Contents

Title Page

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Books by Chani Lynn Feener

Publisher’s Acknowledgments

Copyright

To Kat, Katrina, Katie.

It was cold.

Arden rubbed her hands together and tried to peer through the darkness that surrounded her, desperate to make something out. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but everything felt different…. Wrong, somehow. Foreign.

She tried to think back to how she’d gotten to this place, but her mind was blank, as void as the space around her. A wave of cloying fear washed over her and she paused, forcing herself to take a breath and think through the panic.

There’d been an accident—no, not an accident, a sacrifice. A Tithe.

But that wasn’t right either. The Tithe was over; a week had passed since she’d rescued Tabitha and sent the Erlking to the Underground in her friend’s place. A week since the group of them—she, Tabitha, Cole, and Eskel—had started sleeping over at Tabby’s house, the lot of them too unnerved to separate.

Ah.

Sleep.

It came to her all at once: this was a dream, and she’d had it before. Lost to her memories when she was awake, the dream returned to her vividly as she slept, and she watched it begin to play out.

As if summoned by her realization, the world began to color. Splashes of green and brown slowly filled up the empty space, the darkness receding until she was standing in the midst of a forest. Above her, a thick, leafy canopy concealed most of the sky.

Movement off to the left caught her attention, and she turned to watch Mavek step from behind a graying tree trunk. He was as pale as ever, with jet-black hair. His eyes were a swirl of greens and golds and browns, and he was dressed as he had been the night of the Tithe, in a vest that showcased the dozens of rose tattoos scattered up and down his arms and partially across his chest.

But that’s where the familiarity stopped. He felt different. Before, there’d been a sense of safety whenever Mavek was around. A sense of home. Now when she looked at him, even knowing this wasn’t reality, things just felt wrong.

“Come All Saints’ Eve,” Mavek’s voice rang throughout the forest and she instinctively recoiled, unable to escape his words, “no one will be able to hurt you.”

“Stop,” she said, but it came out a whisper, her throat suddenly dry. Her limbs grew heavy, halting her retreat.

“Come All Saints’ Eve,” he took a step closer, the air around him shifting and darkening, almost like he was surrounded by a storm cloud, “we’ll be able to be together forever.”

Guilt and disgust mixed within her. She knew what those words meant now, and fear of her future threatened to consume her. Cursed with the sight for life, Arden had only just begun to accept this burdensome fate. Now, standing in this forest, she knew that there were worse things to be than merely cursed. There were worse things to fear than simply the existence of Unseelie faeries.

Her eyes locked on Mavek’s, and she braced herself for what she knew would come next. Desperately, she tried to wake herself, but no matter how many times she pinched her arm, nothing changed. Mavek kept advancing toward her, and she kept stumbling back, even knowing what was back there, waiting.

The Midnight Prince was turning her into something monstrous, but she frantically reminded herself that this wasn’t really him. The Mavek before her was nothing more than a dream phantom, a manifestation of her fear of turning into him.

Yet behind her, still another fear was being brought to light.

“Stop,” she repeated, this time more to herself than to him. Her legs were moving of their own accord, her feet already turning her, despite how hard she struggled against them. Much like in the waking world, she had almost no control.

There were two things that terrified Arden. Turning fae was one of them. Dying was another.

One meant becoming a monster, and the other… she didn’t really know. That caused bile to rise up the back of her throat, because what did it say about her that she found death the more frightening of the two? That she’d rather live in any way, shape, or form, than face possible oblivion?

Mavek was close now, too close, and Arden’s feet completed the turn all at once, putting him at her back. Before she could worry about his next move, a figure appeared in front of her, as if from thin air.

The dagger came first, the sharp tip of the blade glinting in the light a mere second before it thrust forward and pierced through her heart. Her shoulders slumped inward protectively, even though it was too late, her hand instinctually shooting out to latch onto the wrist that still held the knife.

Her eyes trailed up her attacker’s arm, his body taking form as she slowly looked up. She scanned past his elbow, up to his shoulder and above, watching in horror as a familiar face appeared, as eyes as deep as the ocean came into focus and stared back.

“Eskel,” his name slipped past her lips, the sound of it causing the corner of his mouth to tip up in a vicious smirk.

Without a word, the blond boy stepped closer, their breath mingling, until the tips of his shoes touched hers. Then, before her brain could process anything else, his hand gripped the dagger tighter.

And he twisted.

Arden sprang up with a start, panting and covered in a fine layer of sweat. Remnants of the nightmare flickered through her mind, and she sat still, waiting for them to dissipate.

She knew from experience that she should try to cling to details of the dream before it was too late and she was left with only disconnected bits and pieces. Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to actually do it, the tight fear gripping her chest more than she could bear. In the week since the Tithe, she’d woken just like this multiple times, hand pressed against her racing heart.

As usual, within a minute most of the dream became a blur, mostly flashes of sensation and occasional glimpses of Mavek and Eskel. Whether or not she’d spoken to either was a blank. It wasn’t hard to figure out, however, that she’d been stabbed, the same way she had been in the vision the Erlking had shown her. Ever since that night, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about those rings. Her attacker had worn one of them.

Eskel had one too.

A glimpse of Eskel’s face, cruelly smirking, flashed through her mind and she shuddered. Though she couldn’t recall exactly, some part of her knew that it was the blond boy who took on the form of her attacker in her nightmare. She’d long since discarded him as a threat in the waking world, but his face still featured in her subconscious every night, and she hated the doubt that still existed within her. She took a calming breath; what happened in her dreams was out of her control.

“Hey.”

She jumped, twisting around almost too quickly, righting her balance just in time so that she didn’t end up falling on top of Tabby who was sound asleep at her side.

Eskel was on her left, sitting up now as well, face partially obscured by the darkness of the room. He was watching her intently, a crease furrowing his brow. Even though she knew his concern was genuine, a part of her felt a rush of fear at having him so close.

Arden inhaled shakily, slowly, forcing her mind to clear and her body to relax. It’d only been a dream; it wasn’t real. Eskel would never hurt her. She believed that.

She had to believe it.

“Are you okay?” Eskel whispered, leaning in a little closer, not wanting to wake their friends. He lifted his hand toward her, but paused when she tensed and dropped it back down.

“Another nightmare?” he asked when a long stretch of silence had passed between them.

“Yes,” she admitted, her voice cracking, throat still dry.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She found that she couldn’t, even if she wanted to. She simply had too few details of what had happened in it. The only part she was certain about—the part that involved the Erlking’s vision—she wasn’t going to share. Not with anyone.

It would put too many people she cared about in danger.

Behind them, Cole continued to snore.

“No,” she said.

“You know I’m here for you,” he told her, “if you ever change your mind and need someone to listen, right?”

“Yeah,” the word came out shaky and uncertain, even to her own ears. Arden took another deep breath, imagining all of the lingering emotions brought on by the nightmare spilling out of her as she exhaled.

“Yeah,” she tried again, managing a smile this time, hoping it seemed even half as genuine as his unwavering concern did, “of course.” She forced herself to reach out, to rest her hand over his. “Thank you.”

Eskel would never hurt her.

She pretended not to know she was being followed. She was always being followed now, by one creature or another, and it was starting to fray her last nerve.

Arden Archer turned down the street, hands tucked deep into the pockets of her pale pink pea coat, left hand gripping the palm-sized dagger concealed there, its blade pressed against her wrist inside her sleeve. If she had to, she’d defend herself.

She hoped she didn’t have to.

In the three weeks since the Tithe had ended, this had been her reality. So far, Unseelie had trailed her but kept their distance. Being noticed by the fae wasn’t new––their stares had tracked her ever since she was a child––but the following… that was different. Before, she only garnered their attention if she happened upon them. Now, they were the ones making themselves available.

They’d even flooded the town, despite the fact that with the Tithe long since over, there was no longer any reason for them to remain. When she’d asked, Cato had said they were probably just curious to see who took the Erlking’s place.

There was someone else she could question, someone who would definitely know, but she was avoiding him.

The library finally came into view and she inhaled slowly, letting the icy air fill her lungs, welcoming the distracting burn for a second. She’d counted at least three Unseelie behind her, all acting like they were tourists or townies, and quickly glancing away when she’d caught one of their eyes.

Ridiculous.

It was the day after Thanksgiving, so the college campus was all but empty as Arden made her way through it to the two-story white stone building on the hill. The original Thornbrooke library had been brick, much like the rest of the structures that made up the college, but it’d suffered severe water damage ten years ago. When the decision to rebuild from scratch had been made, the board had decided to change its design. Now, the blindingly white library stood out among the rest of the old buildings like an eyesore, rather than the beacon the board had hoped for.

Arden’s boots clicked against the wooden ramp leading to the double glass doors. Struggling against the urge to glance over her shoulders one last time, she entered the library, turning right without pause.

The path brought her deeper into the history section, where rows of empty wooden tables with dimmed lamps in their centers greeted her. She ignored them as well, twisting through the stacks to get to the far back of the section at the end of the library.

Her friends were already there, situated around one of the few round tables, tucked between bloated shelves of books with dust-covered tomes almost nobody touched. This section had been long forgotten by the bulk of the student population, visited only by the occasional transfer interested in learning more about the local lore and the Unseen.

The town of Thornbrooke knew about the fae, they just didn’t know what they were. Ghost stories and recollections of strange creatures in the woods came up in everyday conversation with the older generations, but very few understood that the Unseen were really a different kind of monster.

Cole, Tabitha, and Eskel were all hunched over books, each scribbling into a notebook. They were all so deeply invested in their work that they didn’t hear her approaching until she was already there.

“Hey,” she said, dropping into a vacant seat between Eskel and Tabitha. They startled, but she didn’t acknowledge it, instead reaching for one of the books piled in the center of the table. Its cover was a faded red and its spine was torn. Bringing it closer, she made out the title, etched in gold, and grunted. “Seeing the Unseen. Really?”

Cole lifted a shoulder and leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking slightly beneath his weight. He looked tired, with light purple splotches beneath his umber eyes. “We’ve looked through everything else.”

“It’s a massive library,” she pointed out. “There’s got to be more.”

“I’ve ordered more books through Howl’s,” Tabby reassured her, closing the volume she’d been reading with a thump. “It’ll be a couple of weeks before they get here though.”

Howl Books, the college bookstore, was where the two of them worked. Fortunately, it meant they were able to suggest new titles for stock, but they could only order so many at a time to avoid arousing their manager’s suspicions. Using the store for their own personal shopping was generally frowned upon.

Normally Arden would have ordered books online and had them shipped to her house, but her residence was also being monitored. The last thing she needed was for one of the fae to steal a package off her doorstep and bring it straight to Rose Manor.

Not that she was naïve enough to believe that Mavek wasn’t aware of what she’d been up to these past few weeks. Even if the fae stalking her weren’t sent by him, he’d know. He’d kept his distance so far, but she was under no illusions that his absence meant he’d washed his hands of her.

“Did you guys find anything at least?” she asked, sighing. She watched as all three of their expressions darkened, disappointment and frustration flashing across their tired faces.

The day after the Tithe, she’d been afraid to tell them what she’d discovered about herself. To tell them what the Midnight Prince had done to her. Part of her had feared they’d turn their backs and shun her after she confessed. But they hadn’t. Tabby had held her as she cried, and Cole and Eskel had both immediately sworn they’d do everything they could to stop it.

To stop Arden from turning into an Unseelie faerie.

“I’ve got some more articles back at the dorm to go through,” Eskel told her. “Maybe there will be something there. We know you’re not the only human to be turned into one of them. We’ll find something.”

She tried to smile, but only managed to curve one corner of her mouth. The truth was, they had found things. There were tons of tales out there of mortals becoming immortals, all ultimately whisked off to the Underground to live forever. Of humans eating foods they shouldn’t—like Arden had inadvertently done—and becoming something else overnight.

Only, Arden wasn’t changing anywhere near that fast. And they’d yet to find a single story that told of a human changing back.

“How was your guys Thanksgiving?” Her blatant change of topic didn’t faze them; her friends were used to her deflections by now. These days, there was only so much time Arden could devote to feeling sorry for herself before she needed a distraction. She wanted desperately to focus on the normal, even though her life had never really been normal, even prior to all of this.

Arden had always possessed the sight—the ability to see the Unseelie, even when they tried to hide themselves with their magic. It was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. She’d hoped to rid herself and her family of the curse, so she’d made a deal with the devil.

More than that, she’d trusted him.

“It was good,” Tabby answered, twirling her pen between her fingers. “Mom asked why you didn’t come this year though. I tried telling her you were sick. I’m not sure she believed me.”

Even before her mother had died, Arden spent every Thanksgiving with Tabitha’s family. Her mom had been in and out of hospitals for years, and Arden had wanted her younger sister, Ainsley, to have some semblance of normal. Even last year, after sending her sister away to live with their aunt, she’d flown Ainsley back for the holiday.

Her sister still wasn’t pleased that she’d refused this time around.

“Uncle Luke made his famous cranberry stuffing,” Cole said. “You really missed out.”

Arden snorted and turned to Eskel. “What about you?”

“I video chatted with my parents,” he told her. “We technically ate together that way. It was kind of fun.” Originally, he’d planned on flying all the way back home to California, but he’d changed his mind last minute.

He hadn’t said as much, but Arden knew it was because of her.

Not for the first time, she wondered if he would still even be here if the two of them hadn’t met. The only reason he’d transferred to Thornbrooke College was to find his brother’s killer, which he’d successfully done. Their school wasn’t bad, but it certainly wasn’t top tier either, and Eskel was a lot smarter than their tiny town—riddled with its ghost stories—deserved.

She’d tried to convince him to go back once, about a week after the Tithe, but he’d refused. It was too dangerous here, especially with the influx of fae. Too dangerous for all of them, she worried, glancing at Cole and Tabitha as they chatted with Eskel about what type of dishes he’d eaten.

A selfish part of her though was glad that they were here, and relieved that they hadn’t turned on her. That they didn’t look at her differently.

“Do you want to come over and check those articles with me?” Eskel asked her then, cutting into her thoughts. He was watching her closely with those deep blue eyes of his, light blond hair swept back and off his forehead.

She was tempted, like she always was, to say yes. But she forced herself to give a curt shake of her head and motion toward the large bay window across the table. “It’s getting late. My shift ran over at Howl’s, sorry I didn’t get here soon enough to be of any help.”

“It’s fine,” Cole waved at her and stood, collecting books as he talked. “Leave the grunt work to us.”

“You really don’t—”

“I was joking, Arden,” cutting her off before she could tell them, yet again, that they weren’t obligated to help her. “Geez. Were you always this repetitive? No wonder we broke up.”

The real reason they’d broken up flashed through her mind.

“Seriously?” Tabby scolded at the same time that Cole realized his mistake and swore.

“Sorry.” He hesitated a moment longer before giving up and lifting the books from the table. He disappeared around one of the stacks, presumably replacing them, without another word.

