Around us, I hear roots and vines begin to snap and stir.
“You thought promising peace between our kingdoms would earn you immunity.” Her hair begins to whip about her as her power rises, the floral scent now mingling with the cloying smell of rot. “You—thought—wrong.”
Mara screams, and a hundred different roots and vines shoot towards us. Des steps in front of me, and shadows blast out from him, snuffing out the fairy lights and blocking out the heavens above. The roots wither and die away before they can do more than caress my skin.
Everything is inky darkness. I can’t tell up from down, left from right. There is no ground, no forest, no soldiers, no sky. Nothing but primordial night.
From the darkness, I hear Des chuckle. “Oh, Mara.”
The air fills with power, and the fae queen shrieks.
BOOM!
The earth shakes as Mara unleashes another wave of her magic.
“Is that the best you have?” Des taunts a moment later.
I can’t tell what’s happening, I can only assume that the two rulers are fighting.
The magic in the air crests again—and again and again.
“Callypso …”
The hairs on the nape of my neck stand on end. Des’s voice calls to me from an entirely different direction than where I assumed he stood.
“Enchantress …”
I spin at the sound of his voice.
From the nothingness around me, a figure appears in the distance. Des watches me from afar, not coming any closer.
And yet, I swear I can sense him still engaging with the Flora Queen somewhere else in the darkness.
Des beckons me towards him. When I don’t budge, he turns around and heads deeper into the inky blackness.
What is going on? Is this an illusion? Is this real? What happens if I follow him?
What happens if I don’t?
On reflex, I begin to move, throwing a glance over my shoulder. I don’t know why I bother. Aside from Des, there’s nothing here but unending darkness. I understand now why one of Des’s titles is the King of Chaos. This world of perpetual night could drive a person crazy.
Slowly, however, the shadows give way to forest once more. It’s not until I can see the fairy lights overhead that I look behind me. A swell of darkness still swathes the forest. From it I can hear faint shrieks and grunts.
When I swivel back around, my mate waits for me in the distance, surrounded by those bloody oaks.
“Des?” I say, confused.
How can he be in two places at once?
“How very beautiful you are,” he says.
Again my gooseflesh rises. Something about his voice is … off. But what?
“Callypso Lillis, the enchantress,” Des says, strolling forward.
“Des, what’s going … ?” My words die away as he nears.
That hair, those eyes—it’s a spitting image of Des. But the shape of his face is a little squarer, and the curve of his mouth a little crueler.
Not Des!
I take a step back.
“I’ve wanted to meet you for some time.”
My heart’s thundering, my gaze moving from the fairy’s pointed ears to his white hair and sculpted frame.
Not Des, but similar.
This man’s body is a shade more compact than my mate, his frame a bit more wiry.
Despite the incongruences, I recognize him from my dreams.
… dreams are never just dreams …
“Who are you?”
He disappears, only to manifest behind me.
“A ghost.”
I whip around, expecting to see him at my back, but there’s no one there. I spin in a full circle, but the man who could be Des’s doppelganger is gone.
“So the Bastard of Arestys found himself a human mate.” The man’s voice comes from above me. “Here I was, ready to pity him.”
The Bastard of Arestys … I’ve heard that from somewhere …
“But you are nothing quite so ordinary,” he continues. “A human with wings and scales. A siren who can ensnare mortals with her voice alone.
“Even I might’ve made an exception for a mortal like you.”
I stare at the canopy above me, trying to track his voice.
“How did you lead me here?” I ask. How did no one sense you? Des rules the darkness and everything in it.
The fairy laughs. “By the time your mate was learning tricks in the darkness, I had already mastered them.”
I glance around me, trying to pinpoint the man’s voice. Damn him, he keeps moving about.
“The foolhardy ruler of Night is everything he is because of me—but not for long.”
The fairy reappears in front of me, brandishing a dagger.
“Shit.” I jerk back just as he slashes it across my chest. Silk rips as his blade cuts through my dress, and a line of blood blooms in its wake, seeping into the frayed material.
The sting of pain and the thick rush of adrenaline is enough to call out my siren. My skin illuminates, and yessss, I can feel my own viciousness rising.
The man backs away, his eyes drinking me in. “A shame to kill you when I could keep you as a pet.”
His words are the very thing I need to push me over the edge.
I come at him, feeling the wild, chaotic power I was born with.
Men like him die by my hand.
I swing at him. Left, right, my own instincts now bolstered by my training.
He dodges the hits, his eyes brightening like Des’s so often do when he gets excited.
The fairy vanishes.
I spin just as he appears at my back, lunging at me with his knife.
Oh God, he doesn’t just look like Des, he fights like him too, disappearing and manifesting at will.
I bring up my arm, blocking the swing, and then I grab his wrist, twisting with all my strength.
He winks out of existence, but not before he releases his weapon.
I swipe it off the ground as he forms at my back. I just barely miss his fist, but I’m unable to avoid the booted kick to my back.
I grunt, sprawling across the grass. Dagger still in hand, I scramble to get back on my feet, unable to roll away because of my unwieldy wings.
