Midnight Fae Academy Book Three - Lexi C. Foss Page 0,2

up to fail from the beginning by this very Council commanding that Shade bite her. All because they wanted to use her as bait.

And now that she’d been taken, they were quick to assume she was aiding the Quandary Bloods on their quest for resurrection. The Council claimed there was only one avenue that made sense—seek and destroy.

I tried to argue that it would cause political strife with the Elemental Fae. I also pointed out that she hadn’t shown a single inkling of supporting the Quandary Bloods and that perhaps she’d been kidnapped or taken against her will.

The Council and the circle of Midnight Fae Elders ignored the latter. Then my grandfather—who had taken Lima’s usual seat for the meeting—stated that the Elemental Fae wouldn’t be a problem. His offhanded commentary reminded me that this was the Council who had killed Aflora’s parents and kept it hidden for fifteen years. They didn’t care about fae politics. It was all just an act before, one meant to place Aflora at the center of a trap.

My blood boiled, and the inky lines on my arms writhed with discontent.

This was my future—the council I was born to lead.

And I realized as I walked out of the room that I hated every single one of them, including my father, who called my name to stop me on the threshold.

I almost didn’t listen.

But a nudge from Shade had me turning around to face Malik Nacht, the Elite Blood King. My father. The man in charge of the Midnight Fae Council. The man I had idolized all my life. I’d spent years trying to win his favor and make him proud.

And for what?

To lead a council of murderers.

The sudden clarity clouded my thoughts, blackening my mood and causing the source to swirl inside me, anticipating my growing need for retaliation.

My father frowned as though he could sense it. “Are you all right?”

No, I am not fucking all right, I thought. “I’m fine,” I said instead. “Just irritated over the situation.”

My father snorted. “Aren’t we all?”

“You should be irritated,” my grandfather said, stark accusation darkening his tone. “Aflora is your ascension trial, yes?”

“Yes,” I agreed, my fingers curling into fists at my sides as he came to stand next to my father. The two men bore a similar resemblance, their ageless features the same as my own.

Auburn hair.

Golden irises.

Regal bone structure.

We all resembled brothers, except my grandfather held an ancient gleam in his irises that only seemed partially formed in my father’s and was entirely lacking in my own.

“Constantine,” my father said, always referring to my grandfather by name in formal situations such as this. Considering this was only my fourth time actually meeting the patriarch on my father’s side, I should probably adopt the same habit.

This man wasn’t family so much as a legacy.

I wasn’t even sure where he lived. All the Elders disappeared into their own quadrants of the realms, some choosing to play with humans more than their own kind.

Others fell into deep slumbers for countless years or centuries.

Immortality came with perks and consequences.

“I believe we need to have a further conversation on what happens when an ascension is failed,” Constantine continued, his eyebrow cocking upward, daring me to argue.

“I haven’t failed yet,” I replied, matching his haughty tone with one of my own. “Now, I don’t have time to waste on a hypothetical discussion. I have an Earth Fae to find. So, if you all will excuse me.”

I didn’t wait for them to reply.

I also ignored my father when he tried.

And instead walked straight into a portal with Shade at my side.

He punched in the destination—Midnight Fae Academy.

Seconds later, the gates revealed themselves to us along the Academy’s gothic exterior, and Shade faced me.

“Zakkai has Aflora,” he said before I could question him about her location. I’d assumed this whole time that he’d just hidden her in one of his infamous shadows.

“Who the fuck is Zakkai?” I asked.

“Her Quandary Blood mate.”

I’m naked.

Normally, that thought wouldn’t bother me; Earth Fae frequently roamed around without clothes.

But the silky sheets caressing my skin didn’t belong to me. Nor did the subtle aroma of the ocean tickling my nose.

Zakkai.

I recognized his essence all around me, could feel his Quandary powers tickling the hairs along my arms in an attempt to seduce my magic into coming out to play, and could taste his familiarity on my tongue. For a month, I thought he was a figment of my imagination. However, he’d left me clues to the contrary—clues I’d