Midnight Fae Academy Book Three - Lexi C. Foss Page 0,63

a bolt of energy that knocked me out of my chair.

“Let the show begin,” Constantine announced.

Several Minutes Earlier

If Emelyn Jyn could breathe fire, I imagined she would be doing that right about now. She’d refused to acknowledge me since arriving, her anger palpable and, frankly, exhausting.

I had no patience for it.

If she unleashed WarFire on me again, I’d return the gift in the form of an inferno. I didn’t want to be here anymore than she did. And I’d tried all week to convince my father to allow us to go separately. Alas, he’d refused.

I searched for him, wondering if what I felt earlier had been a fluke. But he was nowhere to be found.

Another oddity.

My father was never late. And neither was my mother.

“Have you seen Mum today, Tray?” I asked softly, taking in the modernly decorated space. Our mother had chosen all the fixtures for this meeting room—one that our family rarely used. It was meant for Council business that couldn’t take place at the main compound. And once a year, we all gathered here prior to the Blood Gala while we waited for our cue to enter the grand ballroom.

Untouched flutes of blood-infused champagne sat along a serving bench at the back wall. A few were also placed on the oak table, but all sixteen chairs were vacant, everyone choosing to stand instead.

My brother shook his head. “I haven’t heard from Mum all day. And it’s a bit weird that she’s not here yet.”

“Indeed,” I agreed, stroking my tie. “Perhaps we should go…” I trailed off as Shade entered the room in a proper suit. My eyebrows flew upward. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He’d never attended the Blood Gala before. As luck would have it, he chose to be here tonight. Good. We needed to talk.

I caught his eye and started toward him, determined to have a word, but his father stepped between us. “Is there something I can help you with, Prince Kolstov?”

“You can help me by stepping out of my way so I can talk to Shadow.”

“It’s all right, Father,” Shade drawled. “This conversation has always been inevitable.”

His father sighed. “All right. I’ll be over here if you need me.”

“Of course,” he replied, causing me to frown at their bizarre exchange. They were usually at odds with one another, not operating on the same team.

It left me wondering if the information about Zenaida was true. “Did you really give up your grandmother’s location?” I asked him, not bothering for a soft tone.

“The Council has known my grandmother’s whereabouts for years,” he replied. “So yes, I did, but not recently.”

Okay. I’d… missed something. Something vital.

I glanced around again, this time taking in the tension of the room. And the increased presence of Warrior Bloods—something I’d thought was meant for protection but now suspected served an entirely different purpose.

“Oh, what have you done, Shade?” I asked, noting the expressions of all my fellow Councilmen.

Even Lima appeared grim.

But Emelyn stood beside him with an expression of confusion that rivaled the looks worn by Tray and Ella.

“They know everything,” Shade drawled, sliding his hands into his pockets and leaning against the wall in the picture of comfort. “They know you’ve bonded to Aflora. Just as they know she’s been with Zakkai this whole time. And right now, your grandfather is using your Guardian to locate them at the party. Because they also know they’re here.”

“They’re here?” I repeated, my eyebrows lifting. The rest was, well, catastrophic, but the thought that Aflora was here… Oh, fuck.

Shade nodded, confirming my darkest fear. “You see, I’ve been reporting to them from the beginning. Because it was what they asked me to do. And it’s my duty as the future king of my line to do right by my faction. Just as it was your duty to do right by all of Midnight Fae kind. But you’ve failed. Rather epically, if I’m being honest.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. This wasn’t the Shade I knew. It reminded me of that sensation I’d picked up from my father earlier, only it didn’t seem to be consuming Shade in the same way.

“Anyway, I tried, Kolstov. But you kept taking every wrong turn. I really was left with no choice. Maybe one day you’ll understand. Assuming you survive the descension.”

“Descension?” I understood the term, at least on principle. But as far as I knew, it’d never been done. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, he’s very serious,” my father said as he entered the room, that bizarre energy