Chapter 2

2

SIXTEEN MONTHS AGO

M ikhail's green eyes took in the rebel encampment, the flickering firelight casting eerie shadows across his face. He pulled the cloak tighter around his shoulders, concealing his face and warding off the chill. He reminded himself not to worry about his face revealing his true identity. The fae glamour completely obscured his features.

He clenched his fists, sharp claws digging into his palms. The pain grounded him, a tether to the physical world when his mind threatened to spiral into the abyss of guilt and regret. How many innocents were suffering because of his deception? How many loyal subjects mourned their fallen king, unaware that he walked among them, hidden behind a veil of magic and lies? And what was worse, his own brothers believed him dead.

The thought of Brax’s and Z’s grief twisted like a knife in his gut. But the attacks on their royal family had grown too frequent, too calculated, and Mikhail knew the only options left to him to ferret out the killer were drastic. If ordering my guardian angel to kill me counts as drastic, Mikhail thought sardonically.

He poked at the fire with a stick, missing the hell out of his best friend. It didn’t matter that she was a secret from his brothers and the rest of the world, she wasn’t a secret to him. And giving up his crown meant giving up Sabre as well. He only hoped it wouldn’t be for long.

“My Lord,” whispered a voice from the shadows.

Mikhail let out a weary sigh, his breath visible in the chilly night air as he turned to see Shiloh. The royal guard had been a member of the Demon Horde under his brother’s leadership for years. Unfortunately, her death and subsequent resurrection had been needed to pull off his plan. It was one hell of an IOU.

Shiloh emerged from the darkness. The dhampir’s icy blue eyes flickered with concern as she approached. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice laced with worry.

He shook his head, answering honestly, “No, I'm not.”

Shiloh nodded understandingly. “It's been a difficult week since your, uh, reappointment .”

Mikhail snorted. “That’s one way to describe it. And it doesn’t feel like a week. It feels like a lifetime.”

Shiloh squeezed Mikhail's shoulder in support before stepping back. “My Lord …” she began again.

Mikhail held up a hand. “You have to stop calling me that. The name is Hound now.”

Shiloh grimaced. “That’s going to take some getting used to. I’m not going to lie.” She briefly considered him before saying, “Although it does help that you look like an entirely different person.”

“I feel like a different person,” he admitted. Silently adding, I just hope I don’t forget who I am or what I’m fighting for. Gone were the fancy suits and the jewel-encrusted crown that had marked him as ruler of Purgatory. Now, he wore tattered leathers and a hood.

“We received word that there may be a possible witness to your uncle’s murder,” Shiloh stated, her tone cautious.

Mikhail's interest was immediately piqued. “Tell me more,” he demanded eagerly.

Shiloh explained about a troll overhearing a centaur talking about a mermaid who had heard from a water dragon that a mysterious goblin was seen running through the forest behind the castle just after the murder of his Uncle Yuri.

“I know it doesn’t sound that promising,” Shiloh acknowledged. “But you did say you wanted to be informed of everything. No matter how unlikely.”

“On the contrary. Goblins, centaurs, and mermaids? What could be more promising than that?” His sarcasm was not lost on the pretty guard, and he felt like shit when Shiloh’s shoulders slumped. “Damn, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Shiloh promised.

But it wasn’t. Not at all. Just because he no longer had his arse on the throne didn’t mean he could act like a dick. “Where’s the troll?” he finally asked. “I want to question him.”

“He’s about three hours away in Ashfield. His daughter is having a baby shower tomorrow,” Shiloh explained. “Gary, the troll, called in the tip to the rebel hotline.”

Mikhail sighed, rubbing his temples. He'd only been the rebel leader for a week, and already he felt like he was drowning in a sea of absurdity. A rebel hotline? What next, a secret handshake and decoder rings? “I can’t believe we have a rebel hotline,” Mikhail muttered, thinking about how much enjoyment his cranky, snarky guardian would get out of that when he told her.

“It’s kind of funny,” Shiloh acknowledged. “But also effective. Sure, most of the calls are useless. But we could just get lucky. Like with Gary.”

“The troll,” Mikhail supplied.

Shiloh nodded and grinned crookedly. “Right. Gary, the troll. He was the sixty-eighth caller today.”

“Sixty-eighth?” Mikhail repeated. He didn’t know whether to be appalled or hopeful. Curiosity getting the better of him, he said, “Okay, tell me about some of these other tips we've gotten.”

Shiloh's eyes lit up. “Yesterday, we got a call from an old lady claiming she saw the royal assassin hiding in her herb garden. Said he was disguised as a particularly menacing basil plant.”

Mikhail stared at her, waiting for the punchline. When none came, he asked, “And?”

“Well, we sent Gretchen to check it out. Turns out, it was the lady’s scarecrow.” Shiloh pursed her lips, struggling to maintain her composure. “When Gretchen informed her, our tipster was relieved because she thought the assassin must have been getting a cramp, what with standing so still for so long.”

Mikhail groaned, his head dropping forward when Shiloh started laughing. “Well, I'm glad to hear that we can cross a scarecrow off our list of suspects.”

Shiloh hummed, rocking back on her heels. “Something tells me Sabre wouldn’t be too happy to hear she was mistaken for a garden apparatus.”

Mikhail smirked. “You’d be right about that.”

Shiloh knew all about Sabre being his guardian—and his murderer . Keeping the truth hidden was impossible, considering Sabre had dragged the dhampir’s soul back into her body. Mikhail rubbed unconsciously at his chest. Just a week ago, a gaping hole had been there, his heart destroyed by a cross-bolt, and his blood spilling all over the throne room's floor. He hadn’t been conscious or aware when Brax discovered his body. And for that, he was selfishly thankful.

Shaking off his spiralling thoughts, he looked at Shiloh. “Spread the word to the others,” he commanded softly. “We’re leaving at first light to crash a troll baby shower.”

Shiloh grinned, tossing him a salute. As she disappeared into the shadows to carry out his orders, Mikhail felt a glimmer of hope ignite within him for the first time since his ‘death’. Maybe Gary would hold the key to unravelling the mystery of who was trying to destroy the line of Cerberus. Maybe he would be back with his family, begging forgiveness from his brothers before another week was out.