Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,27

your veins.” He leaned closer and took a long drag of air with one flared nostril. “And I can smell it on you.”

Her heart shuddered. She blinked and sat back. “You’re wrong.”

“Hmm.” He tapped her tankard with his fingernail and then pushed it closer. “Just because you don’t know about it doesn’t mean I’m wrong. Maybe it’s time you had a drink.”

Heart roaring in her ears, Reyna curled her fingers around the tankard and lifted it to her lips. The harsh scent swirled into her nose, clearing her fuzzy head. She tipped the liquid into her mouth. It burned all the way down.

“I don’t have Fomorian blood,” she said, wincing as she slammed the cup back onto the table. “Trust me. It’s impossible.”

“And trust me, it is.” He lifted his finger and motioned for Suse to refill their drinks. “I know this, because I have it, too. There are a few others out there like us, mostly wood and ice fae. A result of the trade routes between us and them.”

“But my father—” Reyna quickly stopped herself. It was one thing for this fae to know she was made of ice and quite another for him to discover she was a princess. She cleared her throat. “He can trace our line back centuries. There are no Fomorians.”

He shrugged. “Likely your mother then.”

“But—”

“Listen, I’ll make you a deal. You tell me the truth about why you want inside the army, and I’ll pretend you never put that airgead on the bar. I’ll let you go.”

Reyna drew a shaky breath into her lungs. Despite it all, she might have a chance. Or he might make good on his threat and chop off her head.

Seelie’s magic was keeping her alive, but Reyna did not think the power could heal that.

“You won’t want to let me go when you hear why I’m here.”

He leaned forward, whiskey swirling from his breath. “Try me.”

Reyna’s lips curled as she copied his move. “I want to kill your king.”

The wood fae smiled.

The cart jerked to a stop. The horse neighed as Rhain leaned forward and patted her on the rump. The small display of affection brought a lump to Reyna’s throat. It had been a very long time since she’d seen Enbarr, her loyal mare. She hoped she was not still stuck inside the Air Court stables. Had she managed to escape, like Eislyn had?

“Here we are,” Rhain said, motioning to the dense forest that rose up around them. “This here is the northern edge of the Forest of Thorns. It’s been all but destroyed a few miles south, but up here it’s still intact. You’ll find the back end of the war camp half a day’s walk from here.”

“And they won’t notice a stranger slip out of the woods?” Reyna asked.

“Some of the tents are inside the forest, just along the edge. If you’re careful, no one will spot anything odd at all. You’ll just need to steal some armor.”

Reyna nodded, nervously wetting her lips. This was it. She’d made it to the Wood Court’s war camp despite all the odds stacked against her. Now, all she had to do was the easy part: stab someone.

Preferably the king.

With a nod, Reyna jumped off the cart and into the mud. She pulled down the sleeves of her drab brown-and-green tunic that Rhain had given her to blend in with the trees. Her ice glass dagger was hidden beneath the waistband, and green-dyed mud painted her cheeks.

“If anyone asks, you never met me,” Rhain called down. “And good luck. I long for the days when our people’s blood did not paint our own king’s lips.”

Reyna nodded and took a step off the road.

“One more thing,” Rhain said. “Look into your Fomorian blood. I know you don’t believe me, but I think you’ll find it’s there.”

At that, the cart rumbled away. Reyna shoved aside his words and plunged into the forest. Rhain was wrong. In their library back home, there were tomes upon tomes that detailed the genealogy of the Darragh family. They had always been the kings and queens, the lords and ladies, of the Ice Court. Every single birth was accounted for. No question-marks hung in the ancient parchment.

But her mother…

Reyna shook her head as the underbrush crunched beneath her feet. Her mother had come from a simple family, a clan of ice glass miners who lived at the feet of the mountains far north. They’d lived a quiet life until they’d journeyed to Falias to sell their