Before I can, I feel my attacker’s fist thread into my hair. He yanks my head back. With a shriek, I turn into the motion, twisting and swiping out with my stolen blade. The knife cuts through the air, slicing into my attacker’s side.
Hissing in air, he releases my hair and steps back.
I rotate to face him, my lungs heaving.
Almost in a daze, he touches his side. He stares at his bloody fingers, shocked.
Bloodlust surges in me.
I rise to my feet, my wings billowing out in a show of power.
The fairy’s face morphs, turning sinister. “You cut me.”
I smile at his anger and his words.
I’ll take and take and take until this fairy is nothing but pulp and bones.
My surroundings darken.
“Cherub,” Des says, appearing at my side and dragging the darkness along with him, “what are you doing out … ?”
His words die away when he catches sight of my attacker. “You.”
Across from us, the fairy’s cruel mouth curves.
“Hello, my son.”
Chapter 49
Son?
But Des’s father was supposed to be …
“You died on my sword, Galleghar,” Des says. He stares at the fairy like one would a ghost. By all rights, he is a ghost.
His father—Galleghar—tilts his head. “Did I?”
My eyes dart between the two men. The similarities between them are uncanny. No wonder there were so many rumors of Des being the last person seen with the missing soldiers. His father has been haunting these woods.
“Desmond!” Mara shrieks from somewhere in the distance. “Coward! Come back and finish the fight.” She sounds like a broken woman.
Galleghar
uses the momentary distraction to disappear. A second later the air behind me stirs. That’s all the warning I get.
The fairy’s arms wrap around me. A second later I’m jerked off my feet and into the sky. He propels the two of us high into the night air.
“What do you think your mate desires more—love or life?” he whispers into my ear as my mate charges after us.
I struggle against him. Higher and higher the two of us shoot into the sky.
“Why don’t we find out?” Des’s father says.
His arms open, and abruptly I slip from them.
I hear Des shout as I pinwheel in the sky.
At the moment my wings might as well be useless. I can’t get my bearings, and the oak grove is growing bigger and bigger beneath me.
All at once I’m scooped out of the air and into Des’s arms.
“I’ve got you,” he says.
No sooner does he speak than Galleghar appears at the Bargainer’s back, his hands braced against Des’s wings. He jerks sharply on them, and I hear the snapping of bones.
He broke my mate’s wings!
Des roars in agony and anger, those massive wings folding at an unnatural angle. And his father, his damnable father, laughs, disappearing just as quickly as he appeared.
The Bargainer tucks his broken wings around me as the two of us tumble, trying to shield me from harm despite him being the injured one.
Several seconds later, we slam into the treetops, and Des grunts as he takes the brunt of the force. The two of us tumble from branch to branch until we finally hit the earth below.
I moan as I stare up at Des. His eyes are unfocused with pain, but he rises to his feet without hesitation, pulling me with him.
“Going so soon?” Galleghar appears on a branch before us.
Even battered and broken, I feel Des’s fury. My normally contained mate is losing his long practiced control.
The shadows gather and spill over the forest.
The man above us may have sired my mate, he may even know a few tricks that Des doesn’t, but right now the darkness is bending to the Bargainer’s will, not his father’s.
Des’s entire body hums with pent up rage. I can feel that unnatural wrath churning beneath his skin.
“How did you escape death?” Des demands.
Galleghar gives his son an indulgent look. “As the Lord of Secrets, you should know better than to ask.” He hops off the branch, and I get my first good look at the wings spread out behind him.
They could be carbon copies of Des’s own wings except Galleghar’s talons look a little bigger, his wingspan might be a little narrower, and the skin of his wings is soot black, not silver. They fold behind him as his feet hit the ground and he begins to stride towards us.
“How I have longed for this reunion,” he says. “How I will savor killing you.” His eyes land on me. “Maybe I’ll be merciful and keep your mate for my new harem—I’ll save her for only my most unspeakable acts. Kings have their needs.”
Okay, this fucker needs to go down.
Des releases me slowly, stepping forward. Darkness pours off him in waves.
Galleghar disappears in the next instant, reappearing right in front of Des, his arm cocked.
The Bargainer dodges the hit, then, grabbing the collar of Galleghar’s shirt, thrusts his own fist into Galleghar’s face. Before he lands the blow, both men disappear. They materialize in the sky above me, grappling as they fall. And then they vanish once more, winking into and out of existence over and over again.
My already trembling heart lodges itself in my throat. My mate is mighty, but he’s fighting the one man who might be his match. And unlike his father, Des’s wings are broken.
I hear the two leviathans roaring as they fight, the world shaking with claps of their power as their magic meets.
Never have I felt so useless as I stare up into the sky.
“He’ll be fine.”
I jolt as the Green Man steps out from the dark woods, his green skin glowing softly in the moonlight.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, edging back a little.
I came into the forest looking for answers. So far, I’ve only been met with questions.
He comes right up to me, reaching out to stroke my dimming skin.
