Rebel Queen (Lost Fae #3) - May Dawson Page 0,18

safe and sound in there, my boy. Keeping me safe and sound too.”

I wasn’t sure he could even hear what I thought. I used to beg or rail at him. I’d given up for a long time.

But now that Alisa was back, every time I saw my sister’s face, I tried to fight all over again.

There was a sudden rush of wings ahead of us and I stumbled back, but we were too late.

A Fae landed lightly in front of us, with a sharp face and short hair; her smile was as wicked as her bloodied blade. Perin.

“It’s been a long time, Herrick,” she said lightly.

My eyebrows rose. “Faer,” I corrected her.

“Right. You two look so alike.” Her words were light.

Hope beat faster in my chest. If she could somehow sense that I was still alive in here, perhaps others would too. Perhaps Alisa would know.

I loved my sister so much. I’d fought for my death the past year, trying to make Herrick slip. Every once in a while, I wrested control from Herrick for a split-second, enough to make him drop his guard. Death was the only way I’d be free of my prison.

And yet now when release seemed close at hand, the thought of dying at my twin’s hand was brutal. I could imagine the look on her face, the way her clear gaze would be resolute, the way her face would cloud with grief once the act was done. She’d ache over what she did for the rest of her life.

Alisa was all mischief and beauty, wild and winsome and glib. So no one saw the pain buried deep under that easy smile. But even though she pretended to carry her burdens lightly, they were still heavy enough to bruise.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“Your head, as always,” Perin said. “But today, I’m doing you a favor.”

“Oh? You certainly went through some trouble to get here.” I indicated the bloody knife.

She glanced down at it. “Oh, it was no trouble at all. May I sit down?”

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” I said dryly.

The intruding Fae settled down on my couch, the same one where Alisa and I had struggled for life. I’d done my best to fight Herrick off then, when I’d been afraid he would kill Alisa, but I hadn’t been strong enough to best him. Had I made him falter in a key moment? Weakened his arm? I hoped so. But maybe I was deluding myself.

It seemed as if the longer I was trapped, the weaker I grew, as if I might fade out entirely one day and only Herrick would be left. Resolve hardened then in my chest. No, better that I died than take a chance at Herrick winning. No matter what it cost my sister and myself.

I poured Perin a glass of wine. “Not poisoned?” she asked lightly, examining the pink fluid.

“Not poisoned,” I said, taking it back and giving her the entire pitcher. She smiled and tilted it to her lips.

“You’re such a good host despite being such a bad king,” she mused, fishing a bedraggled cherry from the wine and popping it into her mouth. She chewed it thoughtfully.

“Mm, I’m not terribly interested in your opinion. What do you want?”

“I can tell you where to find Alisa,” Perin offered.

“And why would you be so helpful?”

“Because I want her dead.”

“I see. So for once, we want the same thing.”

“Tomorrow, we can go back to being enemies,” she offered.

I smiled, mirroring hers.

But inside, I was screaming.

Somehow, I had to find a way to protect Alisa. But no matter how much I raged at the walls of the magical prison Herrick had built me, I was still trapped in my own mind.

Chapter Seven

Azrael

In my dreams, I was back in the winter court. Faer had sent me out to patrol, maybe because he knew how badly I wanted to be at the Rift instead.

Fighting monsters was one thing.

Fighting the winter rebels was something else altogether.

I stood in front of a flaming village. Faer had ordered the place torched. He’d sent me to the winter court to enforce his will; meanwhile his stringers were permanently posted in one of my own autumn villages to enforce his will on me. He was waiting for any disobedience.

But he wouldn’t just burn down my village. He’d kill every Fae, every child, and hang them over the walls. He’d forced me to sleep in one of those villages after he discovered one of my rebellions, and sometimes—no matter where I

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