if this was what I thought it might be.
I cleared my throat and lifted the lid, the familiar gold-and-red pendant inside blinking up at me beneath the lighting. My Guardian pin.
Malik had taken this from me after everything that went down with Dakota. And now… now he was giving it back… “Does this mean I’m reinstated?” I asked, my voice forcibly flat.
“Yes,” Malik replied. “I think you have been for a while. This just makes it official.” He clapped me on the shoulder, then turned to Kols. “Now we need to talk about tonight. There are some things I haven’t told you.”
Just like that, the moment was done.
Congratulations, Zeph. Your fuckup is officially forgiven. You can hereby continue risking your life for my son. Moving on…
My eyes nearly rolled, but I forced my features to remain uncaring and instead focused on his commentary concerning the Blood Gala.
He started with the usual bullshit regarding toasts and celebrations of Midnight Fae independence from the Quandary Blood’s nefarious interference.
It was all the typical political gnat-crap until he said, “And I’ve taken the liberty of writing your speech.” He slid a paper from his pocket. “Given the complexities of our current position, particularly with your grandfather calling for a delay in the ascension, I thought it best that I prepare this for you. If you deliver it right, then at this time next year, you should be well on your way to taking over my throne.”
The words “If you don’t deliver it right” seemed to hang between us unsaid. A lingering threat that required compliance.
Or perhaps his father just didn’t see any alternative.
Kols glanced at the note, his eyes hardening as he read. “Right,” he said when he finished. “Thank you, Father.”
Father, not Dad.
That indicated he wasn’t thrilled by whatever speech Malik had drafted for him.
“Brilliant,” his father replied, obviously oblivious to his son’s displeasure. “Now there’s just one more thing I need to make you aware of, as I don’t want the announcement to blindside you later.” He paused to look at me, considering. “Well, you’re reinstated, so it can’t hurt to bring you in on the secret. You are protecting the future king, after all.”
I blinked, doing my best not to react.
But I really did not like where this was going.
“The efforts to find Aflora have proven difficult, and we’ve unfortunately not located her yet. But Chern and Shadow were able to identify the whereabouts of someone else that the Elders have been hunting for over a thousand years.”
Kols tensed. “Who?”
“Zenaida,” Malik replied, his golden irises swirling with triumph. “The Warrior Bloods are on their way to take her into custody now. And we intend to present her for justice as our closing act.”
“Zenaida, as in the former Midnight Fae Queen?” I asked, making sure I understood this announcement correctly.
“Exactly. The woman who turned her back on us all for her mates. We’ve finally found her.” Malik had given up trying to contain his excitement. Apparently, the act of hunting down a female fae and making a show of her was what got him off at night.
“I thought she was dead,” I replied, doing my best not to lose my shit. Because what the fuck?
“So did we all,” Malik said. “And soon, she will be.” He uttered that last part with the glee of a villain looking forward to his next crime.
Kols forced a smile. “Well done, Father. I’m sure Constantine is thrilled.”
“He’s off with the Warrior Bloods now, ensuring all goes to plan,” Malik replied. “Well. Best to leave you to it. See you in a few. And do try to be kind to Emelyn tonight. She’ll be your mate soon.”
He left in a swirl of black, disappearing down the hallway with a hitch in his step that indicated his excitement over the coming events.
I shut the door and locked it, then turned just as Tray and Ella burst into the room, clearly having been listening through the adjoining door to Tray’s rooms.
“Did I hear that right?” Tray demanded. Shade gave up the location of his grandmother? And the Warrior Bloods are on their way to capture her and bring her to the party to put her on trial?”
“A fancy phrase for torture and kill her,” I muttered, knowing exactly what Malik Nacht and the Council intended to do.
“That’s my highest concern,” Kols said, his focus on the door.
“Aflora?” Tray guessed. “Is she with Zenaida?”
“No, she’s with Zakkai. She’s fine.” Kols turned to me. “Zeph. That man was not my father.”
“What?”
“The