“You are utterly singular,” he says, his finger moving over the scales that dust my arms. His eyes flick to mine. “I find I’ve become quite … enthralled by you.”
I step away from him, grimacing a little. “Where’s Mara?” I ask, looking over his shoulder.
Something about this situation is off, but what?
“Mourning her beloved trees,” he says, not taking his amber eyes off of me.
“I admit, I was utterly titillated when you struck down those oaks.” He shakes his head. “That brute human logic of yours does indeed stir things up around here.”
The Green Man reaches for me again. I slap his hand away. That earns me a nefarious smile. “The one wife I couldn’t have, the one soul I couldn’t claim.”
My skin goes cold. “What are you talking about?”
“Did you miss me while I was away?” He begins to circle me. “I’ve looked forward to chatting with you since our last little encounter in the Fauna Kingdom.”
Chapter 50
I walked Des and myself into a trap. One I can’t figure out.
Des’s father back from the dead, and the Green Man claiming to have memories he shouldn’t.
The Green Man smooths down his shirtfront, looking at his body. “This bloody sot died long ago.”
I swallow, beginning to back up.
“Deep in the forest, the Green Man met a stranger who wanted to harvest the most peculiar fruit.” The Green Man—or whoever this guy really is—laughs. “The weakling sought to strike me down.” He flashes me a sly smile. “But I am a hard thing to kill.
“He died, I lived, and I indeed harvested the most magnificent fruit.” He lifts his hands, gesturing to the bloody trees around us.
He was responsible for the disappearances?
I’m itching to reach beneath the hem of my dress and grab my daggers. Slowly, my hand moves to my skirts. I begin to hike the material up slowly.
Keep him distracted.
“How did you hide this from Mara?” I ask.
No wonder the Flora Queen was utterly uninterested in her mate. Whoever this man is, it doesn’t sound like he’s the true Green Man. Which means she’s been living with an imposter for who knows how long.
He laughs. “You mean her bleeding trees? She thought they were dying of rot—which they are—and she sought to hide it from her kingdom. Little known fact: trees die when Flora rulers are too weak to sustain their kingdom. She feared she was losing her hold on her reign.”
I continue to gather the fabric of my skirt in my hand.
“And Karnon?” I ask. “How did you infiltrate his kingdom?”
The Green Man’s eyes alight. “Ah, Karnon. That mad, clever king was my greatest conquest yet. To slip into a skin not yet dead … It was effortful, to say the least.
My flesh crawls. How could I not have noticed before the lingering wrongness of this man?
“But, as you saw, living bodies have their drawbacks. I fought with his mind for dominance, and I didn’t always win.”
Karnon’s split personality! The mad king had still been in there when this body snatcher took it over.
But … how?
The Green Man continues talking, unaware of my thoughts. “That animal made you in his likeness to escape me. He sought an end to his life by provoking the King of the Night, and what better way to do so than to harm the Night King’s mate?”
I’ve hiked up almost all of my skirt. So close to my daggers.
“What are you?” I ask.
For one second, his body morphs. Inky black hair and eyes replace the Green Man’s more vibrant ones. His skin pales, his features turning sinister.
Those upturned eyes, that pouty mouth and
plaited hair. I’ve seen that face before! It’s that of the dark haired man from my most recent nightmare.
“What is a body really?” he says. “Something that constrains you, something that perishes.
The illusion dissipates, and he’s the Green Man once more.
“I have a thousand eyes and even more souls. I am what happens when even darkness dies. Look at me, and see the truth.”
I do look at him. I can’t bear to take my eyes off of him. This is the man who has hidden thousands of soldiers and raped thousands more.
The Thief of Souls.
Chapter 51
I desperately grasp one of my daggers. The metal makes a slick sound as I pull it out of my thigh holster.
He smiles at the sight. “Come now, Callypso. Have I not just warned you that killing me is pointless?”
“Stay away from me,” I warn him, lifting the weapon.
“Alas, I cannot. You, my sweet, have presented me with a unique problem,” he rubs his lower jaw as he talks. “A prophecy demands you must die in order for me to get what I want, but if you do, you are beyond my reach.”
Above us, the sky quakes as my mate battles on with his father.
“What is it that you want?”
He grins again, the sight unsettling me. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Riddle me this:” he says, “why would a thief such as me steal as many soldiers as I have?”
That’s one of the many things I could never figure out about this mystery.
“Think on it, enchantress.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Would you prefer slave?” he asks. “Personally, I think you seem ill-suited to the title, but if that’s what you desire …”
I begin to back up. “I don’t understand—what does Galleghar have to do with any of this?” I ask. Even now the sky thunders with the sounds of father and son.
The Thief of Souls now smiles. “There’s an old prophetess who can answer that question—for a price. One way or another you’ll figure it out.”
I fight the next question that leaves my lips. I know it’s no use asking; no answer will be good enough. I ask anyway.
“Why are you doing this?”
His eyes seem to dance. “Perhaps it is time for you to learn more about me, as I have you.” He reaches out to me again, cupping my cheek.