Cole had moved here their junior year of high school, and the two of them had shared an instant link through Tabitha. At first, they were merely friends, but they’d grown closer as the year progressed. They’d only just started dating when her mom had been hospitalized for the ninth time. He’d been supportive throughout that whole experience, right up until she’d died.

Then he suddenly disappeared, breaking up with her in a voicemail, only to be seen again a few months later when the Tithe had forced him back.

Ironic, really, that it had been an Unseelie who made him leave, and an Unseelie who caused his return.

Even knowing the reason he’d abandoned her, though, didn’t help heal all of Arden’s wounds. The two of them weren’t as close as they used to be, nor would they ever be again. Things were different now, and not just because he was aware of the existence of the fae, or because she was turning into one of them.

They’d both just experienced too much.

Still, Cole had won the Tithe, and despite Arden’s interference with the sacrificial ceremony, his curse had been lifted. He could go back to his college in New York, where he’d been studying acting prior to getting roped into all of this. Really, aside from Tabby, the other two had places they could go. Places they could run.

Arden had made a promise to herself that if it ever got too bad with the Unseelie, she’d talk both Eskel and Cole into leaving. No matter what, she couldn’t relive what she’d experienced at the Tithe ever again.

The fear and the guilt she’d felt that night had been overwhelming. She still woke up from nightmares that she’d been just a second too late, and that Tabitha had been dragged into the Underground by hellish water fae while Cole was torn apart by the Erlking, just for the fun of it.

And Eskel… Her nightmares about Eskel were always the worst. In them, he was wearing his brother’s ring—the one with the Erlking’s emblem—as his hand gripped tightly around the hilt of a shiny silver blade.

A blade that was imbedded between her ribs.

“Arden?” Tabby was leaning closer to her now, lips pursed. “Are you alright?”

“Huh?” Arden blinked, realizing she’d let her mind wander. “I’m just tired.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Eskel offered. He’d already packed up his stuff, his backpack hanging over one shoulder. A quick glance showed that they’d cleared the table in her daze, and Arden felt another wave of guilt for not being present. They’re only here because of you, she thought, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“We’re already on campus,” Arden pointed out, biting her lip when she saw the hurt in Eskel’s eyes. “It makes more sense for you to just go back. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“But—”

“Here,” Tabby quickly tugged Arden out of her chair and linked their arms, cutting him off mid-sentence. “I’ll walk with you until we reach my street. Later!” This last part she called out a bit louder so as to reach Cole, who’d yet to come out from the stacks. Without waiting for either to respond, she made a beeline for the front of the library, dragging Arden along with her.

“Thanks,” Arden mumbled as soon as they were out of earshot.

“You can’t avoid him forever,” Tabby sighed wearily.

“I’m not. I was just with him, wasn’t I?”

“As a group. It’s always in a group. You can’t avoid being alone with him, Arden. It isn’t fair.”

Arden forced them to an abrupt stop just outside the library doors. A gust of icy wind slapped against her face, whipping the ends of her coat roughly against her knees, but she hardly noticed. “You know why I’m doing this.”

Tabby sighed, pulling Arden a little closer under the pretense of protection from the wind, but really to keep her next words from drifting into the ears of Unseen passersby. Two months ago, Tabby hadn’t even believed in the Unseelie. Now, she’d learned the importance of keeping secrets from them.

She must also be aware that the three fae who’d stalked Arden around campus were still here, watching them from the shadows across the empty road. Tabby couldn’t see them—didn’t have the sight—but she was sharp.

“I understand that you’re just trying to protect him, and the rest of us, but you can only take that so far before you start becoming a control freak. If Eskel was going to go back to California, he would have by now. Making the both of you suffer apart is stupid, Arden.”

“Who says I’m suffering?” Sure, it sucked that she felt too worried to be alone with him, but suffering was a pretty strong word. They’d only known one another a handful of months, had kissed a total of one time. “We’re just friends.”

“You’d just decided to be more,” Tabby reminded her, “don’t pretend like you didn’t.”

“I regret telling you anything.” Arden narrowed her eyes in a poor attempt to hide her discomfort at the conversation’s turn. “But you’re right about one thing, that it was a decision I made before. The Tithe changed everything.”

“Maybe for you,” she said. “I don’t think that’s the case for Eskel. Don’t you at least owe it to him to ask?”

There wasn’t a point in asking because she already knew the answer. He’d claimed that he was fine with it all, that they’d find a way to reverse the process and make her human again anyway. He’d told her, point-blank, that he wanted to go on a date. A real date, clichéd and normal with food and a movie and handholding…

“What if there’s no going back, Tabby?” Arden asked, her words barely audible as a fear she’d held close to her heart was finally given voice.

It was more than just not wanting to force Eskel into a relationship with a creature he hated; the Unseelie had murdered his brother, and he’d never bothered hiding that he despised them all. It was also about her.

“I’m changing,” she continued, “you might not be able to see it on the outside, but I feel it. I know it’s happening, even if it is happening slowly. This morning, I thought something had caught fire in the kitchen and spent fifteen minutes searching before realizing my neighbor had burned their breakfast.” She held her gaze pointedly. “My neighbor down the block.”

“Arden.”

She shook her head, stopping her. “I know you’re trying to help, but I’m not just a college student anymore. Dating and talking about boys we think are cute—none of that is simple anymore.”

For a moment, Tabby didn’t say anything until finally her features settled into a half smile. She swung an arm around Arden’s shoulders and tugged her down the ramp. “Please, you’ve never been a normal girl, ever. As far as I’m concerned, nothing’s really changed.”

“Tabitha—”

“Who cares?” she countered, though there was a flash of discomfort that vanished almost as quickly as it’d come. “My cousin and Eskel both have strong negative feelings toward the Unseelie, sure, but you’re you and they’re them, Arden.”

“I’m becoming one of them,” she reminded her friend.

“No,” she stated, voice firming some, “you’re just becoming more. That’s all.”

It was a little hard to tell who Tabby was aiming to convince, and Arden tried to not feel hurt by that. They were putting on a strong front, but this couldn’t be easy on any of her friends either.

“It’s more complicated than that.” She sighed.

“Astrophysics is complicated,” Tabby corrected. “This? This is cake.”

“You are such a good liar.” She snorted, her smile real for the first time that day. “How can mapping stars be more complicated than figuring out how to stop someone’s DNA from changing?”

“I don’t know,” Tabby admitted, “maybe they’re both a little magic in their own way.” She canted her head. “Are we still being followed?”

Arden didn’t have to glance behind them to know the answer to that. “Of course.”

Tabby nibbled on her bottom lip. “Do you want me to walk you all the way? I could stay the night? Slumber party?”

“Thanks,” Arden shook her head, slowing them as they approached the street that would take her friend home, “but I’ll be fine.”

“Maybe I won’t be.” The first week after the Tithe, Tabby had been too afraid to be alone. After her near sacrifice, it made sense. Over time, however, when no fae had come knocking, her fears dissipated some. Her brave friend had bounced back quickly, and there was just enough daylight left for Tabby to feel comfortable traveling the two streets to her house.

“Need me to walk you home?” Arden offered anyway, laughing at her friend’s flippant snort. “See? We’re both fine.”

It was a contradiction to everything she’d just implied, but she didn’t retract it and fortunately, Tabby knew better than to point it out.

“Okay.” They stopped at the street and Tabitha withdrew, immediately shoving her hands into her jacket pocket. Her sable hair was up in a high ponytail, and the wind flicked loose strands of it around her pale face.

“Go,” Arden urged, playfully shoving her a little, careful not to use any of the new strength her body had developed. The Unseelie were stronger than humans. Arden was stronger now too. Still, she saw her friend struggle to maintain balance before quickly pretending otherwise.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” Tabby promised, a new ritual they’d all developed since the Tithe. There was even a group chat dedicated to confirming their locations. They’d get check-in texts from Eskel and Cole later.

Arden waved as her friend turned on her heels and bounded up the sidewalk, eager to get out of the cold. She stood there another moment, heart pounding, as she tried to ease the wave of anxiety that had swept over her.

It was practically dark by the time she forced herself to get moving, making her way through the quiet town. The trees rustled as she passed but she kept her gaze on the horizon, never once giving in to the urge to glance up into the branches, or over into a particularly shadowy spot between houses. Something inky and large moved in front of a garage, darting in and out of her peripheral vision faster than she could blink, but she ignored it. This wasn’t new; pretending she couldn’t see was a skill she’d honed over the course of her eighteen years. She even derived a little comfort from the routine of the practice. She could almost pretend that they weren’t here for her, that they were just roaming the streets at twilight like they always did.

Fortunately, she didn’t live far from campus, and within ten minutes she spotted her house, a tiny two-story tucked between her neighbors’ townhomes. The lights were off and it was quiet as she approached. Empty. Arden tried not to let the loneliness in as she ascended the rickety steps and inserted her key into the knob.

But that feeling, like avoiding the fae, was another thing she was deeply familiar with.

Arden felt him before she saw him, the heady smell of roses, teakwood, and mahogany tickling her nose and luring her out from the dream she’d been having.

When she forced her tired eyes open, however, only darkness greeted her, her vision yet to adjust. She’d left the hallway light on, but it was nothing but a slim golden beam beneath the closed bedroom door. The door she’d left open before crawling into bed a few hours ago.

It didn’t take her long to regain focus, and when she realized there was a pair of hazel eyes leaning over her, staring back, she reacted without hesitation.

The dagger she kept tucked beneath her pillow was out in a flash, her fingers quickly finding its grip on the hilt—securely but with her muscles relaxed and ready. She slashed the weapon forward, a purely defensive maneuver, knowing her target would easily evade. She sat up and scuttled back until her spine hit the headboard, keeping the knife out in front of her. Her breathing was labored, but her panic was only partially due to fear for her safety. She hated that the bulk of her reaction was a result of the foolish thrill of seeing him, vestigial emotions of her past self.

Old habits were hard to break.

“Hello, heart.” Mavek’s voice was smooth in the dim room––low, yet confident. He’d sprung back to avoid getting slashed by the knife, a move that had forced him to the other side of the room, allowing Arden to get a good look at him.

He was dressed in a long maroon jacket, and he reached up to adjust the popped collar around his neck, fingers brushing against the ends of his black hair in the process. His T-shirt was low-cut, the swoop of the thin material partly exposing a few of the rose tattoos scattered across his collarbones. Some were mere outlines; others had been shaded in a bright red.

Red, to signify a Tithe win. To signify a soul he’d sacrificed and fed to his people in the Underground.

A shiver ran over her before she could help it, and his eyes narrowed into thin slits, mouth thinning into an irritated line.

“You won’t be able to hold that forever,” he told her, indicating the knife with a slight lift of his chin.

Arden forced her hand to remain relaxed and steady, but her warring emotions caused her grip to tighten and choke on the hilt. The metal was starting to burn her where it touched her skin, her fingers and palm heating uncomfortably with every passing heartbeat. She struggled to maintain an even expression as Mavek watched her closely, not wanting to give away her pain.

The fae were allergic to iron. That’s why she’d chosen to tuck that particular weapon beneath her pillow. Unfortunately, the fact that she was already starting to have an adverse reaction to holding it was further proof of what she was turning into, not to mention that she had no difficulty making out his form in the dim moonlight coming through her window.

“Not unless you undo what you did,” she finally responded, feeling some relief when her voice didn’t shake or stutter.

“We both know I can’t do that.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” When all he did was tilt his head and stare, she sighed. She knew him well enough to know how stubborn he was.

Sometimes, when she was alone and feeling particularly hopeless about her situation, she wondered if she’d questioned him enough. She’d gotten herself into this mess because she’d been too trusting and foolish. Maybe, this was what she deserved for being so stupid.

Arden lowered the knife, keeping her hand wrapped around the hilt as she rested it at her side on the bed. “It’s been weeks, Mavek.”

His eyes glimmered in the dark. “Have you missed me, heart?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“That isn’t a no.”

“No,” she stated, sure to enunciate, “I have not. I wish you’d stayed away.”

If her words stung, he didn’t show it, his expression impassive. She’d seen him do this a thousand times before; he could hide his emotions better than anyone.

He could lie better than anyone.

The myth claiming that faeries could only tell the truth was just that––a myth. Rather, they preferred to twist their words, presenting a half-truth. That didn’t mean, however, that they couldn’t outright lie if they wanted to. If they grew bored with the “honesty game.”

Mavek had told her that her family was cursed, implying that her mother had died because of it. That hadn’t been a total lie. Arden’s mother had died because of the sight she’d been given at birth. But the curse hadn’t made her crazy; the Unseelie had.

“What were you dreaming about?” he asked after a moment of tense silence. “You were crying out and thrashing around. You never used to have nightmares.”

“You’re joking, right?”

He gave a curt nod, catching on. “The Tithe.”

“What else?”

“You said my name.”

If possible, she felt her spine straighten even more.

“Am I the star of your nightmares now, Arden?” He took a step closer, practically gliding through the shadows of her room. His feet barely made a sound, clothes rustling softly with each step until he’d made it to the foot of the bed. “Is it wrong of me to say that I’m pleased? Pleased that you think of me at all? That I haunt you just as much as you—”

“Stop.” She didn’t want to hear this, any of it. Didn’t want to have this conversation. The intense feeling of betrayal, which she’d foolishly thought had dimmed over the past few weeks of separation, returned full force, flaring to life beneath her breast. It took all her willpower not to press her palm against her heart and give herself away.

“Could it be that you were actually dreaming of what the Erlking showed you?” He’d asked her to tell him about that before; he knew there was something she was keeping from him. “Perhaps you’re ready to share?”

“I told you to stop.” She didn’t want to think about the dream, or death premonition as it were, that she’d been shown. She certainly didn’t want to tell Mavek about it and have others put at risk.

“It’s too late for that.” He leaned forward, dropping his hands on the bed. It gained him a foot or two, but there was still space between them and he didn’t draw nearer, allowing her to feel like she still had room to run.

It was a false sense of security, and one she no longer believed in.

“You’ll spill all your secrets, eventually. I told you before, what’s done is done. Accept it, heart, that’s the only way. Make this easier on the both of us.”

“I never want to do anything for you again,” she snapped, hoping the anger would help chase away the prickling sensation at the back of her eyes. She would not cry. “I hope you’re suffering. I want you to suffer after what you’ve done.”

“What have I done, Arden?” He straightened to his full height, done with placating her. He was tall, his form filling the room with an air of power so thick it was a wonder she wasn’t choking on it. “Tell me.” When she refused to answer, he heaved a disappointed sigh. “I’d hoped enough time had passed for you to come to your senses, but I see that I was wrong. You aren’t ready.”

He shifted back half a step and before she knew what she was doing, Arden was lurching forward, kneeling on the bed to recover those extra inches he’d just placed between them.

She froze, eyes widening in horror. She hadn’t meant to move after him, but the urge had overwhelmed her. The need to not let him leave…

“What…” she swallowed the lump in her throat, confused over what had just happened. “I want you to go.”

