of the—”
“Midnight Court?” I offered, throwing caution to the wind and hoping, just this once, things would go our way. Those bright greens zeroed in on me, and I swallowed hard as every ounce of color drained from my face. Terrifying, the intensity of his stare, the weight of it threatening to crush me into the gravel. As if posture created an air of authority, I rolled my shoulders back and lifted my chin. “Are you by any chance here for Fintan of the Midnight Court?”
Mercifully, the horns had died down, still bleating but at half the volume, musicians in battle armor flitting around the warriors charging for the main building. Already, someone had planted a black flag on one of the guard towers, a heap of bloody, broken warlocks piled at its base.
“My youngest brother, yes,” Rollo growled, taking a menacing step toward us. While Lloyd flinched back, knocking into my legs, I held firm—not like I could move even if I wanted to, fear rooting me in place. Tully hissed at Xargi’s former warden, then puffed up when purple fire erupted at the penitentiary’s front door. While Rollo’s men cast the flames quick glances, the prince refused to look away from me. “You have illegally detained a member of the royal court—”
“He’s inside,” I insisted, wand stabbing into the back of Lloyd’s head. “I can show you.”
Rollo’s eyes narrowed, his scrutiny falling on me like a ton of bricks, and that deepening frown spoke volumes. Not that I could blame him if he was suspicious: given how I was dressed and the mute, bleeding warlock at my feet… Hardly a crystal-clear situation he’d stumbled into.
“Fintan and I… We…” Oh, gods, how to describe it to his brother. “We, uh… I…”
Lloyd’s head snapped up, splitting his neck wounds open again just so he could sneer at me—petty bastard. Rollo, meanwhile, seemed to soften, his handsome mouth twitching like he was holding back a smile. With a flick of his hand, the fae warriors at his back sheathed their swords.
“Ah,” he murmured with a knowing nod, and just like that, color raced back to my cheeks like a blazing comet. Humiliation burned at what he must have suddenly thought of me in this skimpy red dress—what Fintan’s reputation implied about the nature of our connection. Sure, we’d had phenomenal sex in the world’s grossest bathroom, but it had only happened once—with all of them. One fleeting moment of intimacy in a hellscape of Lloyd Guthrie’s design, yet I loved them from months of conversation and card games and shared work shifts, from countless meals in the dining hall.
I was not his brother’s prison floozy.
So, I didn’t deserve that look.
Rollo offered me his hand, armored glove and all. “Come along, then, little witch. Take me to him.”
“We…” Oi, was the whole family this hot? Nothing like having those looks and a title to boot. If he was single, women must have waged wars just to claim him. While Lloyd huffed and shifted about at my feet, I did my damnedest not to let this prince see just how much his handsomeness and control flustered me. “Fintan and I were cellmates in the penitentiary. We’re friends…” Rollo’s dark brow cocked like he didn’t believe me even a little. “We… Okay, more than friends. Anyway. Doesn’t matter.” Gods, how embarrassing. “We need to remove his shackles before he leaves. These bastards charmed collars to stifle all our powers. And this one…” I poked Lloyd in the back of the head again in lieu of kicking him as hard as I could in the kidney. “He’s running the show—and he holds all the keys.”
Probably.
Me and the boys had speculated what powered the collars many times over. Sure, the sigils engraved in the leather were what hindered our abilities, but something else charbroiled inmates when they tried to take them off. Just because the ward was down didn’t mean any of us were truly free.
If those collars stayed, Xargi Penitentiary would haunt the men I loved to the end of their days.
Lloyd had removed mine personally. Disappeared into a little room behind one of the bookshelves in his office, then emerged less than a minute later to peel my collar off like a fucking perv.
Couldn’t be all that complicated a process, then—right?
Before I could share that little tidbit with Rollo, the fae prince swept forward, beyond intimidating in his armor, a massive sword sheathed at his side and a trio of curved blades hanging from