Shadow Cursed by May Sage Page 0,73

upon my brow.

There are dances and songs despite the terrible losses. We've burned an army of humans, but over a thousand folk are gone. Great folk, gentle folk, soft, sweet folk. Friends and foes. Every single one of them will be missed. We celebrate their lives and scream their true names to the stars.

I dance with my aunt, I dance with my seelie cousin, I dance with my friends, and of course I dance with my mate.

My Drusk.

"You knew," he accuses me, glaring, though there's little heat in his eyes.

I don't have to ask him what he means. "It's not my fault you were slow."

"When did you guess?"

I shrug. "Ten years ago."

Drusk and I sway to the beat of the drum Titus plays better than any unseelie I've ever heard.

"You're wretched. You could have told me."

I shrug. "You like wretched."

He pulls me till I'm plastered all over his hard, bloodstained shirt. "I like nothing about you, princess. I like sunset. I like starlight. I like diamonds and wine. You, I adore."

I get to my tiptoes, and he lifts me the rest of the way, to reach his mouth. I wrap my legs around him and let him carry me to our bed.

Though it isn't quite ours. Whitecroft was never our home. Hardrock could never be either. The Wicked Court of Morgana will be destroyed along with the entire Shadow Peaks, if I have my way.

And I shall. I am high queen.

For one night, I let myself forget about it. I forget about the survivors from the Court of Ash, that I will have to send to trial. I forget about the immortal rotting in my dungeon. Violet is having her fun, torturing him, but she doesn't want to take his life, and for that, I'm grateful.

The last thing we need is to destroy a Vikus and give Alfheimr reason to launch an open war with us. This time, they used humans as proxies, but if we were to kill Ceron and attack first, his father could come at us with all his might.

If war comes to our gates, I'll be there to wage it, but I don't want to risk my people's blood again so soon.

For one night, all that matters is feeling my mate inside me till neither of us can move. And we do just that.

We drag him to the border, bound and blindfolded, and let him go without any supplies. He can beg or barter for them beyond the border.

When we reach Mirthgrath, I kick Ceron to the ground, and remove his blindfold so he can watch me.

His eyes are a storm of fury.

"You came for my world and you leave with nothing. You tried to destroy me—us—and you failed."

He holds his head high. "I will kill you, little girl. All of you."

He's encompassing Drusk, Titus, and Violet in one sweeping glance.

I bare my teeth. "Let me make you a promise. If you ever lay a hand on my family again, we will take yours. Not just you. Your children, and grandchildren, and their children, too. This is your last warning. Stay away from Tenebris."

He gets to his feet, tall and proud as ever, though I know Violet cut him down a thousand times, waiting for him to heal before cutting again.

That enrages me. I can't help it: I suck on his soul one last time, making him scream.

He never begs, and I hate him for it.

"There," I say. "Now your hair matches Daddy dearest's."

It’s silvery-white, rather than dark. I've drained almost every drop of his life, and the man has the gall to laugh.

"We immortals are patient," he tells me. "And one day, we'll take your pitiful kingdom."

He turns around, walking away like a king.

And we let him.

“That promise of yours was careless,” Titus tells me. “You spoke for both of your bloodlines. You may have linked your fates.”

I ignore him. There are more important matters to attend to.

As soon as the Vikus prince disappears in the darkness, I start the second ritual.

The tears. The blood. The stones. The sacrifice.

It is my grandfather I set to rest today.

And with his death, Tenebris is once again land of the unseelie fae.

Epilogue

Dursk

Vlari is the worst at keeping secrets. From me, in any case. We have a tradition of sorts, she and I. Every year, she does her best to hide her presents and party planning for my birthday, and every year, I figure it out. The first few times, it hadn’t been on purpose; I just came across