“You’re changing,” he said. “You don’t know what you want anymore.”

“No,” she vehemently disagreed, hands clenching into fists on her thighs, “I do.”

He watched as her irritation grew with each passing second. Then he leaned forward again until his face was only a foot away from hers. In the cold room, his warm breath reached out, fanning across her cheeks.

“Do you love me, Arden Rose Archer?” His hazel eyes shimmered in the dark and the air sizzled with the slight tang of magic, a taste she hadn’t been able to perceive before. There was power in names, especially if it was the name of an Unseelie. As a human, Arden’s own was just three words on a piece of paper.

But now…

The truth spilled out of her despite how strongly she fought against it, summoned by him.

“I don’t know,” she breathed, the same answer she’d given the last time he’d played this trick. The same answer that made it hard for her to fall asleep at night—as if the nightmares weren’t enough.

“Come back to me, heart,” he practically cooed, voice lilting, cajoling. That familiar sense of sway wrapped around her shoulders like a blanket, coaxing her to lean closer even as he continued to speak. “Come back. Let me help you.”

Let me help you, he’d said, outside the hospital, under a sprawling willow. The sky had been gray and darkening, rain pattering down around them. He’d flicked open an umbrella, the color of freshly bloomed roses, and held it over her head.

Her mother had died, Arden was grief stricken, and she feared that she and her sister were next.

Let me help you.

“You’re lying,” Arden shook herself free of the sway, the faerie magic that he used to control people and bend them to his will. “You’ve never helped me.”

His jaw clenched a second time and when he pulled back, he did nothing to hide his anger. “No? Who taught you how to do that then? Who taught you how to break free of faerie magic?”

Stubbornly, she bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to answer. He hadn’t said her full name, so she could deny it, but what would be the point of a blatant lie? Mavek had taught her how to defend herself against the fae, how to keep herself safe from them long enough to run.

“I won’t run to you for help,” she told him. “Not again.”

“You will,” he said, and he sounded so sure of himself that an inkling of doubt trickled through her defenses. “But not tonight.”

Suddenly, Mavek’s gaze shot to the open doorway, listening to something that she couldn’t hear. “I didn’t just come to see if you were ready to come back with me,” he admitted then. “A new ruler of the Goblin Market has been selected. I came to share the news.”

“That has nothing to do with me.” Now that Cole was free of his curse, neither she nor her friends had any intention of ever going back to that place.

“Deny it as long as you can,” he said, “but it won’t change anything, Arden. In the end, you are my creature. When you know it, you will come to me. I may have cruelly thrust you into this world, but in this world you are.”

“That’s not—”

“If it weren’t true,” he cut her off coolly, “you wouldn’t have the soon-to-be king of the goblins calling at your front door.”

Arden frowned, glancing quickly at her closed bedroom door before forcing her gaze back to him. Her mouth opened to ask who it was but she stopped herself, not wanting to prove him right on the heels of denying the need for his help.

Still, he knew what she’d been about to do, and the corner of his mouth tipped up, the look of triumph so intense she caught her breath.

“Do you still want me to leave, Arden? Perhaps it’s foe and not friend out there trying to get in.”

“I know which one is in here.” Climbing off the bed, she was glad to find her legs were strong enough to hold her up. It was difficult, turning her back to him, but she did it, heading down the hallway toward the front of the house as if everything was fine. As if she wasn’t feeling a million different emotions.

She didn’t bother checking out the side window, instead gripping the doorknob and yanking the door open with enough force that a gust of icy winter wind was sucked in. A single figure stood on her porch, at first unrecognizable until she glanced down to see the swirl of a misshapen shadow stretching across the wood planks.

“Brix.” She blinked at him, replaying Mavek’s words. “It makes sense that it’d be you.”

He’d been one of the Erlking’s fae, after all. She wasn’t quite sure how the intricacies of fae politics worked—it hadn’t been a priority during her time as a Heartless—but Brix seemed a logical choice in her mind.

As a Lutin, a type of Unseelie who could change their physical form at will, Brix almost never appeared to her as the same person. This time, he had long chocolate hair, tightly pulled back from his face. He was wearing a pale green rain jacket, open wide to expose the gray knitted sweater and faded jeans beneath.

He didn’t look like a powerful supernatural being.

“Interesting choice,” she said, a moment before she felt Mavek enter the living room behind her. She tensed, but didn’t turn toward him.

Brix peered over her shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly. “I thought, perhaps, that you would try and beat me here, Midnight Prince.”

“I’m not the only predictable one,” Mavek replied. “It was obvious that you planned on coming. And I know why. That,” he stepped forward, stopping just behind Arden, close enough that she felt the heat of his body, “is the only reason that I’m allowing your visit to proceed.”

“You can no longer command me,” Brix stated.

“This is my town,” Mavek slipped around Arden, so that he was straddling the doorframe, directly between the two of them. “She is mine. Don’t mistake your new position for absolute power; it is not.”

Before she could think of a way to defuse the situation or deny what he’d said, Mavek turned his head and smirked at her.

“I should give the same warning to you, heart,” he whispered, low enough to make it clear that his words weren’t meant to be overheard. He lifted his hand to tuck a loose strand of her dark hair behind her ear, gritting his teeth when she slapped him away before he could.

“We aren’t friends, Mavek,” she said, alluding to their conversation back in the bedroom.

His anger returned and she held her breath, refusing to back down. This was the first time they’d seen each other in a while. She couldn’t allow herself to appear weak; she had to make her stance clear. To the both of them.

“Speak with the Lutin,” he told her finally, stepping away and out onto the porch, forcing Brix to move or be walked into. “I’ll see you again soon.”

Her nostrils flared—she did not need his permission to talk to Brix—but before she could act on her irritation, he turned from her completely and descended the porch steps. The night seemed to swallow him whole so that no matter how hard she strained to find him, all she could see was black.

“He’s gone,” Brix interrupted, tipping his head in greeting as she gave him her attention. “May I come in, Arden Archer?”

With a sigh, she shoved the door the rest of the way open and dramatically swept her arm out. “Why not? The night’s already a bust.” She certainly wasn’t going to be able to fall back asleep.

Brix entered carefully, scanning his surroundings, taking in her small living room and the adjoining dining area. He’d only ever been inside her house once before after helping to bring Tabby and Cole here.

“So, what do I call you now?” she asked after he’d settled with his back against the breakfast bar that attached the living room to the kitchen. “I sure hope it’s not Erlking 2.0.”

He may have smiled. She couldn’t really tell.

“The crowning hasn’t taken place yet. But even still, just Brix is fine,” he said.

“Don’t you get a new title with the new job?” Mavek was called the Midnight Prince, and Titania was considered a queen. Surely there was more to his new station than simply… Brix.

“I’ve been given a title,” he admitted, “but that’s all it is, and a false one at that.” His gaze drifted to the wide bay window, but if something was out there, Arden couldn’t see it, even with her ever-improving eyesight. “Only a Puck can be a true Autumn Prince.”

She frowned, more than one part of that statement confusing her. As far as she knew, the Erlking had been just that—the Erlking.

“You’ve lost me,” she confessed, more at ease now that Mavek had gone. It was true that the Unseelie currently standing in her living room had tricked her in the past, but he’d been truthful throughout. She didn’t fully trust him because that would be stupid, knowing what he was and all, but she didn’t think he’d hurt her either.

Mavek wouldn’t have left the two of them alone if Brix posed a physical threat.

“I’m one of the strongest of the Erlking’s subjects,” Brix explained, “but there’s an order to this kind of procedure that, in normal circumstances, wouldn’t be passed up. Royal positions in this world are limited, there are only nine spots and as you know, we can live a very long time.”

They could live forever.

“So… someone else should have become the…” she waved a hand in the air, “Autumn Prince?”

He nodded.

“Why was Herla called the Erlking?”

“We don’t always inherit the same titles, Arden. We’re more complicated than that. We come from a different world. Herla was who he was. We need someone to run the Goblin Market and take control of the dark fae he left behind. An Autumn Prince can do that,” Brix told her, “but the one who was offered the job refused it, and so here we are.”

“Why are we here, exactly?” she asked. As interesting as it all was, Arden was hopeful that none of this would matter to her once she broke the curse Mavek had placed. The second that she was no longer changing, she was getting the hell out of this town. It’s what she should have done after her mother died, instead of trusting in all of Mavek’s lies, and she didn’t want to give herself the chance to be sucked in by him again.

“I took this position for a reason.” Brix eased his hands into his pockets.

It wasn’t hard to guess where he was going with this.

“Everett.” Seven years ago, Brix had fallen in love with the Erlking’s Heartless. It had gotten the human killed.

“I couldn’t keep him safe,” he agreed, holding her gaze steadily, knowing his next words weren’t going to go over well. “I won’t make that same mistake with Thomas.”

Arden’s spine stiffened, but she kept her face clear of emotion. “He prefers Eskel.”

“Whichever name he goes by, he is still Everett’s brother, and I still want to protect him.”

“Ditto.”

“Then send him away,” Brix told her. “Send him far away from here, Arden Archer, and from you.”

“I don’t control what he does.” It was so like the fae to assume people’s actions could and should be dictated by others. This was why she could never fully trust one. “Eskel makes his own choices.”

“He stays for you.”

“That—”

“You are changing,” he added, effectively cutting her off. He watched as some of her anger deflated, replaced with the anxiety and doubt that smothered her every waking moment. “You know it can’t be undone. You should accept it. That is the only way forward. It’s not so bad, Arden, being what we are.”

“Oh?” She quirked a brow. “Being an Unseelie is what kept you from being with Everett, remember?”

Brix’s gaze searched her, staring as if he could see right through into her very soul. “Is getting to be with a human all that you want for yourself? Is that the most important thing to you?”

She clenched her jaw, but he continued before she could lose her cool.

“I mean no disrespect,” he bowed his head slightly, “my questions are honest, as is my intent. I didn’t come here to make you uncomfortable, only to try and ease your burden. Moving forward is the only way through this, Arden, for all of us.”

A humorless laugh slipped past her lips. “Now you sound like him.”

“What the Midnight Prince has done to you is cruel, but it is already done. He is not wrong to tell you as much. His motives have always been clear; he wants what’s best for you. He’s trying to make the transition easier.”

“How the hell could turning me into one of you be what’s best for me?” she demanded.

Brix blinked at her, as if she was the crazy one for not understanding. “Were the two of you not in love? Did you not wish to be with him? Why deny what everyone already knows is true? You asked for his heart so he found a way to give it to you, yet now you are angry.”

“Keep talking like that and I’m going to kick you out,” she said between clenched teeth. “You’re twisting things. That’s all you people ever do. Twist things until it suits you.”

“You loved him.”

“It doesn’t matter if I loved him!” she yelled, losing control for a split second. She barely registered the burst of power around the room as the lamp on the end table rocked and the TV remotes slid an inch across the smooth mahogany coffee table.

“Breathe, Arden Archer,” Brix urged, trying to comfort her but it was too late.

“He never asked me if I wanted to be fae,” she said. “He never asked me, Brix, and that’s all that matters.”

“Then why don’t you hate him?”

“I do hate him!”

“I was waiting outside for quite a while,” he told her. “I heard what the Midnight Prince asked you. I heard your reply.”

Which meant he’d also heard Mavek use her full name. Before she could break out in a cold sweat, Brix held up a hand.

“I won’t use it.”

“How can I trust that?”

“What would you like me to give you to prove it?”

A headache was starting to form and she pressed her fingers against her temple. “I’d like for this conversation to be over.”

For a moment, she was met with silence, and then, “Very well.” He turned to leave.

“Wait.”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder at her.

“That’s not what I want. If you want to prove to me that you’ll never use my name, that you can be trusted, then promise you’ll keep Eskel safe. No matter what.”

Brix shifted on his heels, turning back to fully face her. “That’s what I came here to demand of you, Arden Archer. We want the same thing.”

“I can’t force him to leave,” she repeated, “we’re humans, and our relationships don’t work like that. So I’m asking you to keep him safe. From anything. From anyone.”

“You’re afraid you’re going to hurt him yourself,” he said, a bit awed by that realization.

“That energy burst a moment ago didn’t come from you, Brix.” As much she wanted to deny it, she knew that he and Mavek were right about some things. She was changing, and those changes were scary and unknown. “I didn’t mean to do it. It just happened. If it happens again when Eskel or one of the others is around…”

His brow furrowed. “I knew you feared what you were becoming, but I didn’t realize you feared yourself this deeply. Perhaps you should reconsider what you said to the Midnight Prince.”

“We aren’t seriously back to this, are we?”

“I understand you feel wronged—that you were wronged,” he corrected before she could disagree, “but…” he sighed. “We live a long time. Even the strongest of angers fade, Arden Archer.”

They lived for an eternity.

Soon, so would she.

“You shouldn’t still be doing this.” Sighing, Arden tipped her head back and closed her eyes, enjoying the heat of the sun slipping through the thick branches above her. They were deep in the woods, far from the roads and any signs of human life.

Behind her, Eskel moved around a ring of toadstools, his boots crunching in the fine layer of frost that had encased the ground overnight. When he’d arrived at her place this morning, he’d mentioned his worry that the faerie ring had died in the cold, but she’d known better. It was hard to kill something Unseelie.

“It beats leaving ourselves vulnerable,” Cole said, as he stood, shoulder propped against the thick trunk of the oak tree that sat just a few feet from the ring of mushrooms.

Eskel had discovered the ring when he’d first arrived in town searching for his brother. At the time, he’d believed that it allowed him to see creatures such as spirits and ghosts. Now, he and the others knew the truth––knew how dangerous it all really was––but they’d insisted they come here anyway.

“My sight only just started wearing off,” he told her, not for the first time, as he took his final turn around the ring. “With any luck, I won’t have to come here again for a while.”

Nine circles around the outside would gift a human with the sight and allow them to see the fae, as Arden could. The only difference was that their sight wouldn’t last forever. In the beginning, Eskel had come to the ring twice in order to keep his sight going, but the effects seemed to be lasting longer than before. This was his first time since the end of the Tithe.

“I can’t believe you’re calling that luck,” Arden grumbled, turning to watch as he switched places with Cole and the latter began to take his turns around the ring.

“Yes, you can.” Eskel walked over to her, slipping his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. He bent slightly at the knees, putting them at eye level and blocking Arden’s view of Cole. He grinned when he had her attention. “Come on, this is practically our normal.”

Part of her thought that she should flinch at his words, but he had a point. The two of them had come here before when he’d confessed how and why he had the sight. Hell, their whole friendship was built on the weird and unexplainable. Without it, they never would have met.

“That doesn’t mean I want it to keep being that way,” she said.

“Personally,” Cole called, on either his seventh or eighth turn, “I plan on doing this for the rest of my life. Even if we break your new curse, or whatever it is—”

“When,” Eskel corrected.

“—when we break your new curse, that won’t change the things that we know. We can never really go back, Arden. Can you honestly tell me you’d be fine walking the streets without the sight? Knowing that there are probably things surrounding you, and you just can’t see them?” He shuddered dramatically. “I’m not.”

