Tarsus

On the day I banished him from the fae realms, I desperately hoped I'd never have to lay eyes on Sovereign Clavicle again. I truly wanted him to live a long, mortal life stuck among the humans he loathes so much.

And then I wanted him to die with them.

It was a good punishment for the things he did, the people he hurt. A clever punishment.

But coming face to face with the Prince of Ruin now, with his piercing gray eyes locked on mine, makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end. My chest tightens with fear—and something else I dare not hearken. I clench my fists at my side to stop their trembling while attempting to summon the courage I promised I would exude if I came face to face with my step-brother-turned-lover-turned-enemy again.

Despite him being transformed into a short, weak human with ridiculous pink hair, Clavicle looks almost identical to the fae version of himself. The version that fucked me for ten wonderful years…before fucking me over. Considering his thirst for human blood, he seems to be enjoying himself quite a bit for a fae surrounded by humans at a silly festival. The smile behind his eyes almost looks genuine.

But he's always been good at lying.

Aden fell for the act of the cute pink-haired man who reads the same monster-fucker books Aden does. And, honestly, I can't blame Aden for falling for the act, despite the many warnings I gave him. He didn't know the version of Clavicle that I knew. Aden never saw Clavicle's brilliant smile while he shoved innocent humans into the pit of the active volcano, laughing chaotically as they screamed to their deaths before the lava boiled them alive. Aden didn't witness the many times Clavicle would sit on his Throne of Bones—which was constructed from the bones of human slaves—and sweetly invite a courtier he didn't like closer, only to plunge his obsidian dagger into their chest, making their bodies turn to ash and dust.

Aden didn't witness Clavicle storming into the throne room all those years ago, his father's severed head clenched in his fist with fresh blood still dribbling from the jugular as he marched to the Throne of Bones to claim his spot as king.

I never told these details to Aden, because I didn't want him to cower in the presence of Clavicle. Clavicle would enjoy that too much. For the brief time the Prince of Ruin knows Aden, I want him to see the brave Aden I know.

But this. This lousy, nervous wreck of a human standing before me…has Clavicle honestly become this pathetic? Or is it just another clever act of his? Though I can't completely lie to myself. That tight fitting vest and low cut button-down are…mouthwatering to say the least.

"Um," Clavicle's nervous chuckle brings me back to the present. He shoves his black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose with his knuckle while fidgeting from foot to foot, as though he were nervous. The very thought almost makes me laugh. Almost. "I think you might have me confused with someone else?"

My brows pull down, my teeth grinding together until a headache brews. I haven't seen the bastard in twenty-three years, and this is how he greets me? Like he doesn't even know me? His whole playing-dumb-act is almost convincing.

"Cool costume, by the way." Giving an awkward smile, he stuffs his hands into his pockets and turns to leave—the coward—but I clamp my hand on his shoulder again and spin him around with ease, taken aback by how fragile he is in his human body.

"Bro!" His gray eyes flash in fear—he should be afraid—and he jerks his shoulder away. "Do you need something?"

I'm not used to him being this…weak. He's usually taller than me, his antlers bigger and thicker than mine, his power as a king and sovereign drawing the attention from everyone around. But even as a lanky human, he's still attractive in his own way, bearing that same fierceness that drew me to him in the first place.

He stands up straighter, as if that does any good. As a fae, I'm a full foot taller than him, and my antlers have another twelve inches on top of that.

I fold my arms over my chest and huff out a laugh of disbelief. "Clavicle. Sweetie." I arch my brows in mock pity. "Don't try and convince me that you've forgotten."

He runs his eyes over me in a way that appears to be full of awe, but I know it's only meant to be insulting. "Forgotten what?"

I tilt my head and offer a lethal grin. Fine. I can play along. "That you're the Prince of Ruin who promises just that. Ruin." Like you ruined me. "That you killed your own father, skinned him alive and stretched his skin over your battle drum. That you sacrificed humans to the volcano as your primary source of entertainment." I shake my head, arching both brows pointedly. "Any of that ring a bell, Babe?"

