Chapter 15

Fifteen

I’m still buzzing from the orgasm Bran gave me in the sauna when I’m ushered into a closed room in the heart of the Pack House.

Everyone is talking at once.

But Bran is silent beside me.

It’s not that he doesn’t have something to say, it’s that he wants to hear all the things that are said.

We are at war with the fae because of me and while the very thought terrifies me, I can’t imagine facing this without Bran. He can be terrifying. And I know he’s more than capable of death and destruction. The only thing that might hold him back is his need to protect me.

He glances over at me as if he can sense where my thoughts have gone. The considerable height difference between us means he has to look down, then down some more. His arms are crossed over his chest, making his biceps bulge against the sleeves of his black t-shirt.

“What are you thinking?” he asks me.

Across the room, Fox, Cal, and three other shifters are in a heated discussion about what they should do about this latest development. A woman on Cal’s left shakes her head at something Fox said. Fox frowns at her. Beside him, a lean man with a big beard and short brown hair scoffs and then gestures to the woman sitting in front of him.

“I’m thinking that it’s too soon,” I tell Bran. “I’m not ready to fight my own brother and I’m sure as hell not ready to fight the queen.”

“Let me tell you a secret, little mouse.” Bran turns to face me, arms still crossed. He dominates my line of sight and overwhelms me with his presence. Will that feeling ever ebb? Will I ever get used to having Bran Duval all to myself? Every taut muscle, every hard edge?

I’m not sure that I’d even want to.

“Okay, tell me,” I say.

“No one is ever ready for war.”

I sigh and roll my eyes because it’s such a Bran thing to say.

“I’m serious.” His arms drop to his sides. “It’s easy to think everyone else knows what they’re doing. But they don’t.”

“But I bet my brother can control his power.”

Fox grumbles at something the bearded man says, and they dissolve into an argument.

“Every ounce of power you possess right now, in this moment, is power you’ve always possessed. Which means you’ve always been capable of controlling it. It’s not a skill you must learn, like writing or stabbing.

“Power is no different than the blood that pumps in your veins and you never have to think about your heart beating for it to work.”

I sigh and scrub at my face. “It’s not that easy.”

“It is. You’re just making it hard.”

“Cal told me that it was supposed to be hard.”

Bran looks across the room at the Alpha currently in discussion with a dark-haired woman half his size. He’s listening intently like what she says matters to him despite him being the one in charge.

“What does a beast know about wielding fae powers?” Bran asks.

“I heard that,” Cal says before turning back to the woman.

Bran ignores the Alpha. “The point is,” he starts, but I cut him off.

“The point is no one here knows what it is to wield fae power. I get it. But there’s something else we’re lacking.”

Bran frowns. “Go on.”

“We don’t understand court politics. Or fae motivations. And while Baspin might be able to help in some ways, it’s Arion who knows the queen better.” I pace to the left, thinking through the situation. “The queen wanted me to marry the prince, which means she needs me, but how far is she willing to bend to get me? I bet Arion knows.”

“Yes, and he is currently on his way to murder us.”

“Arion wants redemption.” I pace back. “Not revenge.”

“Get to the point, little mouse,” Bran says.

“I need to speak to the queen,” I blurt out.

The discussion between the shifters has stalled and they’re all looking at me now like I’ve gone absolutely mad. And maybe I have.

I glance back up at Bran. “Where did Damien take my sister?”

“Fuck no,” Bran says, seeing where I’m going with this.

I give him a gentle poke in the chest and smile innocently at him. “Fuck yes.”

Thirty minutes later, we’re in the basement of Duval House, deep in the recesses of it where the air is cold and wet. I shiver and rub my hands over my arms using friction to warm up.

Do I have to worry about my power if I get too cold? Guess we’ll find out.

Bran leads me down an uneven hallway that’s constructed of old stone. He has to duck to navigate it.

Cal is behind me, with his third-in-command, Keiko, behind him. Keiko is the dark-haired woman who, I later learned, was trying to talk him out of joining this fight. He took her concerns and decided to ignore them. Despite all that, she volunteered to join us, leaving Fox in charge at the Pack House.

“If you’re going to be an idiot,” she’d said, “I’m going to make sure I have your back while you’re doing it.”

I think she’s annoyed with me simply because I’m at the center of his stupidity, but I’m secretly in awe of her.

Who talks to the Midnight Alpha that way and lives to tell the tale?

Keiko, that’s who.

When we reach the end of the hallway, there is a single naked bulb hanging from the stone ceiling and it sends sharp light and sharper shadows around the space.

Two vampires greet us and unlock a thick wooden door, allowing us inside.

Damien is there with my sister. Kelly is sitting in a wooden chair, her legs chained to the floor, her left wrist chained to the wall.

“Jessie!” She lurches upright to give me a hug, like she’s relieved to see me, but the chain is too short and the force of it going taut yanks her back down.

“She’s just pretending,” Damien says. He’s leaning against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over his chest.

“It was worth a shot.” My sister’s face goes blank, all of the emotion gone from her voice.

“Summer Queen?” I ask.

“Where are we, princess?” She looks beyond me to Bran, then the Alpha and Keiko. “I didn’t know the vampires worked with the shifters. Much has changed since the gate was sealed.”

“I have a question for you.” I go to the center of the room where the floor dips down, the stone worn over time.

“Ask it then,” she says.

I try not to get distracted by the fact that my sister is being possessed by a fae queen.

When will Kelly catch a break? Hasn’t she suffered enough because of me?

“Why did you really want me to marry the prince?”

She takes in a deep breath, hands resting on her knees. She considers me for several long moments, and I realize even through Kelly, she can’t lie. It’s why she’s taking her time answering, choosing her words carefully.

“I wish to restore the balance to the fae realms.”

Obviously true if she said it, but it’s too easy, too obvious. There has to be more to it.

And then another truth dawns on me.

If the Summer Queen must speak the truth through Kelly, then perhaps she can also be commanded through Kelly.

“ Tell me why you really want me to marry Maven. ”

It’s easy to tap into my voice. Bran has been drilling the lesson into me for weeks.

It’s not the same power as the frost or the cold, and not nearly so new to me.

And I see the moment the queen realizes her mistake.

Her eyes get wide as the power latches on to her and she’s compelled to answer.

“Maven is a Winter bastard.” She clamps her free hand over her mouth.

“ Tell me more ,” I command. The power radiates at the center of me, warming my chest.

“Arion is next in line for the Summer Throne,” she blurts out. “Which is why I plan to have him killed in this war. And once Maven is married to you, legitimizing his standing, I plan to kill you too.”

“So you can rule both Summer and Winter,” I finish. “ Tell me if I’m right .”

She knows answering is inevitable, but she still fights forming the letters even as she says them.

“Yes.” Her eyes narrow. “I want to rule it all.”

I pull my cell phone from my pocket and stop the recording. "I'm sure Arion will love to hear this."

The Summer Queen, through my sister’s body, grits her teeth and lunges for me.