Cole’s ties to the Goblin Market had given him the ability to see the Unseelie, but he’d lost that when his curse was broken. For the first few days he’d panicked, refusing to leave Arden’s house. It wasn’t until Eskel had mentioned the faerie ring in the woods that Cole had finally shown a sign of relief. It was the only reason Arden was out here with them now, and why she’d taken Cole here herself that first time.

“I spent an entire year of my life trying to get rid of the sight, and now here we all are talking about how our lives might depend on us never losing it. Ironic, huh?” she asked, kicking at one of the small pebbles slightly imbedded in the solid ground. It slipped free of the bed of moss it’d been lodged in and flew across the forest floor, smashing into the low trunk of a nearby tree. The sound was like a gunshot going off a mile or so away.

“You’re getting stronger,” Eskel pointed out, still staring off at where the pebble had struck. There was a tiny imprint in the wood now, and in the thin branches above, a couple squirrels darted around frantically, bushy, gray tails flicking at the air as they searched for danger.

A strong wind blew and the leaves brushed against one another, the loud rustling momentarily preventing any possibility of answering. The air was thick with the smell of frozen dirt and ice, even with the midmorning sun high in the sky. It wouldn’t be long now before they got their first snow. Arden wasn’t sure how she knew that. But she did.

“There’s a group of pixies over in those trees,” she stretched out her left arm, pointing, “and the kelpie the Erlking used against me that one time, he’s still there. That way.” With her right arm, she pointed to the south. “I can feel them. It’s like, a light buzzing sensation up my spine. A heat, actually, that might be a better way to describe it. I know they’re there.”

Cole frowned at her. “That’s pretty intense. I didn’t know all Unseelie could do that.”

“What do you mean?” Eskel asked.

“It’s just, some of the fae in the market used to play tricks on one another. They’d sneak up on the others, stuff like that. Kind of weird they were able to if they could easily sense another of their kind hiding behind the tablecloth.”

“Maybe it only works generally,” Arden suggested. “I only know they’re in that direction. I don’t know their exact position.” She’d initially assumed that her abilities just weren’t fully developed—she was still very human at the moment, after all—but maybe that wasn’t the case.

“They wouldn’t be able to avoid or fight one another if they could pinpoint each other’s locations like that,” Cole nodded his head in agreement with her assessment.

If humans were aware enough, they could typically feel the magic of a faerie when in close proximity to one. It felt a lot like a calling, a yearning, only for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. The Unseelie’s favorite pastime was making a person feel like there was a hole inside of them, and then offering to fill it up. What Arden felt now, however, was different. There was no want on her part, only recognition.

“What if only some fae can do it?” Eskel tapped at his chin, unwittingly drawing Arden’s attention to the heavy metal ring on his middle finger. Even knowing what the ring stood for, he’d been unable to get rid of it. Couldn’t bring himself to toss out the last physical link he had to his older brother. Arden understood.

Besides, it wasn’t like she’d told him about the premonition the Erlking had shared with her. She’d kept that from everyone, not just Mavek.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, spinning on her heels and starting the trek back to civilization without waiting for them to reply or follow. It felt too good out here in the woods where it was silent and the life around her was green and brown. She reached out as she walked, caressing the branch of a blackberry bush as she went.

Even though it was too late in the season for berries, a few remaining fruit pressed against her fingertips, and she pulled them back wet and sticky.

When she glanced down, her hand was stained red.

Cato was waiting for them when they came out of the woods, his copper hair vibrant even from across the street. His feet were braced shoulder-width apart as if he expected conflict.

“Now might be a good time to sharpen those thorns, Arden Archer,” he called across the asphalt as she and the others stepped out from the edge of the forest.

“My thorns have never been dull, Unseelie.” She paused, the tips of her pale pink Converse high tops just over the traffic line. They’d been friends, back when she was a child, but that had ended the moment Mavek had claimed her as his Heartless knight. She still trusted him more than she could the rest of his kind, but Cato was an Unseelie at the end of the day.

And one of Mavek’s, at that.

“What are you doing here?” Eskel was the first to ask, coming up on Arden’s left side protectively, despite knowing none of them stood a real chance against a fae as strong as the Puck across from them.

“It’s been weeks,” Cole added, hanging back a step on Arden’s right.

“I’ve been around,” Cato said, catching her gaze. The stormy gray color of his eyes, so different from her own brown ones, swirled and flashed silver in the sunlight. When the wind shook the coppery strands of his short hair, she thought she caught the sound of bells jingling in the distance. “And Arden should have been expecting me today. Isn’t that right, Heartless?”

“I’m not a Heartless anymore,” she stated.

He lifted a broad shoulder absently. “It’s unclear, as of yet, what I should be calling you now. I’ll stick to habit until that changes. You understand.”

“Well I don’t,” Eskel waved his hand between them, clearly irritated, “what the hell do you mean she knew you were coming?”

Arden clenched her jaw, sending a glare Cato’s way before heaving a heavy sigh and admitting, “Mavek stopped by last night.”

“What?!” Parroting each other, the two turned on her instantly.

“What the hell, A?” Cole practically growled.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Eskel demanded.

Cato clucked his tongue, until all eyes were back on him. Then he rolled his head skyward and rocked back on his heels. “You are aware that she owes you nothing, correct? After saving both of your lives, you should be more respectful.”

Arden blinked, her mouth slightly agape in awe.

“Did you just…” Eskel seemed just as shocked as she was, “defend her?”

Cato didn’t reply, merely stared back unflinchingly until the others dropped their gazes. As Mavek’s right hand man, it was always hard to tell exactly where he stood. He’d helped them out in the past; he’d gotten them all safely to Arden’s after the Tithe, and prior to that night had spent the better part of his time trying to convince Arden to let Eskel go in order to protect him.

She’d tried, eventually, but eventually had ultimately been too late.

“What did the Midnight Prince want?” Cole asked then, bringing them back to the topic at hand. He was tense at her side, obviously annoyed at her for keeping Mavek’s visit a secret, but he didn’t want to argue in front of their fae audience.

“There’s a new regent in town,” Cato answered for her. “His crowning is tonight. You’ll need to be there, Arden.”

“Why? She isn’t a Heartless. She’s not bound to those types of things like before.” As a Heartless himself, Cole had also been required to attend certain faerie events. The regents enjoyed showing their humans off, giving the Unseelie a chance to peek at the contenders for the new Tithe.

“Every faerie in town needs to be there,” Cato said. “It’s the law. If she doesn’t go, it’ll be counted as treason and not even the Midnight Prince will be able to shield her from punishment.”

“I’m not one of you.” Arden gave in to the urge to press her palms against her eyes, a headache already starting to pound against her skull.

“Not fully,” he agreed, waiting until she dropped her arms to look at him once more. “But you aren’t one of them anymore either.” He didn’t have to make any motions for her to understand he was referring to the guys at her side.

“How much of me is still human, and how much is fae?” she asked, surprising herself with the blatant question. It was painful, like opening a fresh wound and asking to be poked there. But she needed to know. It’d been three weeks and each day had been grueling in its own way. The constant dread that new oddities would appear, as she slowly discovered that she could see in the dark, or smell rain before the clouds even grayed…. When she woke up, it was always with the fear of the unknown at the forefront of her mind.

How different would she be today?

How noticeable would it be to others?

“To tell you the truth,” Cato said, voice dropping in an attempt to be gentle, a departure from his trickster nature, “I’m not entirely sure. I could feel you coming before, that’s how I knew to wait here.”

“You could tell me apart from Eskel and Cole, you mean.”

He nodded his head. At his back, a crow let out a loud cry and burst out of the confining branches of a tree, shooting upward to skate across the light blue sky.

“Creepy,” Cole mumbled under his breath, but Arden was too busy studying Cato.

“I didn’t come to talk about this,” he told her. “I only came to deliver the message, and so I have. The crowning is tonight, you know where. Be there at eight o’clock and don’t be late. There are too many eyes on you right now for you to risk even the slightest form of rebellion.”

“Does that mean you won’t be taking me there yourself?” He’d been one of the faeries sent to tail her these past weeks. She’d known, even though he’d kept to the shadows and stayed out of her way. “Guess I’ll have a new stalker tonight.”

“You can escort yourself,” he told her. “Everyone will be on their best behavior. There’s no risk you’ll be harmed, and arriving alone shows that you’re doing so willingly.”

“I don’t have anything to prove to them.” Even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. If she wanted to stay safe, keep her friends safe, she had to play the game.

Cato didn’t bother dignifying her with a response, turning instead to wag a finger between Eskel and Cole. “You two, don’t do anything foolish. Stay home.”

Eskel opened his mouth to argue, but Arden stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“He’s right,” she said. “If a human shows up, it’s only going to cause a ruckus. You guys can’t be anywhere near there.”

“He hasn’t even told us where ‘there’ is,” Cole pointed out, tone petulant. He’d never liked being left out, even when it could get him killed.

She debated whether or not to tell them, but there were so few people she had on her side at the moment. Keeping them in the dark wasn’t going to help anyone.

“Rose Manor,” she said, watching Cato’s unreadable expression never waver as she did. “It’s at Rose Manor.”

“This is such a bad idea, A.” Tabby kicked her feet against the counter in the storeroom of Howl Books. They were working the afternoon shift, but since it was so close to winter break, the place had been dead since their arrival.

Arden silently cursed Cole for immediately calling his cousin and telling her about Cato as she stacked another box of science textbooks in the corner of the room. They’d accidentally ordered an extra two hundred, and their boss was struggling to work with the distributers on returning them for a full refund.

“I just want to focus on this,” she said, lifting another box while Tabby watched, giving no indication that she was about to leap down to lend a hand. Heavy lifting for her small frame, she grunted. “You know, this very normal problem?”

Her friend rolled her eyes and leaned back, clunking her head against the pale gray wall. “Look, I get it, it’s been weeks and now suddenly the guy shows back up and asks you to a party. But—”

“Don’t try and psychoanalyze me.” Arden snapped, dropping the box in frustration.

“I’m just saying, it’s okay to want to be around him. I’m not going to judge you for being unsure.”

“I’m not.” Why did everyone keep bringing that up? What did it matter what she may or may not feel toward Mavek? “After what he did, that ship has sailed. You of all people should be trying to remind me of that right now, not—” she waved her hand in the air, “—doing whatever this is.”

“It’s called being supportive.”

“Yeah, well, it’s pissing me off.” In the past, having someone tell her it was okay to have feelings for the Unseelie would have made her ecstatic. Now all it did was make her sick to her stomach, with either guilt or dread. Possibly both. “He was going to kill you.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Tabby said, “I absolutely hate the guy.”

“Then what’s the point of this weird pep talk?”

Tabby’s gaze softened. “I’ve been watching you struggle with yourself, Arden. You keep telling us that you’re fine and you’re dealing with it, but we’ve been friends a long time. Cole can see it too; it’s just that he doesn’t think it’s his place anymore to say anything. You were in love with Mavek for a year; it’s okay that you’re struggling to let go.”

Her friend nibbled on her bottom lip, contemplating her next words carefully, and then dropped down onto her feet. “As your best friend, I do have to say, you are going to have to let go eventually. You’re right; he’s done way too much damage to be forgiven. Which is also why going tonight is stupid and risky. What if this is just another trap?”

Arden had spent the whole day wondering that herself, playing out all the possibilities. In the end, however, it didn’t matter if it was or it wasn’t.

“Have you guys found any leads on how to stop me from changing?” she asked, and when Tabby immediately dropped her gaze, clucked her tongue. “Exactly. That’s why I have to be there. If there’s even a chance what Cato said was true, I don’t really have a choice, no matter how long we talk about it.”

“Then at least take us with you.”

“Absolutely not.” She’d already spent an hour having this argument with the guys. “It’s too dangerous.”

“It’s safe enough for you to take the risk,” Tabby argued.

Arden gave her a pointed look, and then firmly reminded her, “I’m the only one of us who’s Unseelie.”

“Starting to be,” she corrected with a huff, refusing to meet Arden’s gaze. “We’ll stop it. We will.”

Arden tried not to flinch. She really wanted to believe Tabby, but inwardly she was starting to give in to her fear of failure. How many people had to tell her it was impossible before she accepted it? By keeping them around, she was putting her friends in danger, and for what?

Mavek was a liar and none of the fae could be trusted, but Brix had always been open with her, and so had Cato. Neither of them had come to aid her these past weeks, and they’d all clearly known what she was trying to do. Either they too were unaware of how to stop her transformation, or they were afraid of getting involved and pissing off the Midnight Prince.

Outside the storeroom, they heard the bell jingle over the front door and Tabby sighed. “Hold that thought while I take this customer.”

Arden waited until she could hear her friend greet whoever had just entered the store, then pulled out her cell phone to check the time. Her shift had technically ended ten minutes ago, and if she didn’t leave now, she was going to be late to the crowning. She debated whether or not to say bye to Tabby before she left but decided against it, knowing she’d only try to convince her to not go alone.

Instead she slipped out the back, shutting the metal door with a light clang behind her. There was a wide, empty parking lot behind Howl Books that was never used. It was adjacent to a small part of the woods that rimmed their campus. For a moment, Arden stared into the dark spaces between the trees, breathing in the crisp air as she tried to feel for… something.

If there was someone out there watching her, she couldn’t sense them. The weird new ability was still developing, ebbing and flowing so that sometimes she had only her sight to rely on. She didn’t like to admit it, but those were the times when she was most afraid.

She hated that. Somehow, she’d come to rely on yet another oddity about herself that she wanted desperately to change. Back when she’d been trying to rid herself of the sight, many people had told her the same thing, mentioning how she’d miss it and feel lost. Arden didn’t want to miss this. Didn’t want to get used to these new sensations.

“Power can be addicting,” she whispered, jolting slightly at the sound of her own voice. With a sharp shake of her head, she got moving, walking around to the side of the store where she’d left her bike chained and ready. It sucked that she would have to use it on such a cold night, but there was no way in hell she was going to call Mavek and ask him to send a car.

She’d meant it when she’d told him that she didn’t want to run to him for help anymore. She just prayed she’d be able to stick to that sentiment.

Just as she was about to push off on her bike, her phone dinged in her pocket and she paused. Expecting a text from Tabby, she was surprised to see Eskel’s name on the screen. Clicking the message open, her eyes scanned the brief text.

<Good luck, and call me if you need anything.>

She was about to shove the device back into her pocket when it dinged a second time.

<Seriously. Anything, Arden. Even if it’s just pizza at Tollbooth’s.>

The corner of her mouth tipped up as she thought about their first conversation at the pizzeria back when he’d first arrived in town. Even then, knowing that she shouldn’t, she’d been unable to resist getting to know him.

Her smile died. It was also why he’d been dragged into this mess in the first place: her lack of self-control. What she’d told Brix last night had been accurate––she couldn’t control what Eskel did. But she had say over her own actions, and putting him in danger because she felt lonely or sad… She didn’t want that.