"Don't call me that." His face scrunches with disgust, as if being my babe was the worst thing that could possibly happen to him. But there's no denying the blush that tints his cheeks, the pleasant surprise that ignites in his eyes when I called him babe. It's what Aden always calls me, and I thought, what the hell? I'll play around with this traitor, since he's clearly playing around with my boyfriend.

He glances around, his lower lip pinched between his teeth, clearly nervous. The way his tongue juts out to wet his lips makes my cock twitch. Gods-dammit. I was supposed to be over him by now. Especially after what he did to me. It's been twenty-three fucking years, gods-dammit. But there's no denying that every night since that awful night that I banished him, Clavicle has haunted my dreams. And my nightmares.

"Is this some sort of role-playing shtick that I'm supposed to just go along with?" He chuckles, like he's nervous, and runs his fingers through his hair. I noticed a tattoo of some beast's skeleton printed on his arm. "Yeah, I'm, like, really not into role-playing. Sorry, man." He starts to turn again.

"Clavicle, stop." My commanding use of his name stops him in his tracks, and he turns to look at me.

"It's Clav." He says with a bite sharp enough to slice iron. He tilts his head, gray eyes hardening. On anyone else, that tilt of his head would look like confusion. On him, it's deadly. "And who the fuck are you?" He looks me up and down—and this time there's no mistaking the insulting way he assesses me. "Some overdressed compilation of Gandalf and Bambi?"

My mouth drops open. I can feel my brows climb up my forehead as I stare down at him "Clav, huh?" I ask, deciding to humor him. Because, gods, maybe I like pretending like he truly is an innocent human and not some evil king bent on power and revenge. "You shortened your name."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Your ex." My fists clench. "Whom you tried to kill."

He chokes on a high-picked laugh. "Bro. You're high." Seriously, now he's trying way too hard to make me believe he's not the bastard I know he is. "Probably should go home and sleep off some of that weed, huh?"

What the—

He turns and strides away from me, but I'm not letting him go so easily. I came here with words that need to be said, and I'll say them, dammit. Trotting to catch up, I fall into step beside him. By the way he shakes his hands by his side, as if resisting throwing a punch at me, I can tell I'm finally getting to him. Good. He must be nervous that I'll blow his cover. Sorry, bro, it's already blown. Everyone in the fae lands knows he's a liar. Still, it's a smart move for him to walk away. He knows if he chooses to fight me in his mortal form, he's not any better than a squashed grape on the bottom of a boot.

"Your life seems perfect here, Clav. Simple." I gesture with long, jeweled fingers, attempting to keep my voice calm to show him that I'm not looking for a fight, just a bargain. "Stay home, little king, and enjoy the life of ease in the mortal realms that have been gifted to you."

"Great. Thanks for the advice, Merlin."

"It's ," I say with a huff. "And I know Abaddon is sending his folk to bring you back, but you needn't return. I have everything under contro—"

"Wait, what?" He stops short, turning sharply to face me, and there it is—that same cold rage I saw in his eyes all those years ago when he tried to kill me. "You know about them coming to my house?" His voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. "Are you—are you in on the prank?"

"Prank?" Okay, this is getting old, and my patience is wearing thin. "Listen here, you little shit." I jab my finger into his chest, surprised when he stumbles back so easily. Gods, he's so fragile, but I can't let his weakness fool me. "Don't come back, because if you do, you'll not find any mercy from me the next time I see you. Actually, you know what? I hope the bat-folk come back and convince you to return. Because then at least I can kill you without breaking my bargain to leave you alone as long as you stayed in the human realms. Did you actually think that you could fool us?"

He stiffens. "Us?" His hands clench into fists at his sides as he bares his teeth, and there he is. The Prince of Ruin, the King of Destruction, ready to destroy the world. I'm not sure whether to be relieved or terrified. "Look, I get it." He punches each word out. "Pranks are fun. Ha ha. Let's visit the local haunted house and aggravate the old man who lives there, who thinks he's a demon hunter. I get that it's funny to you and your pals." He jabs his finger into the center of my chest so hard that it's my turn to stumble back. Damn, I didn't know his human form could possess that sort of strength. "But you better stay the fuck away from us, or it will be the police you'll deal with. Understand, Babe?"

