Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,115

this fight. I wanted to reclaim this castle and this city as mine.”

Confusion stormed across Thane’s face before it hardened into stone. “Dalais.”

She nodded, bracing herself. “That’s right. I’m the true heir to the throne.”

With a low growl, he lifted his sword and strode toward her. “That’s where you’re wrong, Mariel Dalais. I’m the High King of this court, and you have committed treason.”

She fell to her knees before him as he rushed across the floor. This was it. The end of it all. Only seconds sat between her and death. She cast one last glance behind her at the throne, the one that should be hers, and she waited for the sting of steel against her neck.

43

Reyna

“Reyna,” Lorcan hissed. “Can you do it?”

She wet her lips and considered their position. The wood king was all the way across the hall. There were dozens of guards between her and them. That wouldn’t matter if the Ruin turned its sights on him, but if it wanted to battle with her instead, they’d only be even more trapped than they already were.

“Not yet.”

Molt’s eyes narrowed into thin slits. “Can you do what? What are you whispering about?” An eerie laugh slipped from his parted lips. “Are you trying to scheme against me? Don’t bother. Neither one of you stands a chance. Not as long as I have Unseelie’s powers coursing through my body, and you have nothing.”

But they didn’t have nothing. And the wood king didn’t seem to realize that.

Slowly, Lorcan lowered his sword to the floor. Wild fear tangled inside her gut. She hissed at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“He has Nollaig and Seg.”

“But you can’t—”

“You would do the same thing. For Eislyn.”

Her heart thumped. He was right. Dammit.

With a sigh, she dropped her sword to the floor. The guards quickly surrounded them, roughly tying their hands behind their backs and shoving them toward four cages that shifted into view from the shadows. Nollaig and Segonax sat in two of them, faces bloodied but alive.

Another illusion then. The king had been hiding these cages from view all this time.

“Your Highness.” Nollaig dropped her cloaked head into her gloved hand. “You shouldn’t have done this. He’s only going to end up killing us all.”

“I will never sacrifice you just to save myself, Nollaig,” he said through gritted teeth, shooting the guards a glare when they shoved him forward.

Reyna was silent. She kept her eyes glued to the wood king’s face, curious. He’d clearly set this trap for a reason, but why? The last time ‘Lorcan’ had stood before him, the wood king hadn’t hesitated even a moment to bring his sword down onto his neck. He wanted the throne’s power, a power he couldn’t have as long as Lorcan lived. So, why was he throwing him into a cage instead of killing him?

Molt’s eyes sparked with intensity as he watched his guards push her into a cage with Wingallock clinging tightly to her shoulder. They shoved Lorcan into the one next to hers. For a moment, she dragged her gaze away from the king, latching her eyes on Lorcan. He trembled with anger. His muscles tensed. His jaw rippled from the force of his clenched teeth. When he caught her gazing at him, his face relaxed. He shook his head, a signal that she understood in an instant. He didn’t want her to do anything reckless. Ha!

“Right.” The wood king sighed, leaning against one of the many black stone pillars. Rings glinted on his fingers with gems of crimson and ebony. He curled his hand around a goblet that sloshed with wine—or blood. His lips curled into a relaxed smile. He was enjoying this. “I see we’ve all finally joined the party. Welcome to my court. I realize I misspoke before. This is no longer the Shadow Court. Now, it’s the Court of Blood.”

Reyna rolled her eyes. “Of course it is. You know nothing of nuance.”

He arched a thin brow. “And the Ice Court is a nuanced name, is it?”

“Not really, but I didn’t name it.”

“And what would you have called your dear home if you’d had the chance?”

“The Court of Shards I Can’t Wait To Stab Into Your Heart.”

He blinked, and then chuckled. “That’s oddly specific.”

“And accurate,” she said with a vicious smile. “Did you know that ice can create deadly weapons? Deadly enough to kill a wood king.”

He pushed away from the pillar, waving his hand dismissively. “You and your misplaced moral outrage bores me. Guards, bring me