She didn’t want to be selfish.

The manor looked as it always did, a mixture of gothic beauty and neglect. A fountain sat in the front yard, a stone statue of a woman missing an arm and part of her leg at its center. The ground around it was frozen, the frosty grass untouched, allowed to grow wild under Mavek’s rule. The front gate was made of metal, covered in twisting vines with thorns the size of her fingernails. Lining the gate's bars were iron thorns, a detail Arden had never noticed until she’d begun to change.

Arden drove her bike straight through the open doors, trying not to let her heart rate increase. She’d done this a hundred times––driven right up this windy driveway and straight to the massive brick manor––but it felt different somehow.

Candle flames flickered in every single one of the windows, some covered with gossamer curtains that threatened to come too close to the light and catch fire. The front doors, two tall black monstrosities with silver handles, stood ominously at the back of the wide front porch.

She avoided them, parking her bike farther in than usual and propping it against the side of the house. Typically, the parties held here took place on the grounds in the back—even last year’s Christmas celebration—so she knew where to go.

The ground crunched beneath her sneakers as she walked, and she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her pink coat to hide their slight tremor. After all that had happened, the excitement that she used to feel at arriving here to see Mavek was gone. Only dread weighed in the pit of her stomach, thick like molasses, sticking to her insides as she moved.

She heard the music long before she’d reached the peeling white wicker trellis that acted as an entrance to the immediate backyard. The notes were high, a mournful tune whistling in the wind. She’d listened to the string instrument enough times now to be able to identify it. She’d never heard him play this particular song before, but Arden recognized Mavek’s playing. Even before she entered the revelry, she knew exactly where to find him.

The backyard had another porch, this one made of stone, which stretched out into the yard. On its right was the entrance Arden had just used, while the left featured a massive courtyard with sprawling pillars and strings of glowing orb-shaped lights. A large table––usually filled with more food than one could imagine––was now empty save for one thing.

The Midnight Prince stood at its center, chin tucked against his instrument as he played to the masses below, their eyes lifted toward him.

He wasn’t paying attention to them, though. He caught Arden’s gaze and held it, the distance between them causing his hazel eyes to appear as black as the night. The lights reflected off his glossy hair, causing a gleam of blue to form around the top of his head almost like a false halo. The temperature had dropped drastically since she’d left Howl Books, but he didn’t seem to mind the bite of winter, dressed only in a pair of snow-white pants and a long pea coat to match. His bare chest displayed his tattoos, the dark lines and bright red ink a sharp contrast to his pale attire.

If this was a crowning, Mavek must want to remind everyone of the vast number of tithes he’d won over the many decades they’d lived here. He wanted to exert his power, show his strengths. Remind the Unseelie that this was his home, and that they were in his territory, even if this ceremony was about someone else.

“This is a dangerous place to be, little mouse,” a deep voice resonated from the darkness at her left then, catching her attention.

Arden tore her gaze away from Mavek, eyes vainly searching the spot in the shadows where she now knew someone stood. Whoever he was, he was tucked against the side of the house, partially shielded by the leaves of a large bush.

“Oh,” the speaker said then, his surprise apparent, “not a mouse at all I see. My apologies. You must be Arden Archer. I accidentally mistook you for a regular Bloodheart. Please excuse the insult.”

“It wasn’t an insult at all,” she replied tersely, still straining to make his figure out. Each time her eyes focused on something, her vision grew cloudy and she lost it. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I don’t like being seen,” he told her nonchalantly. “You understand.”

“I don’t like talking to invisible people,” she retaliated, feigning that she was turning away to dismiss him, pausing only when he chuckled.

“Touché.” Stepping just slightly out of the shadows, his form materialized long enough that she could see the details of his face. He didn’t appear to be much older than she was, with a soft expression and pouty full lips. What gave him away were his eyes. Ocean blue, the timeless sadness contained within their depths impossible to miss.

“Who are you?” Arden asked, more wistfully than she intended. With a start, she realized she could hear the sea––waves crashing against a rocky shore, the sound of gulls calling to one another above. The taste of briny air coated her tongue when she inhaled, and she felt a warm breeze caress her skin.

“Does it really matter?” He tilted his head and a strand of curly black hair fell over one eye. “I think the question that you should be asking is who you are, Arden Archer. Or, more importantly, who you want to be.”

She frowned. “What?”

“Next time,” he said, already stepping back into the shadows. They wrapped around him as if they were alive, shielding him faster than she could blink.

She was about to go after him, had just lifted her foot to do so, when a strong hand took hers, tugging her back.

Mavek interlaced their fingers, tightening his grip as if afraid she would pull away. His voice was low and seductive when he spoke, though it lacked the sway she half-expected. “Where are you going, heart?”

Arden shook her head, because what was there to say? That she was going after one of his strange fae? It sounded weird even to her own ears, and he would definitely use it against her, taking her sudden interest as a sign that she wanted to stay and be a part of his world after all.

At his back the Unseelie continued to celebrate, most not bothering with glamour or disguises, flaunting their true forms. A few creatures with spindly arms and legs were climbing one of the pillars to reach up and grasp at low hanging leaves from a nearby maple. Others laughed and watched as a pixie, a small creature no larger than a coke can, was chased around a stone table by a set of sylvans.

Sylvans had an ethereal beauty, which they used to lure humans into the woods and to their ultimate deaths. Even Arden had a hard time looking away from the two of them, momentarily caught up in the spill of fire-red hair and sharp green eyes.

She shook her head to break the trance. Far more of them were gathered than she’d ever seen before, even at the Tithe. It made her uncomfortable––worried, even––and she glanced at Mavek suspiciously, her unease only growing when she found that he was staring back attentively. In his free hand he held his violin and bow, and when she glanced at it his grip shifted, as if he knew where her thoughts were headed.

“The crowning will begin soon,” he told her, easing nearer when a group of Unseelie who looked as if they were made of tree bark walked past, almost close enough to brush against them. “We’re expected at the front. I’ve saved us seats.”

“I came, didn’t I?” she said, even as he turned and began weaving them through the crowded yard. “That should be enough.” The last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near the actual ceremony. None of this had anything to do with her, not really, and she needed to work on separating herself from all of this.

When she’d been a Heartless, she’d grown accustomed to being summoned to the manor, attending events and revelries. She’d even convinced herself that the only reason for her presence was duty, not because she’d do anything to be closer to Mavek. She’d been a fool to think that she’d hidden her feelings from him and his people. To believe that she could get away unscathed with loving something like him.

Arden had spent her entire life monitoring the fae from afar. She should have known better.

“You hardly dressed the part,” he replied, dissatisfaction clear in his tone and the way his gaze briefly dropped down the length of her body.

It’d been a small act of defiance on her part, she had to admit, choosing not to change out of her daily clothes. The black jeans and knit sweater beneath her coat were comfortable, and while she might be in the process of changing, she still wasn’t a fan of wearing a skirt in this weather.

“I was only told to be here,” she said, pretending not to notice the way his jaw clenched.

Silent the rest of the way, Mavek brought them across the grounds, further from the manor and deeper into the fielded area where at least half a dozen bonfires raged, each surrounded by mini celebrations. Some fae were dancing, while others held morsels speared by sticks over the brightly burning flames, smacking their lips in anticipation.

Just past the largest bonfire, a long table had been set out. All ten chairs had tall, curved backs, and were made from a polished wood. Arden had never seen the set before, but was also distracted by what had been organized across the tabletop.

Each place setting was composed of an ivory plate rimmed in gold, accompanied by a wine glass filled halfway with a deep, dark, blue liquid. The plates were empty, but the knives and forks hinted at the feast to come. A large candelabrum crowned the center of the table, the biggest source of light outside of the vibrant moon hovering overhead.

Mavek led her to one end of the table, lowering her into a seat at the right before taking the head for himself. A few others already hovered there, but as soon as the Midnight Prince settled into his chair, suddenly the rest followed.

Titania floated forward, her long silver hair cascading over her thin shoulders. She was dressed in a gossamer gown with pearl beading, and a necklace wrapped around her throat that appeared to be made of seaweed. She took the spot on Mavek’s left, eyeing Arden with a coy half-smile as if trying to get a feel for her. Arden kept her expression blank. Once upon a time, she’d been jealous of the Unseelie queen. She’d hated seeing her touch Mavek, but now…

As if reading her thoughts, Titania slowly lifted a hand and ran the tips of her oval-shaped nails down the length of Mavek’s arm. Her eyes, the color of an oil spill complete with rainbow sheen, lighted with mirth.

A sharp sensation stabbed the center of Arden’s chest, and she was horrified to find herself reaching beneath the table for the knife tucked into her boot. The move was subtle, and she doubted anyone had seen her hand twitch, but when she glanced at Mavek her breath caught in her throat.

He didn’t move away from Titania, his body gone still, allowing the queen to continue playing with the cuff of his sleeve. Just as the tease in Titania’s movements was clear, the challenge in his eyes was impossible to overlook. They wanted to get a rise out of her, working together either on purpose or as a happy coincidence. Arden felt a rush of heat color her cheeks and clenched her jaw, hoping they’d interpret the flush of embarrassment as annoyance.

She used to be jealous, she reminded herself vehemently. Not anymore, because she and Mavek were over.

The table was completely filled now, and someone at the far end cleared his throat, putting a stop to the nonsense taking place among the three of them. Arden pulled her gaze away and turned.

Brix, in the same body as the one Arden had first met him in, was now across the table from Mavek at the other head seat. His red hair was wild around his narrow face, as if he’d merely finger combed the locks a moment prior. He was dressed differently than usual, the rust-colored coat with golden buttons more formal than she’d seen him wear. Beneath it was a forest-green dress shirt only partially buttoned, the collar open to expose the choker––fashioned from a twig––at his tanned throat. A small leaf hung from its center, still alive.

He rapped his fingers against the tabletop in a move very akin to the Erlking, drawing everyone’s attention. The revelry came to a sudden and soundless stop. All bodies paused, heads turning his way. No one bothered moving any closer, stilling where they were, whether that was next to the bonfire or all the way across the field at the manor.

“Are you ready to begin?” an Unseelie Arden didn’t recognize asked. The male was seated at Brix’s right, dressed in a blue so pale it was practically white, and would probably pass for human if not for his eyes. Silver, they shone like coins catching the light from beneath the shallow waters of a clear stream. His head turned her way and he smiled, though he didn’t lift his gaze.

Arden’s spine stiffened, and then she noticed a different male seated next to Brix reach for his fork. He lifted it and placed the tines down against the table, spinning the handle almost absently, but with enough force that the tip of the utensil started lightly carving the smooth wooden surface. His wavy chestnut hair was styled off his forehead, paired with a brown suit that hinted more at business professional than Unseelie reveler. He hadn’t bothered with a coat, clearly unaffected by the chill air.

Outside of the three she knew, the others around the table didn’t look nearly as regal as the two strange fae. She figured they must be stand-ins, present to give the appearance of a full set. The rest of the regents in this realm were probably too far from here to attend.

“We shall begin,” Titania announced then, finally pulling her hand away from Mavek so that she could clap them together.

The sound echoed, and a second later a tall fae stepped up to Brix’s side, holding a tarnished golden tray. A crown rested there, thorny looking, with small leaves made of gold and copper tucked between the metal vines. He presented it to the male with the fork, and waited.

For a moment, all the male did was stare, face angled away so that Arden couldn’t make out his expression. Then he clucked his tongue and reached for the item, picking up the crown and standing at the same time, forcing the servant to retreat from the table in order to make room. He stepped around, coming up just behind Brix, and brought the crown to hover over the top of his head.

“A king has passed and a prince has risen,” the faerie began, his voice lifting on the wind to be carried off to those far from them, “so here we gather to crown anew. From this night forth, he shall be keeper of the Night Market and ruler of all fae who dwell within its confines. Do you accept this regency, Lutin Brix?”

“I do.” Brix sat still, his hands flat on the table, eyes straight forward. It was hard to tell if he was staring at Mavek, or if the Midnight Prince was merely in his line of sight because of their seating arrangements. “I accept the role, and all its accompanying responsibilities.”

“Then I, the King of Wonder, hereby officially crown you the Autumn Prince. With this crown, let your power grow so that you can protect your station and its people.” He settled the crown atop Brix’s head, then stepped back and took his seat once more.

The silence stretched on, all eyes on Brix as his crown began to glow, dimly at first, before brightening so intensely Arden had to look away or risk being blinded. As quickly as the light had come, it diminished, and when she was able to glance back, she saw that Brix’s skin had taken on a glittering sheen.

Conversation restarted almost immediately followed by the sounds of music and laughter, the revelry picking back up as if someone had hit play again.

“An Autumn Prince carries the power of the setting sun within him,” Mavek was suddenly whispering into the curve of her ear. “From now on, Brix will glow.”

It wasn’t overtly evident, similar to if someone had taken pale, golden body glitter and rubbed it over every inch of exposed skin.

“Even if he changes form?” Arden found herself asking, watching as Brix and the pale fae at his right both lifted their glasses in a toast.

“Even then,” Mavek clarified.

“It’ll be harder for him to hide.” That was the main ability of a Lutin. They were shapeshifters. What did it mean for him now if he could no longer fully rely on that power?

“He’s stronger now than typical Unseelie,” Mavek told her. “As a prince, anyone who isn’t also royal will be inclined to follow his orders. It won’t be easy to harm him, and no lower level fae would risk trying. There’s no need to worry.”

“I’m not.” A lie, and they both knew it.

He allowed it, pulling back to resettle in his chair a moment before Titania requested he join her in a toast. Trays of food were brought out, some strange and oddly colored, while others, like the small Cornish hens, were easily recognizable. Faerie servants, who came and went with a speed that humans could never manage, filled all of the plates.

Arden barely noticed the fare placed before her, too busy watching Brix carry on a conversation with those down at his end of the table. For someone who’d just been given immense power, he didn’t look pleased. In fact, when he lifted his head as if sensing her watching, and met her gaze, his sadness was palpable.

She shouldn’t have gone off on her own, but she couldn’t stop her feet from moving. Arden swept across the grounds quickly, ignoring those who turned to peer her way, hoping they’d assume that she was merely trying to escape the chill of the night. To further the charade, she tugged her pea coat’s wide collar tips closer together, hunching her shoulders slightly, despite the fact it might make her appear weak.

Weakness, at the moment, wasn’t her greatest concern.

She hadn’t touched any of the food, not a single morsel. It’d been hard enough to stomach her surroundings––all of the royal fae seated and grinning while the revelry raged on around them. Screams and cries for help had intermingled with shouts of joy, but shouts of any kind had seemingly gone unnoticed. Not even Brix had tipped his head in their direction.

And the whole time Titania had sidled as close to Mavek as she could get, leaning in to whisper in his ear every so often, words spoken too low for Arden to make out.

She’d thought she was going to be sick.

