Chapter 25

Twenty-Five

brAN

The fae prince, or rather, the bastard prince, charges toward me.

I’m prepared for a hit. Prepared to take the blow in order to distract him in the seconds that come after.

It’s always best to strike a man when he thinks he’s winning a fight. Pride gets in the way. Excitement steals focus.

I have none of those weaknesses.

Except…Maven never reaches me.

Lightning crackles through the darkened sky and thunder rumbles, chasing it.

I run cold, but even I can tell there’s been a precipitous drop in temperature.

Snow swirls in the air.

“Maven!” Mouse shouts.

I dare to look away from Maven and over at my little mouse, but one second turns into two, then three.

She is extraordinary.

Snow and electricity ribbon around her, tossing her hair around her shoulders.

She is the Winter Court Queen finally come to life.

I can’t look away. I am mesmerized by her beauty and her power. And I’m not alone.

At least half of those fighting in the meadow go still.

Until giant icicles start falling from the sky.

They sail through the air with a loud whistle, then hit the ground with a THWAP and CRACKLE.

The earth shakes and splits open. They’re at least twice as tall as me, twice as wide.

Maven has to stagger back when one slices into the ground between us.

“Fall back!” one of the Fairies of Suffering calls. I suspect he’s the one in charge. He commands that kind of attention.

The fairies change their formation, falling back toward the gate into a semi-circle. The icicles are only hitting the meadow.

Mouse is using her power to target Maven.

That kind of control, that kind of precision…

She is more powerful than even she realizes.

That bastard clearly has no hope of making it out of this clearing.

And the second he realizes it, the second he turns his attention toward Mouse.

Maven starts running toward her.

More icicles fall between us.

The icicles create a fence between me and him.

“Mouse!” I shout. “Stop!”

But she either can’t hear me or is ignoring me.

The air crackles around her.

“Jessie!”

Her gaze skitters to me.

Her eyes have gone icy blue.

The fuck. That’s new.

“Pull back!” I yell at her.

She drops her hands, but the ice has already formed, and three more icicles pierce the earth between me and her.

Maven barrels into her.

“Mouse!”

Maven takes her down. I have to sprint fifty feet in the opposite direction to make it around the icy fence and by the time I reach the other side, Maven has Mouse by the throat, hoisted off the ground. Her feet pedal at the air.

“I know you’re fast, vampire,” Maven calls. “But are you fast enough?”

Jessie wraps her hands around his wrist, trying to get some relief from the pressure. Her power has retreated and I know in this moment she’s beating herself up, talking herself down in her own head.

I can practically hear her thoughts.

I’m not strong enough. He’s going to win.

Fuck that.

“How do you plan to legitimize your spot in the Winter Court if you have no queen?” I ask him. “Put her down.”

“I’m sure we can find another way.”

Mouse gasps for air. She’s turning blue in his grip.

I ease forward.

“Stop,” Maven commands. “Don’t come any closer.”

“All right.” I raise my hands. “You have my attention. Whatever you want from me. Just put her down. She can’t breathe.”

“She nearly killed me. I’m not putting her down.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

The bastard prince looks at me. There’s desperation in his eyes. Fear. Dread. Uncertainty. He came here to prove a point and to win and now he’s realizing he night not accomplish either.

There is nowhere for him to go.

“I never wanted the power,” he admits, his voice low and hoarse.

“Then walk away.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

He frowns. “Mother would never allow me.”

Mouse gasps for air. How much longer can she hold on?

“The only thing I can do,” he says, “is prove my worth to the Summer Queen and the rest of the realm.” He turns to Mouse. “And I can do that by killing our greatest enemy.”

Fuck .

“No!”

Maven tightens his grip. Mouse chokes. I calculate the distance between us and it’s too far. He could snap her neck before I reach her and?—

I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Movement behind Maven.

The lithe silhouette of a soon-to-be fairy prince.

Arion appears out of the darkness, takes three long steps forward, raises his blade, and plunges it into Maven’s back.

Maven immediately drops Mouse and she lands with a thud on the grass, choking back air. I rush to her side, take her in my arms, and the relief to have her safe is immediate.

“Are you okay?” I ask her. A bruise has already appeared around her throat and if Maven didn’t already have a blade in his back, he would soon have my foot in his ass.

He coughs. Blood sputters from his mouth and pours from his chest where Arion’s blade has sliced straight through muscle and bone.

Maven staggers around and when he sees his brother, when he realizes the person he thought was his greatest ally has just stabbed him in the back, his knees buckle.

He gasps for air, the sound wet and raspy.