"I'll stay the fuck away," I say, smacking his finger off my chest. "Only if you stay away from my boyfriend."

He releases that high-pitched, clueless laugh again. "Bro, I don't even know who your boyfriend is."

"I believe you met him this morning. He goes by Aden."

His gray eyes begin to simmer like steam over a geyser, his mouth dropping open, then closing, then opening again.

"He's a part of this too?" His voice is lethally low now. Heart-pounding, labored-breathing, fist-clenching rage comes off him in waves. It would make me cower if he had any of his fae powers. But he doesn't. He's cursed with a weak human body and not a weapon to his name. His eyes dart around the faire, as if looking for Aden. So he could kill him, no doubt.

"If you touch him," I warn, "You'll be dead before you can blink."

His feral eyes meet mine, and he bares his teeth. "Stay the fuck away from me."

"Quit pretending to be a clueless loser. Gods, surely even your human father raised you better than be a chronic liar."

His eyes darken. "Don't talk about my father."

"I suppose he's not your real father, is he?" I look him over and curl my lips in disgust. "Since you're a bastard-born--"

He pulls his fist back and throws a punch, and though I flinch, I grab his wrist mid-air, my own irritation slipping as I squeeze his mortal arm until he winces. I'm sure I'll leave bruises. Gods, I would break him if it wouldn't cause a scene. Still, he needs to know how much stronger I am than him, how he should certainly not cross me in his human form. I squeeze harder, twisting his arm until he falls to his knees. His face is bright red now, a sheen of tears blurring his pupils while he glares up at me through those black-rimmed glasses, teeth bared. And I almost feel bad for him. I do. Because I catch a glimpse of the boy I used to know, the boy I fell in love with before he sold his soul to his Shadow.

It's an act. And I'll not have my heart broken by him again.

I bend down until I'm inches from his face. "There you are, Sovereign Clavicle," I mutter in his ear, a sneer tugging at my lips. People are stopping to stare now, clearly wondering if we're putting on a show or if this is a real fight. "I knew you hadn't forgotten." His face scrunches up in pain. I might be crushing his bones, I don't know, and I don't really care. "If you have any slice of humanity in that mortal body of yours, stay the fuck away from the faerie realms, stay away from me, and if you care anything about your own life, stay the fuck away from Aden."

When I release him, he curls into a ball. "Okay." His whimper makes his fear almost believable. "I—I'll stay away. Christ."

But that's not good enough for me. I hunch before him and jut my pinky in front of his tear-streaked face. "Pinky-swear."

His eyes flash to mine in disbelief. "Are you for real right now?"

"Pinky-swear, or I swear to gods, I'll fucking end you—"

His pinky quickly curls around mine, and I try, really try, to ignore the jolt of excitement from his mere touch. "I pinky swear I'll stay away from…faerie…or whatever the fuck it is."

That magic zaps between us, making him flinch, and I jerk away. "Good." I stand. "Then I'll hope to see your dead, mortal body at your funeral in, say, how long do humans typically live? Ninety years? Whatever. Have a good life."

Spinning around, I stalk back into the crowd. My heart is beating like a drum in my chest. When Clavicle threw that punch, it must have triggered some deep-seated fear of him, because I flinched even though I knew he had no powers, no fae strength to speak of.

I walk faster, humans parting to make way for me as I leave this overcrowded place. Every nerve in my body demands I go back to Clavicle, apologize, beg him to return with me. My heart tells me he's changed, begs me to give him one more chance.

But I've been burned by Clavicle before, to the point that life didn't seem worth living anymore. Not until Aden showed up in my life and rescued me from complete self-destruction. No, I can't afford to buy Clavicle's clueless act for a second. Him making that pinky promise instead of fighting back just now was foolish, but hey, if he wants to risk losing an appendage just to prove something to me, have at it.

It'll be a hell of a lot easier to take him down when I come face to face with him in the faerie realms again.