The second they’d all seemed distracted enough, she’d left the table as fast as she could, with no real destination in mind. The first structure that had come into view was the greenhouse, situated far off the main section of the grounds. Chances were good that no one would be in there, and she’d hurried toward it, desperate to have a moment to herself to breathe.

The crowning had happened—did that mean she was free to go? Could she risk it?

The Unseelie were already wary of her, some even angry because of what had happened to the Erlking. Pissing them off and drawing more attention to herself was a surefire way of getting either herself or her friends seriously injured. She couldn’t go through what she’d experienced at the Tithe again. None of them could.

Cole was still damaged from his time tied to the Night Market. He ate everything in sight, never went anywhere without a couple of snacks in his bag, and carried around bottles of flavored water like they were going off on a hike through the desert at any moment. Now that his taste had returned, he was even eating foods he used to hate.

A week ago, Arden had caught him shoving cranberries in his mouth at lunch. He’d been allergic to them his whole life. In the end, he’d said the hives were worth it.

He wasn’t the only one still hurting.

Tabby frequently had nightmares and would call Arden up in the middle of the night sobbing. She hadn’t been able to shake the image of those water fae coming for her, or the way they’d mobbed the Erlking as soon as he was tossed to them in Tabby’s stead. During the day, she was able to put on a brave face, and could walk the streets alone like nothing had ever happened. She even pretended not to see any of the Unseelie around her, despite her newly gifted sight. As soon as the darkness crept in however…

Then there was Eskel, who’d come all this way believing he was chasing ghosts only to discover the truth was far more monstrous. His brother had been executed for falling in love with an Unseelie, and Eskel himself was almost sacrificed as well. He didn’t seem to care that it was his connection to Arden that had led him to the Tithe that day.

But she did.

She felt responsible for every single one of her friends, and it was eating her up inside, warring with the other twisted emotions she couldn’t seem to shake loose. She’d dug her nails deep into the flesh of her palm each and every time Titania had trailed her talons up Mavek’s arm. She’d bitten the inside of her cheek whenever he’d bent toward the queen, giving her his ear willingly, as if what she had to say was the most fascinating thing in the world.

Arden hated that she couldn’t separate herself from her past emotions––from that need she’d carried within her for over twelve months. She should one-hundred-percent despise the Midnight Prince for everything he’d put her through, for being the cause of so much of her pain, and yet…

What he’d said the other night hadn’t been completely without merit. He had taught her a great deal about how to defend herself against his kind. Prior to meeting him, she’d known very little, if any, martial arts. Her fighting skills had been limited to the occasional shove. Her strength as a human couldn’t compare to an Unseelie’s, but knowing how to fight meant knowing it wasn’t always about brute strength.

He hadn’t just trained her in hand-to-hand combat either. With one of the throwing daggers tucked in her boots, Arden could hit a moving target dead center from over twenty feet away if she had to. She remembered, when she’d first started training with the weapons, how excited she’d be whenever Mavek praised her. How she’d feel a flush coming on and would have to explain it away as exertion.

Her mother had been too sick to give either of her daughters much attention, let alone commend them for their good deeds or skills. A part of Arden, the part secretly seeking approval, had felt more than just pleased when the Midnight Prince told her that she had a natural talent at throwing knives.

The greenhouse was warm and inviting when Arden finally reached it. Stepping through the doors was like entering another world, one filled with nothing but roses and the thick, heady scent of them. They came in different shades of red. A patch of crimson ones bloomed to her left, while a group the color of ripe cherries grew at her right. There was a rose garden further down the manor’s grounds, with a stone path that formed a sort of maze with various sharp twists and turns.

The greenhouse had been set up similarly, and Arden trailed straight down the path before her, careful not to reach out to touch any of the flowers or their hidden thorns.

Once, she’d caught Mavek and Titania in here. The memory made her frown, then immediately scold herself. She was all the way on the other side of the greenhouse when she felt it, that slight pressure on her spine. That knowing.

The Midnight Prince had found her.

“Arden.” He may have whispered her name from his position by the door, but she heard him as if he was standing right next to her.

Stubbornly, she took her time turning, eyes finding his easily, in the same way they did when she’d first arrived. She’d always been able to find him, always seemed to know exactly where to look. His presence here now indicated that he could do the same. That used to bring her comfort.

Mavek was still standing in the doorway, shoulder propped against the frame. His dark hair swept over his right eye, obscuring it from sight, but his visible eye was pinned to her. The sharp look on his face belied his casual stance. He wasn’t a human boy she’d ended a fling with; he was an Unseelie, a creature of legend.

A monster.

“You disappeared from the party,” he said, once he’d allowed her a moment to return his stare.

“I’d like to go home now.” She tried not to back down when he straightened, didn’t want to let on how nervous she was in here, alone with him. And not because she was afraid for her life—physically, he’d never hurt her. Even after everything that had happened between them, she couldn’t deny that.

But emotionally…

She’d thought those three weeks apart had been good for her, as she sorted through her feelings, convincing herself she no longer nurtured any positive ones toward him. The second she’d woken up to find him in her room, however, those thoughts had been dashed. She’d been forced to admit that she’d made no real progress when it came to shaking him out of her system.

He was a liar and a manipulator and he took without asking. Yet, when she’d had nothing and no one, his presence had been like a cool balm against her seared flesh.

“You are home, Arden.” He started his approach slowly, like stalking a skittish, wounded animal, and she bristled.

She wasn’t going to run, like some coward. Like she was the one in the wrong.

It wasn’t as if she could maneuver around him anyway; he was blocking the only exit, and she wasn’t stupid enough to act on such a thought.

“Let’s skip all of this tonight,” she suggested, her right foot involuntarily slipping back half an inch despite what she’d just promised herself. She’d left the iron dagger at home since bringing one would be seen as a sign of treason, but her hand itched to reach for the silver one in her left boot.

At least that was a reaction that made sense. Before, she would never have dreamed of drawing a weapon on him. She was pleased, knowing that she wouldn’t hesitate to do so now.

“I don’t think we can.” He was only a few feet away now, passing by one of the windows with broken glass and a torn sheet of white plastic. A gust of wind blew inward, sweeping up the smell of roses to swirl around them. It moved his hair off to the side, exposing his other eye and she sucked in a breath before she could help it.

She’d always been drawn to him, even from the start, knowing what he was and what had just happened to her mother. Outside the hospital, when she’d first spotted him watching her from across the courtyard, it’d been his eyes that had caught her. Simply calling them hazel was an injustice. Swirls of forest and light greens mixed with gold and chocolate brown. When he turned them to the light, they flickered various metallic shades, and what should have been eerie had the opposite effect on her.

When she’d looked at them, Arden had always felt like one of those dragons from legend that coveted gold above all else. Or a mermaid, who’d do anything for something sparkly.

She blinked, and suddenly he was standing directly in front of her. She hadn’t noticed, but at one point he’d plucked a single rose from the bunch, and now he brought it up, stroking the silky petals against the curve of her jaw up to her cheek. He brushed it just beneath her right eye, distracting her with the sensation of it against her skin, despite knowing that sharp thorns jutted from the stem beneath the bloom.

He took that final step forward and dropped the flower at the same time, the tips of his shoes coming up against hers, free hand wrapping around the nape of her neck to keep her in place.

Somehow, the kiss was unexpected. His lips, as soft as the rose petals, pressed against her own, and she opened them before she even knew what she was doing. His other arm banded around her waist, tugging her against his body as his tongue darted against hers. He tasted like mulberries and sugared candy roses.

That thought was like being doused in a bucket of ice water, and Arden gasped, shoving him away with just enough force to untangle them. Mavek actually had to steady his steps, the shock on his face turning to frustration in a flash. “I didn’t make you what you are now so you could use yourself against me.”

Her breathing was labored and her mind was still a bit clouded. She tried to feel the air around them, wondering vaguely if he’d used his sway on her, but it’s not like she would have missed it if he had. No, he’d simply played her the old fashioned way––using her old feelings to warp her current thinking.

“Get out,” she said, hating how rough her voice sounded. The kiss hadn’t lasted more than a handful of seconds and yet she felt utterly wrecked by it.

“This is my manor, Arden.”

“Then I’ll go.” She didn’t so much as twitch. Neither did he. “Move.”

He was watching her closely, searching for… something. “Is this about the boy?”

“What?”

“The human,” Mavek clarified. “The one you’re always with. The one who secretly watches you when he thinks you aren’t looking. The one who should have left when he had the chance.”

Arden frowned. “I don’t—”

Eskel. And here she thought she couldn’t feel any worse about herself.

“He doesn’t have anything to do with this,” she blurted, realizing her blunder when Mavek’s eyes narrowed at her tone. “Leave him alone. He’s been through enough already.”

“More of a reason that he should be the one to go, don’t you agree?” He recovered a foot of the space she’d put between them. “Or do you really think that keeping him close to you is the best idea? He won’t find you what you’re looking for, Arden. You can’t find something that doesn’t exist. No one can. Not even beautiful boys with pale blond hair and eyes like the Indian ocean.”

He’d paid more attention to Eskel than she’d thought, and he wanted her to know it. He took another step closer and her hand shot up to block him.

“Don’t.” She went unheeded, her palm pressed against the thin material of his shirt as he moved into it. Through it, she could make out the rise and dip of solid muscle.

“I know what happened between you the night of the Tithe, Arden Rose Archer,” he whispered, leaning down so his face was pressed to her cheek, his mouth grazing her ear. “I know you welcomed his lips.”

“Mavek—” She tried to pull back, but his hand grasped hers, keeping it pinned in place against his chest.

“I forgave you when you passed Titania’s test,” he continued, “and I’ll forgive you again, if I have to. But I’d rather you didn’t make me. Haven’t you fought against yourself long enough? Accept your feelings for me, here and now, and I’ll let you keep the mortal boy. Unharmed. Unthreatened.”

If Arden had been in love with Eskel, neither of them would have been able to participate in the Tithe ceremony. Faerie magic wouldn’t have worked on them, and they would have immediately been exposed. The fact that she wasn’t in love with him was probably the only reason Mavek hadn’t killed him the same way the Erlking had killed Everett.

He’d always been capable of that kind of cruelty; she’d just blinded herself to it.

“I’d welcome him into our bed, if it meant getting you. I’d only have to endure his presence for another sixty years.” Mavek paused. “Seventy, at most. Keep him, Arden, but have me too. For all I’ve given up for you, that isn’t much to ask.”

She couldn’t have replied even if her life depended on it, too shocked and… she didn’t even know what. Fortunately, she didn’t have to struggle long.

The sound of pounding footsteps announced the approaching fae a moment before Cato burst through the greenhouse door, sending plastic sheets snapping against the wind. His gaze was frantic, and he looked to Arden before his prince.

“You have to hurry,” he said, “I tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

When she pulled away from him, Mavek let her go, though she hardly noticed, too concerned about what could be going on. She’d never seen Cato act this way before.

“It’s Tabby,” he rushed on, not giving her a chance to ask. “She’s here.”

Arden shot forward, racing after him as he left the greenhouse. He led her back across the grounds, through parts of the festivity that were still in full swing, to one of the bonfires raging closer to the woods that surrounded the manor. They were still a good distance away when she spotted her.

Tabby was in the arms of an Unseelie, a beautiful one with shiny charcoal eyes and hair like spun gold. When he smiled, he showed a row of teeth, pointed and sharp as a shark’s, but her friend merely laughed at the display, even going so far as to reach up and touch one with the tip of her finger. The Unseelie twirled her around, rotating faster with every note issuing from the violin that another fae was playing off to the side. The night had settled and now the sky above was inky black and speckled with stars. To anyone else, it looked like Tabby was merely enjoying a cold winter night dancing around a fire.

Arden knew better.

“What the hell is going on?” she demanded from Cato, not waiting for him to reply as she strode past all the other dancing bodies and wrapped a hand around Tabby’s arm. With all her strength, she tugged her friend out of the circle, not stopping until they were far enough from the fire’s light that they could no longer make out their own feet.

The whole time, Arden kept them spinning in a mock version of the dance, twirling her friend around in small circles, first at the same speed as before, then slower and slower until they were mostly just drifting around.

“You have to come down slowly,” Arden explained the second she saw reality spark to life in Tabby’s eyes. The fear and the confusion there was palpable. It made her ache.

Being pulled out of a faerie dance was dangerous, but not as much as leaving her there would have been. Humans who were tricked into the dance did so until their feet split open and bled, then longer still, until their bodies eventually gave out. They’d do all of that and die with smiles painted across their faces, too high on endorphins to realize the danger.

To free yourself was tricky; you couldn’t just stop all together or the magic would eat away at you, causing a heart attack. It had to be done gradually, so the spell seeped slowly out of your pores and dissipated back into the air.

This was another thing Mavek had taught her, but Arden refused to be grateful.

After ten minutes or so she felt it was safe to stop. Tabby was shaking, and she had little strength in her legs, held up by both Arden and Cato. The faerie had remained close, and now he met Arden’s gaze over her friend’s shoulders.

“By the time I realized she was here, watching from the woods, it was too late,” he explained quietly. “The others had sensed her as well. She’d gotten too close.”

“What are you doing here?” She only just resisted the urge to shake Tabby, knowing she was still too weak to handle something like that at the moment. Still, she couldn’t help herself from lashing out, “It’s like you’re determined to be killed by them.”

“I’m sorry.” Tabby sounded like she’d swallowed an entire bucket of gravel. “Cole and I didn’t—”

“Cole’s here too?” Arden’s blood ran cold, her gaze snapping up to Cato’s.

He shook his head. “I haven’t seen him.”

“Watch her.” She passed Tabby off without a second thought, already sweeping their surroundings for any sign of her other friend. She didn’t stop to think that she was trusting an Unseelie with the care of her friend, there wasn’t time for that. Cato called out, but she moved away, fear cloying at her insides.

Cole wasn’t a Heartless anymore. He was no safer here than Tabby was.

The manor and its grounds were massive; it would take all night to find one person among the crowds, but that couldn’t deter her. Arden made her way through the groupings of bonfires, hoping that Cole had been found in the same spot as Tabby and hadn’t been led very far. Neither of them was that lucky, however, because he wasn’t anywhere near the bonfires.

She checked the courtyard next, climbing to the top of the back porch in order to glance over the tops of many faerie heads. The stone table Mavek had played on hours before was now covered in trays and platters, all overloaded with food. She thought she spotted the back of Cole’s head, had already taken a step closer, when he turned around to reveal just another faerie.

Arden swore and spun on her heels. Where else could she look? Her eyes settled on the back entrance and she nibbled on her bottom lip. Had he gone into the house? Typically it was off limits for outdoor celebrations like this one. There were still places outside she’d yet to look, but since she was already standing so close to the manor, she decided it was smart to check there first.

She yanked on the handle and entered, the flickering light of hundreds of candles that lined the hallway leading her deeper into the manor. The kitchen was off to the right, and she soon reached the rickety wooden door, forcing it open. And caught her breath.