“You don’t deserve the throne,” Arion says through gritted teeth. “And you sure as hell aren’t going to be responsible for the death of my sister.”

Mouse sits up, her body weight leaning into my side. I hear her slight intake of breath and when I glance over at her, there is wetness welling in her eyes.

Her brother came through for her.

He chose her over Maven.

Even though he had more history with Maven, and perhaps because of that, more loyalty, he still chose Mouse, not because of their shared blood, but because it was the right thing to do.

Because her heart is probably the purest out of all of us.

Maven shivers and gasps out another wet breath. “How…could…you?” he says and then falls over face first into the grass.

Arion stares at his brother for several long seconds. I can hear the sharp grit of his molars against one another.

“Help me up,” Mouse says, her voice compromised because of the pressure Maven exerted on her. I try not to let the anger about it take control. Maven is dead and there’s no revenge to have.

My arm around her waist, I help her stand upright. We shuffle over to Arion together.

“I’m sorry,” Mouse says when she comes up alongside him.

“Me too,” he tells her. “But he never would have relented.”

Behind us, the icicles crackle as they melt.

And further out, near the fae gate, the Fairies of Suffering are in formation, watching us.

“Arion?” I say.

He turns slightly toward me but keeps one eye on Maven as if he’s afraid he might come back to life. “What?”

“If we were to appeal to the Fairies of Suffering, what might they want? What do you think the Summer Queen offered them?”

He thinks. The seconds tick by, growing heavier by the moment. The leader of the fairies puts his hand on the hilt of his sword, eyeing us through the melting ice.

“They get their power from suffering,” Arion explains. “It’s where they got their name. If I had to guess, the queen has promised them the suffering of lesser fae. Likely a certain number on every solstice to sustain them for a while.”

I know immediately what I have to do.

“Take her,” I tell Arion and shift Mouse’s weight.

“What are you doing?” She scowls up at me. “Bran? What the fuck are you doing?”

“We have plenty of people on our side, but we need a wild card, Mouse. And stealing the queen’s mercenaries? That’s exactly my kind of move.”

Arion winds his arm around her waist, holding her upright. She tries to pull away from him, but he tightens his grip. “Let him do his bidding,” he says.

“No fucking way.” She looks over at me. “If they feast on suffering, Bran, they’ll—” She catches the look in my eye. “ Bran .”

“Stay put, Mouse.”

I cross the meadow. Our friends have held back, giving the fairies a wide berth.

I stop when twenty feet lies between me and their leader. His eyes are so bright, they’re almost glowing, almost like mine when I’m in predator mode. Any other circumstance, he and I might become fast friends.

“Would you be open to negotiating a new price?” I ask him.

He looks over his shoulder at the rest of his soldiers. “Perhaps,” he says to me.

“The suffering of lesser fae might be enticing, but how about the suffering of an immortal vampire? I heal quickly. I cannot die. Unless you stake me, of course. I offer you myself in exchange for joining our side and forsaking your agreement with the Summer Queen.”

He tilts his head, appraising me. It’s obvious what I am. There’s no doubt about that. But perhaps he’s uncertain just how strong my fortitude is.

“Come forward,” he says.

I don’t fear very much. But the sound of his voice is like the sound of an ancient monster whispering to you from the dark shadows of a bottomless cave.

I once spent thirty-seven days being tortured in the French dungeon of a rival vampire family. Surely, I can withstand some fairies.

I step forward.

“Closer,” he says.

Another foot. Two. Five.

When I am within reaching distance of him, I sense his power. It’s a ripple on the air. Like a magnetic field that raises the hair along your arms, it sends a shiver down your spine.

His dark mark splashing across his face makes his golden eye even brighter.

“Close enough?” I ask.

“Close enough,” he agrees and then plunges a blade into my gut.

The pain is immediate and intense. If you ask me, a gut wound is the worst kind. Like tearing out the roots of your soul through your fucking nostrils.

I’m on my knees before I can gasp out in pain. Blood pours down the front of me.

The Fairy of Suffering sinks to his knees in front of me and hangs his head back. Several tendons stick out from his neck like he’s drinking down the air.

I yank the blade out and list sideways, clutching at my stomach trying to keep my insides from spilling out as my skin stitches itself up. The pain remains for several more heart beats, spreading out like a spiderweb.

When the fairy tilts his head back up, his black mark is moving.

Several tendrils swirl and bend across the bridge of his nose like it’s a living thing just below his skin.

He drags his tongue over his puffy upper lip.

“Delicious,” he says and smiles. “You have a deal.”