say Conall sensed his mate in Europe and went off to find her and bring her into their fold,” he’d sneered. “But evidence suggests otherwise. A wolf couldn’t kill Eirik Mortensen.” Layton had leaned toward him. “If you’d just confirm whether Jerrik’s writings were true, we’d know if she was lying.”
Layton referred to Eirik’s brother, Jerrik. Where Eirik left Faerie over two thousand years ago, as enraged by their behavior and interference in the human world as Fionn had been, Jerrik was mated to a fae. Not just any fae—the equivalent of a fucking princess. He wanted back into Faerie for his mate. Eirik wanted to make sure that gate never opened again.
That’s where his and Fionn’s path had diverged.
But considering Eirik had killed Jerrik to protect the human world, Fionn had been very cautious about starting anything but a cold war with the vampire.
It was thanks to Jerrik’s tales of Faerie that the Blackwoods started investigating the druid legends surrounding Fionn’s curse. From there, they’d worked tirelessly to free Fionn. That resented gratitude was the only thing that had stayed his hand against the coven for almost three centuries. But Layton Blackwood could push an immortal’s patience to its limits. That was quite a feat.
Fionn had stared dispassionately at the Blackwood son. Layton was young. Hotheaded. Unlike his father, Nate, who was intelligent and patient. Nate Blackwood had declared Thea MacLennan off-limits now that she was mated to the alpha and no longer viable as a key to Faerie.
“If you kill Thea, you start a war with Conall MacLennan,” Fionn had told the boy. This should’ve been obvious.
“We’re the most powerful coven in the world.” Layton had shrugged arrogantly. “We can take out one alpha.”
Jesus Christ, the boy was a moron. Fionn had flicked a look at his sisters who stared at their brother in open distaste. It was a pity they were younger than Layton. The hierarchy within the coven was age and power. Layton, unfortunately, was the eldest, and the most powerful among his siblings.
But he was a political ticking time bomb.
“If you kill Conall, you start a war with his pack. And did you not just tell me he’s forged an alliance with Pack Silverton?” Pack Silverton was the largest North American pack, led by Alpha Peter Canid. An important ally for MacLennan. “MacLennan is one of the most powerful alphas in the world. Wolves came from all over to take control of his pack upon his father’s death.” Every supernatural who knew anything about the politics of their world knew of Conall. Pack MacLennan was small, but they owned several businesses, including a lucrative whisky distillery, and were wealthy. Conall had famously taken down every wolf that had challenged him. “Packs around the world practically revere the wolf. You take him out with no acceptable reason, you’ll find yourselves at war with nearly every pack in the fucking world, boy.”
Layton stiffened. “I’m not a boy.”
“Then stop acting like one. You lost, Blackwood. Accept it and move on.” Fionn had stood. “As I will.”
“You refuse to help us at every turn. I don’t know why my father allows you to live.”
Uncaring of the humans who sat at the bar with their backs to them, Fionn had used a source of magic only fae could. Travel. One moment he stood on the other side of the table, the next he had Layton by the throat, pinned to the adjacent wall.
Magic had sparked at his back as his sisters prepared to fight.
Fionn had snarled in Layton’s horrified face. “Your father does not allow me to live.” He had leaned in as Layton gasped for breath. “I allow your coven to exist because I owe that debt. But do not think you can push me, boy.”
The magic at his back amplified and without even looking at the sisters, he concentrated on a pressure point on their necks. The carotid sinus. He sent out strong fingers of energy that hit both sisters there; it caused them to pass out instantly.
Layton had wheezed in outrage.
“They’re still alive,” Fionn had assured him, lowering him to the ground. “That was merely a warning … that you need a lesson in diplomacy.”
Fionn still felt agitated every time he thought on the encounter. It bothered him not just a little that the dangerous fucker would one day be head of the coven.
“The Blackwoods wouldn’t dare interfere with Thea MacLennan after our encounter in Inverness,” Fionn said to Bran.
“No, it’s not the Blackwoods. But you asked