Cole was seated at an old wooden table. At least three-dozen tiny china plates covered the rough and chipped surface, packed in so tightly that the worn wood beneath was practically hidden from view. His jacket was hung neatly on the back of his chair, but that was the only thing clean about him.

His hands and face were both covered in frosting, a mixture of whites and browns and pinks and blues. It smeared up to his elbows and over his cheeks, showcasing his bright red lips, almost like they’d been rubbed raw. Each plate held a different square of cake, no bigger than a ring box, but every time Cole swept one up, he clenched it tightly enough in his hands that bits of it squished between his fingers.

He shoveled each bite into his mouth, smacking his lips and already reaching for the next piece before he’d swallowed. It was impossible to tell how long he’d been here, because every time he emptied a plate, a new square of cake would magically appear at its center.

Titania sat directly across him at the small table, chin resting atop her clasped hands. She was smiling, just the barest upward curve to her lips, and even though she had to know they had an audience, she didn’t bother to tear her gaze away from Cole, watching him with an intense interest.

The same way a cat studied a bird hopping on a windowsill.

“Cole.” Arden stormed over to the table, trying to pull him away only to have him slap at her. “Cole, stop. Stop eating.”

She wasn’t concerned about the food being poisonous—she could tell it wasn’t Unseelie, and therefore, technically safe for humans to eat—but… she also knew the desserts weren’t really cake.

“Don’t listen to her, dear,” Titania said, and the hint of sway at the end of each syllable was impossible to miss. “I made this all for you, remember? You wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings, would you?”

Cole mumbled something around another mouthful, and though the words were indistinguishable, it was obvious he was agreeing with her.

“Release him,” Arden demanded, momentarily forgetting that she should be afraid of the faerie queen.

At first, it didn’t seem like Titania had even heard her, but then she tilted her head and lifted her eyes. A second later, she clucked her tongue. “Do you look at precious Mavek that way, Arden dear? With all that scorn and derision? No wonder his feelings have been hurt so. Poor thing. It used to be that nothing could best him, yet look at him now, held tightly in the clutches of a human girl.”

She made that same tsking sound, her smile broadening. “My apologizes. I almost forgot. Not so human anymore, are you?”

“I’m going to ask you again,” Arden bit out. “Release him.”

“Oh, were you asking? I must have missed that. I thought you were ordering me, and you don’t have the power to do that, not yet.”

Arden couldn’t stop herself from frowning, and Titania laughed. It was clear she didn’t actually think it funny, however, as she dropped her arms and arched a silver brow sharply.

“Do you know what’s more powerful than a queen, ex-Heartless?”

She shook her head, watching as Titania leaned back into her chair in a move somehow very royal. And threatening.

Someone was in the doorway now; Arden saw the form move to block the hallway light in her peripheral vision, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Titania’s. The fae seemed to know, taking pleasure in having the upper hand. Her grin returned full force, the move revealing the monster that lurked beneath all those rich layers of gossamer and silk.

“The only thing more powerful,” she said, “is a queen who holds the heart of a king.”

Arden swallowed the lump in her throat, but Titania wasn’t finished.

“Isn’t that right,” the Unseelie tipped her chin slightly in the direction of the doorway, “Mavek dear?”

Mavek glanced at Cole and the spread across the table, expression enigmatic. He entered leisurely, with one hand tucked into the front pocket of his white silk pants. He came to a stop at Titania’s side and waved his free hand over the table, palm down.

The surface rippled before resettling, all of the cakes suddenly transforming from perfect confections with edible pearls to rotting fruits. The intensity of the smell hit Arden hard enough that she gagged and had to cover her nose to adjust. Some of the fruits had bits of dirt and leaves stuck to them; others contained living things.

The small slice of pale blue cake Cole had been lifting to his mouth morphed into a squished peach, the rotted pulp mashed between his fingers, rancid juice trickling down his wrist. He frowned and tilted his hand in the dim overhead light before gasping and flinging the handful down onto the table. Maggots crawled away from the orange-brown clump, their fat white bodies slinking across the dull surface toward other sources of food.

Cole’s chair clattered loudly against the floor as he sprang back, shaking and frantically rubbing at the bits of pulp smeared across his face. A thin sheen still fogged his eyes, but as it lifted, a look of pure horror was left in its wake.

“What do you think you’re doing, Titania?” Mavek asked, slipping his other hand into his pocket. He tilted his head at Cole, inspecting him, but in the way one examined a lab experiment rather than out of caring. “I recall putting these mortals under my protection.”

“Did you?” Titania smirked at Arden across the table, keeping her head tipped down so that Mavek couldn’t see. “Must have slipped my mind.”

Cole didn’t seem to be listening, still staring at the table. Suddenly, he gagged and spun around, rushing to the sink. Arden followed, helping him bend over it, wincing when he started to wretch loudly.

“He’ll be fine,” Titania stated absently. When Mavek gave her a pointed look, she rolled her eyes and reiterated, “He’ll live, in any case.”

“What about the other one?” he asked, and she batted her long, silver eyelashes up at him.

“What other one, dear? If another of her friends was here tonight, I had no knowledge of it. I’ve been quite busy with Cole.” She lifted a hand and wiggled her fingers in a mock hello when the boy in question turned from the sink to glare over his shoulder at her.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Arden snapped, not bothering to hold in it any longer.

“Excuse me?” Titania’s face darkened, all of the teasing mirth from before gone in a flash.

“Arden,” Mavek warned, but she was done listening to him, too pissed off to care about putting him in a bad position with the faerie queen.

“From now on, stay away from my friends,” she growled.

“Is that a threat?” Titania stilled in her seat, but didn’t rise to the challenge.

“The Tithe is over,” Arden told her instead of answering. “It’s past time you leave.”

“Are you kicking me out of town?” That seemed to both amuse and infuriate her all at once. “You don’t have the authority—”

“She’s right,” Mavek interrupted, surprising them both. “You’ve overstayed your welcome here, Titania. It’s best you take the Hunt and go.”

Slowly, the queen turned her head toward him, eyes flashing wildly. “Don’t forget your place, Midnight. I outrank you.”

“You did,” he agreed, “when Herla was here. No longer. Now I am the oldest standing male regent in the North. Is that not why you made that comment to Arden a moment ago? Should we step back outside and redo my crowning tonight as well? The others have already been whispering about the Midnight King. I thought it unnecessary, but if you need a ceremony in order to recognize the truth…” He lifted a single shoulder, a corner of his mouth slowly curling upward.

The half-smile was malicious, teasing, and not something Arden had ever seen him bestow on the queen before. No matter what Titania had done, how far she’d egged him on, he’d always kept his careful, stony composure around her. Something had changed.

“Midnight King?” Cole’s words, spoken roughly a mere second before he was forced to spin back around and upchuck in the sink again, caught both of the Unseelie’s attention.

“Our little prince has gone up in the world,” Titania cooed to Arden, not seeing the way Mavek’s lips thinned at that, “and it’s all thanks to you. Removing the Erlking seems to have benefited him in more ways than one. It’s almost as if you two planned it.”

“That’s enough,” Mavek ordered.

Arden merely bristled. She was no expert on royalty or how the system worked, but she wasn’t stupid. That kind of accusation was dangerous. Was that truly what some of the fae believed, or was Titania just messing with her right now because she could? She looked to Mavek, but couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. Now wasn’t the time to ask either, not with their current audience. Her grip around Cole’s arm tightened. She needed to focus on getting them out of here. Whether or not the crowning was finished no longer mattered.

Her cell phone went off then, BTS’s “Seesaw” filling the kitchen as she struggled to quickly remove it from her coat pocket. She answered without bothering to check the caller ID, just grateful for the interruption.

“I can’t find Cole or Tabby,” Eskel’s voice spilled out the second she hit the accept button. “I’m at their place now, and neither of them is here.”

Arden resisted the urge to look at Mavek, stubbornly shifting on her feet to angle her face to the side where she could still keep both him and Titania in sight without looking directly at them. “They’re with me.”

“Oh thank—wait. Please tell me you aren’t where I think you are?”

“Unfortunately,” she answered, listening while he cursed sharply in her ear.

“I’m coming over.”

“Don’t!” The last thing she needed was Eskel getting into trouble here as well. She was exhausted just from rounding up their friends. “I’ve got them and we’re leaving.”

He was silent on the other end for a moment before sighing. “Alright. I’ll stick around here then. Wait for you guys to show up.”

“Okay.” Although she didn’t want him to wait out there in the cold, lurking in front of their friends’ house, Arden knew better than to try and persuade him otherwise. He had to have been seriously worried to venture out in the middle of the night in the first place.

She ended the call and turned to Cole. “Did you guys have plans?”

He was still gagging into the sink, and spit one last time before groaning loudly into the basin. “Shit.”

“Way to go.” She rolled her eyes and helped him straighten, twisting him to link his arm around her shoulders.

The two faerie regents were still closely watching.

“We’re leaving,” she told them, directing the statement at Mavek, who hesitated a split second before taking a single step to the side. When she tried to pass him, however, his hand whipped out, latching onto her wrist.

“We aren’t done with our conversation, Arden. Either I come to you later, or you come to me. Either way, we will be finishing it.”

“I don’t have anything more I need to say to you,” she lied. There was a lot that she wanted to say, most of it unpleasant, but tearing herself open like that wouldn’t help her. She didn’t need that kind of exposure.

She’d given him enough.

“Later, heart,” he repeated, ignoring her comment. “One way or the other.”

Arden shook him loose and continued to the door. Once there, she refused to look back, half carrying Cole down the narrow hall toward the back of the house. They needed to get Tabby and get the hell out of there, fast.

Before something else she couldn’t control happened.

Arden entered the dining hall at school the next day and paused when she saw Eskel was the only one seated at their usual table. Typically on Mondays, they all tried to eat lunch together, but after what had happened last night she couldn’t really blame the other two for needing to spend a day at home.

Cato had already gotten a car ready by the time Arden and Cole had gone back outside last night. He’d driven them all home, dropping off the cousins first. Arden had only spoken with Eskel for a moment before hopping back into the car so the Unseelie could bring her safely back to her place as well. It’d been so late by then, she’d almost ditched school today herself. But with only a couple weeks left before winter break, it seemed like a waste.

She got her food quickly, wanting to just get the whole ordeal over with. She hadn’t been alone with Eskel in a while, and she was nervous. They needed to talk about a lot of things, but like a coward, she’d been putting them all off. Part of her had actually hoped that with enough time, they wouldn’t need to address any of it.

She should have learned her lesson from all the worthless wishful thinking she’d done in the past.

The second she placed her tray down onto the metal table, Eskel’s head shot up. He smiled the sweet, almost boyish grin she’d grown used to over the past few months as he waited for her to sit down across from him.

“Cole told me what happened,” Eskel said, picking up a ketchup packet and tearing it open, “around the toilet.” He leaned forward and squeezed the contents out onto the corner of her tray, where her fries were.

“Gross.” She sipped at her iced coffee, trying not to think about the maggot-filled fruit she’d seen him eating. She could only imagine how Cole was feeling.

“Could have been worse.” Eskel shrugged and went back to picking at his own food, smearing the end of his burger into a pool of ketchup on his tray. He chewed slowly, thoughtfully, before furrowing his brow and shaking his head. “They were such idiots.”

“Tell me about it,” she agreed. Was this awkward, or was it just her? She tried to get a gauge on Eskel, but he was a closed book.

Which was why she didn’t sense the lead up until it was too late to turn back.

“They didn’t tell me what they were planning,” he said. “Cole was supposed to stop by and go over some research with me, and when he didn’t show and wasn’t answering his phone, I panicked. I can’t believe they followed you to the manor.”

“Please,” she snorted. “If they had told you, you would have gone with them.”

He stared at her. “That’s why they didn’t tell me. They knew what Mavek would do if I did.”

Keep him, Arden, but have me too.

Mavek’s words raced through Arden’s head, his declaration sending chills down her spine hours later. She wasn’t sure if he’d actually meant it, but she wasn’t about to test that theory one way or another.

She didn’t need anyone’s permission to hang out with Eskel, and she certainly wasn’t going to go crawling back to the Unseelie who’d put them all at risk in the first place. No matter how often he still haunted her dreams, or how her heart still raced at the thought of him. Things were over. Her mind knew it; it was just her body struggling to catch up. But it would. It had to.

“Eskel—”

“I haven’t brought it up because I know you’re going through a lot,” he said. “But we’re in this together, Arden. I’m not going anywhere.”

She dropped the fry she’d been holding back onto the tray.

“When you told me you’d think about it,” he continued when she didn’t speak, “about going out with me, things were different, I get that. Now… it’s a lot more complicated—”

“I’m turning into a fricken faerie, Eskel,” she stated, a little more loudly than was necessary. A couple students at nearby tables glanced their way and chuckled before going back to their conversations. Even in a town like this, where the Unseelie were legends whispered in the dark, no one truly believed.

“I know,” he said, quietly. “That doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”

“It should.” She tried to ignore the tiny spark at the center of her chest caused by his words. “Remember how desperately you tried to convince me to not get involved with Mavek? How is this going to be any different? You knew he couldn’t be trusted because of what he was. Well, that’s what I’m turning into.”

“You’ll be different,” he disagreed. “You are different.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because no matter what you become, you’re still you. You’ve still spent the past eighteen years of your life human. That doesn’t just get washed away because you change. People change all the time, that’s how it works.”

“You’re seriously reaching here,” she drawled, but had to admit, she was a little bit comforted by his statement. “People start liking mushrooms after hating them their whole childhood. They don’t develop the ability to see in the dark or get super strength.”

“You can see in the dark?” he asked, clearly impressed, and then waved his hand when her eyes narrowed. “Not the point. Okay.”

“Look,” she rested her elbows on the table, “I appreciate you guys sticking around all this time, trying to help me find a way to reverse this, I do. But I don’t want to be responsible for you or all the many shitty things that can happen because you all refuse to leave.”

Eskel frowned. “What are you saying, Arden?”

She inhaled slowly. “You should go back to California. Convince Cole to return to New York and take Tabby with him. I’ll be fine here on my own, knowing that you three are at least safe and far away from this mess.”

He eyed her for a moment, then looked away to stare out the window at the bright afternoon light. “The Unseelie are everywhere, you know that.”

“But the Midnight Prince is here,” she reminded him, then corrected, “Midnight King now, I think. It doesn’t matter. Mavek is more dangerous than the lot of them, more so, apparently, now that the Erlking is gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s been promoted, I guess. He doesn’t have to listen to Titania anymore; it seems like they’re on even ground.”

“Shouldn’t that be a good thing?” He shrugged when her brow furrowed. “Think about it. Mavek is awful, and I despise him, but he’s got one good quality, and that’s that he loves you. Despite what happened to Cole and Tabby last night, him being able to stand against Titania works in our favor.”

When she remained skeptical, he sighed.

