you."

A muscle in their jaw works as they, too, stand, hands splayed at their side, palms facing me as if preparing to catch a ball I'd throw. That's when I see it—their palms glowing like white orbs, lightening crackling between his fingers.

I stumble back, but my heel catches on the leg of the chair and I fall back, hitting the ground with a thud. I figured Tarsus had some sort of magic. Obviously, they banished me. But seeing it now—seeing the bright, white light emanating from their palms, growing brighter and brighter as they speak—I'm having trouble catching my breath.

"You brought this upon yourself," they say, slowly walking around the table toward me. And I swear, lightening crackles within the depths of their silvery eyes like electricity. "I cursed you in order to defend myself and my kin and the entire Spine Empire. If you need someone to blame for your sorry existence that was all a lie, look in the fucking mirror."

My heart is pounding, my mouth glued shut as I stare at them, this regent, this royal who clearly has some sort of magic and wouldn't hesitate to use it to kill me.

I look at their hands again, where the white orbs laced with lightening are growing as they pull their hands back, ready to strike, and I automatically lift my arms to defend myself, as if that would do any good. My heartbeat pounds against my eardrums, and I want to run but my body remains frozen in place as I stare at their hands, the growing orbs, the impossible magic before me.

"Tarsus." Aden rounds the table and places a gentle hand on Tarsus' arm, as if to calm them. "We need him, remember?"

Tarsus' straight nose scrunches slightly, the electricity in their eyes slowly dying as they lower their hands, white orbs disappearing. Their eyes remain guarded, as if they expect me to suddenly remember everything and finish whatever I started before they cursed me.

I take a measured breath and lower my trembling hands.

"My apologies," they say flatly, not a hint of apology in their voice. "But I still have nightmares of you, icle."

I almost laugh. They have nightmares of me? How do I tell them they haunt my dreams every night?

"I knew you would come back sooner or later to reclaim your empire," they say. "I heard Abaddon was sending creatures to the human realms, hoping they would lure you back so you could take back your Spine Empire, and for the past twenty-three years, I have been looking over my shoulder, waiting for you to return and stab me in the back."

I swallow the thickness in my throat. "Abaddon's bats have been coming to our house for years. My dad calls them demons from hell."

"The bats believe your return is the only thing that could save the empire from the volcano, apart from Aden's death," Wolfsbane explains. "And maybe they're right. But to Tarsus, the wrath of the volcano was a safer bet than you coming and razing all Five Empires to the ground in your quest for power."

"That's why I went to your realm and warned you to stay put," Tarsus says.

At the Ren Faire. I shudder, remembering how I thought they were nothing more than a jealous partner, a harmless fellow human with an impressive costume, who wanted me to stay away from their boyfriend. Even when I thought they were human, they looked powerful, no match for my wiry form.

"You expect me to believe that you thought I could bring you down, much less bring down the Five Empires?" A laugh bubbles out of me. How remarkably insane. "You're hardly a victim, Tarsus. You had your tarantula chase me for your own personal entertainment."

Their mouth clamps shut. They drag their long fingers down the length of their face.

"I'm not angry by nature, icle. But gods. The things you make me feel. The rage you bring out of me." They choke out a laugh and lower their hands from their face, looking at me with tired eyes. "You've been nothing but a fucking thorn in my side since you came here."

"Then let me go."

"Where? To your precious bats, so you can help them kidnap Aden and sacrifice him to the volcano?"

"Home. To the…mortal realms."

Tarsus bares their teeth. "I already did that, and you did a shit job staying away."

I finally find the courage to stand from the floor, lifting my chin to meet them. "Why do you hate me so much, Tarsus?" I ask, hating the rawness in my voice. "Let's say I don't remember. State exactly what it is about me that pisses you off so much just to look at me. Because I seriously have no idea what I did to deserve all this."

A laugh of disbelief escapes them. "Besides getting your bats to attack me?" They take three strides toward me, and for once, I don't back down. "You fucked me over, icle." They jab a long finger into my chest, their nose inches from my face. "You used me. You hurt me. And just a few days ago, you set out to kill me. Nothing you can say or do will change who you are deep inside."

They're breathing hard now, nostrils flaring, and I'm pretty sure I see tears blur in their pupils.

They truly are hurt, because of me. For the first time since I met them, I don't fear them so much as I feel sorry for them. For whatever my past-self did to them. Because the cut I made was deep and left a scar I'm not sure will ever be healed.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Tarsus."

"Don't fucking say my name." They lock eyes with Ulna and make a signal as they turn away from me. "Take him back to the guest room, but guard it carefully."

Still a prisoner, then, despite how I was able to make everyone else here warm up to me. Ulna's arms are on me in a moment, and I don't put up a muscle in resistance as she leads me out of the room. The others watch me warily, some, like Wolf, with pity in their eyes, others, like Ash, looking at me like I'm getting what I deserve. Aden mutters something to Tarsus, placing a calming hand on their shoulder, and the fae regent buries their face in their hands.

I return to the guest room, stomach full, emotions depleted, but ever so grateful that I won't be stuck in the prison this time.

I could have behaved. Could have sat there silently while Tarsus berated me. But I just had to open my damn mouth and let that furious inner voice speak.

The truth is, I don't want to be rude. I don't want to always be on the defense. I don't want my anger issues to get the best of me, just because I'm over tired and confused.

This isn't who I am. I'm generally a patient guy. I usually try to see the best in everyone and am quick to overlook any offenses against me. It's what got me through high school unscathed. But if the people I knew back home could see me now—running my mouth against a powerful fae regent who apparently has some sort of magic—they'd either be impressed or embarrassed for me.

But as furious as Tarsus makes me…there's clearly some trauma buried deep within them, and I trigger that trauma. Because, by their quiet demeanor, I'm guessing they're pretty chill, too. We rub off on each other like a match across sandpaper. They still see me as the Sovereign who tried to kill them. But I know…I know that once they realize I'm not that person, they'll treat me differently.

It's just a matter of showing them who I truly am.