“He’s trying to please you, Arden,” he said. “He wants back in your good graces. This actually leads into something I wanted to talk to you about. Mavek is desperate, and desperate people make mistakes. I think we can use that to our advantage, and the fact that we no longer have to worry about the Queen of Fae getting in our way is a plus.”

“She’s still a threat,” Arden corrected, though her interest was piqued. “But continue.”

“After weeks of looking, there are still only two things we know for certain work against Unseelie, right?”

She nodded. “Iron and their names.”

“Exactly.” He tapped the end of his plastic spork against the table, hard enough it almost snapped. The sound drew the attention of other students again, and he smiled at them apologetically until they all looked away once more. “None of us are strong enough to use iron against him, not even you with your increasing strength and fighting skills.”

“Which Mavek taught me,” she pointed out. Even if she did continue to grow stronger, she’d never get the upper hand with him. He knew her every move, could predict what she was going to do next before she’d even realized herself. Physically fighting him like that would only piss him off, and then he’d more than likely take his anger out on her friends.

“That leaves us just one option,” Eskel stated, holding her gaze pointedly.

She blinked at him, taking an embarrassingly long time to catch up. When she finally did, her frown deepened.

“I don’t know his true name.” He’d told her many things during their time together, but that tidbit hadn’t been one of them. She’d jokingly threatened to use it against him a time or two, but they’d both known there’d been no weight behind her words since that was one secret he’d kept close to heart.

“Is there anyone else who might?” Eskel prompted.

“Cato, maybe,” she said, already in the process of shaking her head, “but I can already tell you this is a bad idea. It won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“Using an Unseelie’s true name only forces them to speak the truth. I can’t order him to change me back or anything—” She stopped, realizing that he already knew all of this, and would have considered that fact before bothering to present her with this plan. “You don’t mean for me to try and forcefully get him to do that, do you?”

“No,” Eskel clarified. “If you get his true name, all you have to do is ask him two questions. Two, Arden, and we can fix all of this.”

“Is there a way to reverse what he did to me,” she caught on, “and if so, what is it.”

“Exactly!” he exclaimed. “This could work. We’re making no progress on our own because we’re combing through information created by other humans. If we want the truth, we have to go straight to the source.”

“And we can’t just ask Cato or Brix to tell us,” she said, “because if they were willing to put in that much help, they would have by now.”

“Honestly, they might not even know themselves,” Eskel suggested. “We’ve read about mortals being turned fae by eating various foods and potions, but we’ve yet to find a single account of them turning back to human.”

“Maybe there isn’t one.” It’s what everyone had been telling her.

“Maybe it’s just not common knowledge.” He rested his hand over hers on the table, thumb brushing over her knuckles lightly. Arden stared down at where they touched, didn’t pull away.

“Whether there is a way or there isn’t,” Eskel continued, “we can figure it all out if we just get Mavek’s true name.”

“How?” That wasn’t exactly something the fae went around offering up. A true name was so powerful it was rumored they were only uttered out loud once, when the fae was born. Mavek was a regent, his name had to hold more worth than most. He wouldn’t risk himself by sharing it with anyone. “Cato probably doesn’t even know, and he’s the only one I can think of who would.”

“It can’t hurt to find out,” he said. “Think about it, Arden. It’s been almost a month and this is the first real plan we’ve come up with. We have to give it a shot.”

“Asking to find out a faerie’s true name is like asking the sky to pour on a cloudless day, Eskel.” It was an idea, and one that could work, but she couldn’t really call it a good one. Really, it was just another shot in the dark, and she was getting tired of relying on those. “If I let on that his true name is what I’m after, and it somehow gets back to Mavek…”

It would be even worse if he discovered that it had been Eskel who’d thought it up.

“Cato got you all out of there last night, didn’t he?” he reminded her. “That’s not the first time he’s come to the rescue.”

“That doesn’t mean he can be trusted. At the end of the day, he’s Mavek’s faerie. His loyalty is to Mavek first and foremost. If he’s helped us in the past, it’s only because he believed he could get away with it without pissing off his regent. But this? If he does know Mavek’s true name and he tells us, there’s no escaping the consequences. He will be killed.”

The Unseelie didn’t hesitate in doling out punishment or dispatching their own. There’d be no lengthy trial, no cushy prison cell or “humane” ending if he was found guilty. However they decided to kill him, it would be painful and slow. Arden was sure of that.

“I’ve known him practically my whole life,” she said, thinking back to the first time they’d met when Cato had appeared like a knight in a story, chasing off the tiny redcaps who’d been picking on her outside her elementary school. “We were friends, until Mavek showed up. Once he did, Cato was too afraid to be that familiar and kept his distance. He’s only recently started hanging around me again.”

“And you don’t want to repay that by risking his life,” Eskel figured. “What if it’s the only way out of this?”

She could ask him, sure. In secret, in a place where she was positive there was no chance of anyone overhearing. But would it matter? Even though Cato was one of his most trusted, she highly doubted Mavek had trusted him with that.

“What if…” she nibbled on her bottom lip, momentarily unsure if she even wanted to voice what she was considering. “What if I asked him for it myself?”

Eskel blinked at her. “Huh?”

“Mavek. Like you said, he’s trying to get me to forgive him.” Had even offered something as insane as letting her keep Eskel around. “What if I convinced him this was the way to do that?”

“Weren’t you just saying my part of this plan was crazy?” Eskel turned her hand around so that he could place his palm in hers. “Let’s just start with Cato, okay? Give that a shot before we dive off the deep end. I don’t want…” He glanced away sheepishly. “I don’t like it when you’re with him, Arden. And this… It wouldn’t be easy to get him to trust you with something like that. Who even knows what you’d have to do in order to—” he cut himself off.

She was too busy staring at their hands to really listen, mind focused on the feel of him. On how her heart seemed to pitter patter in her chest. This was why she’d been willing to give up on Mavek, she remembered suddenly. Eskel gave her something the Unseelie never had.

Honesty. Even when it embarrassed him to do so.

Glancing up, she saw that his cheeks were stained pink and he couldn’t meet her gaze. It shouldn’t have been endearing, his willingness to put himself out there, and yet it was. She didn’t deserve it.

“I still have feelings for him,” she whispered, watching him closely, “even after everything he’s done. Doesn’t that disgust you?”

He tore his eyes away from the window, hand tightening around hers. “No. Of course not.”

She wanted to believe him, but…

He must have read her expression because he shifted forward in his seat, bringing himself closer to her. “I crossed the country in search of a brother I believed was a ghost, Arden. I know how stubborn love can be, how hard it is to loosen its hold, despite how much you wish it gone.”

“That kind of love isn’t the same,” she began, but he merely shook his head.

“How is it different?”

“You two were family.”

He gave her a pointed look. “For the past year, Mavek’s been your family. We both know that. He was more than just someone you were attracted to, Arden. When you had no one else, he was there for you. That kind of connection, even after discovering it was built on a lie, isn’t easy to break. It shouldn’t be. So there’s nothing wrong with you struggling to let go. I don’t blame you for it.”

“Eskel.”

“I don’t like it,” he added. “I want you to be with me. Nothing’s changed for me since that night I told you as much. I meant what I said then. I just want you to think about it. Think about whether or not I could be who you want.”

“What if I turn into one of them permanently?” She hated how lost she sounded, how fragile, but if he could show weakness in front of her, she could return the favor.

He paused as if thinking about it, but when he spoke, it was clear that he’d already thought about that possibility and made a decision on it long ago.

“It might be fun,” he said, “having a faerie for a girlfriend.”

Arden sipped her caramel macchiato as she read through her English History notes, highlighting the parts she’d spaced out on during this morning’s lecture. She’d jotted them all down on autopilot, and now it was like reading the material for the first time.

Willow’s Brew, the local coffee shop, was partially filled by other students from both the college and the high school. A steady din filled the space––hushed voices, soft laughter, the clinking of mugs and silverware––lulling Arden into a comfortable state. That, and the fact that the past few days since the crowning had been relatively uneventful, lowered her guard. So she didn’t even notice the Unseelie until the girl slid into the other seat at Arden’s bistro table. They’d met once before, at one of Mavek’s revelries. The faerie had long, silky black hair with bright red tips. Her wide, almost doe-like eyes masked the deadly creature within.

“Twila,” Arden greeted her, “right?”

“You remember.”

“We have similar styles.” She motioned to her own hair, a dark brown laced through with shots of green. When the faerie’s eyes hardened, Arden sighed. “Not a friendly visit I see.”

“What about Victor,” Twila asked, as if Arden hadn’t spoken at all. “Do you remember him as well?”

It was kind of hard to forget someone you killed, especially when that someone burst into leaves. She felt a lingering twinge of guilt, but shoved it aside. She’d had no choice; it’d been either him or Tabby.

“He tried to stop me,” she said, subtly gripping the pen in her hand. She definitely couldn’t draw a blade in a crowded place like this, but if she had to, she wasn’t above stabbing the other girl with a V5 black ink Pilot. “I’m sorry that it happened the way it did.”

“You may have been let off the hook for what happened to the Erlking,” Twila growled, “but the Midnight King can’t protect you forever. You will pay for what you did to Victor.”

Arden knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help herself, easing over the table slightly to say in mock conspiracy, “Is this the part where you add, ‘in blood’?”

Twila lashed out, hand flashing forward, her sharp nails extended. She hissed when Arden grabbed her wrist with the same speed, letting out a low cry when she twisted it.

“I’m not as weak as I look,” Arden said darkly, her fingers digging into the Unseelie’s flesh.

“My, my, what do we have here?” Cato sauntered up to their table suddenly, glancing between the two of them. He tsked and shook his head, sending the silver earring in his right ear swishing with the movement. “Looks like you’ve bitten off more than you can chew, Twila. Perhaps now is a good time to let bygones be bygones, no?”

Arden let go when Twila tugged her arm free and shot to her feet, glaring the whole time. As the Unseelie turned to leave, she called out, halting her. “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry about Victor,” she told her, hoping her sincerity came across. Once she was sure that she’d captured the Unseelie’s attention, she deepened her tone. “I don’t want to have to do something like that ever again.”

Twila stiffened, then pushed her way past Cato, disappearing from the shop as quickly as she’d come.

“Threatening people already,” he dropped down into the newly vacated seat. “What they say about power going to your head really must be true.”

“Shut up.” Arden didn’t have the energy for this. She still had five pages of notes to go through, and exams were next week. “I’ve got a lot of studying here, so say what you came to say and get lost.”

“Ouch.” He lifted his lip at her in a partial sneer. “What if I didn’t come to say anything? I was merely passing by and I happened to glance in and catch the show. Thought maybe you could use my help.”

“Nope.”

“I got that fairly quickly,” he agreed with a brief chuckle, before sobering. He glanced at the hand she’d used to stop Twila. “How long has your strength been at that level?”

“Don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t really monitor it.” She didn’t want to believe she was actually changing, in all honesty. “Why?”

“I always wondered why your change was taking so long,” he said, but he spoke so softly, it was almost like he was talking to himself. “It’s not going as slow as I’d assumed though.”

“What do you mean?” In the stories she’d read, the way a human turned into a faerie was almost always slightly different. Sometimes it happened overnight; other times it took days, if not weeks. Arden had just assumed she’d fallen into that latter category. Not everything on the Internet could be taken at face value. Even the books they’d consulted weren’t completely reliable. The topic was folklore and mythology, after all.

“Hmm?” Cato met her gaze, recalling himself and shaking his head. “Nothing.”

She thought about pushing him, but it didn’t seem important enough at the moment. Instead, she twirled the pen in her hand and pretended not to care about what he’d been talking about.

“Actually, there’s something else I’d like to ask you, since you’re here anyway,” she said, taking a quick peek around to make sure no other fae lingered in the coffee shop. “It’s about Mavek.”

His eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion. “This seems dangerous.”

She thought so too, but she couldn’t let that deter her. Despite promising Eskel she’d give it a try, she still didn’t believe it was going to get them anywhere. It would be a good plan… if it had a chance of actually working. Unfortunately, true names weren’t something one scrawled on a stone and tossed into a river. At least then there’d be a way to discover it.

“Only if you lie,” she said, unable to hold back a smirk when he was clearly affronted by her words.

“Don’t think to threaten me now, Arden. You won’t like the results,” he told her, but she merely waved a hand in the air.

“Relax, Cato. I might not like it, but the fact of the matter is you’re one of the few faeries I actually trust. To an extent, anyway.” That was more than she could say about pretty much the rest of his species. “I wish you’d stop following me around—”

“That’s for your own safety.”

She paused, thinking about her conversation with Mavek. “So I’ve been told.”

“Things are…” His brow furrowed as he struggled with his next words. In the end, he merely said, “The world has grown a lot more complicated. Precautions must be taken.”

He didn’t have to mention the Erlking for her to understand that was what he was referring to.

“I thought the tithe was accepted?” Her hand twitched toward her phone resting on the table next to her notebook, the need to check on Tabby momentarily overtaking her better judgment.

Of course, Cato caught her gaze. “Tabitha is safe. They aren’t coming for her.”

“Then how do you know there’s a problem?”

“I didn’t say there was.”

“Seriously?” She heaved a sigh of annoyance and ran a hand through her hair. “This is why I hate talking to the fae. What’s there to be cautious of if nothing is going on?”

In a poorly planned stall tactic, Cato reached for her paper cup, gulping down a sip of her coffee. He made a face of disgust, dropping it back to the table with a heavy snap, splashing some over the sides of the cup. “It’s so bitter.”

She lifted a brow. “Are you kidding? There are five sugars and a ton of caramel syrup in that thing.” She wouldn’t be surprised if she developed a cavity from it.

“How do you drink this stuff?” He stared at the discarded cup like it contained poison.

“Cato.” While his reaction was real, she knew what he was doing. “I won’t be distracted that easily. Sorry not sorry.”

He slumped a bit in his chair, resting his elbows on the table. “As far as we know, the tithe was accepted,” he finally clarified. “No Unseelie have been dragged back to the Underground, and we haven’t received any word from the courts, so we should be fine.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I’m not sure there is one,” he confessed, inching to the edge of his chair so he could lean closer to her, “but have you noticed how many Unseelie there are around here lately?”

“Didn’t they come for the crowning?”

He made a face at her. “I know that you noticed their presence here long before Brix was selected, Arden.”

That she had.

“I assumed they were gathering around because of the Tithe, that’s all. It’s the first time one of your kind was sacrificed, right? Makes sense that would draw a crowd.” She tilted her head. “Isn’t that also why Mavek has you tailing me so closely? Just in case one of these sightseers gets overly eager and approaches me? Or worse, one of the Erlking’s pissed-off followers.” They claimed he wasn’t well liked, but everybody had somebody.

“I thought the same, but the other day I swear I saw…” his voice trailed off, lips pursed as he gazed at an empty space over her left shoulder. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter. I had to have been mistaken. My point is that there are a lot of Unseelie in town. You need to be careful. So whatever it was that you were going to ask me about Mavek—”

“Do you know his true name?” she blurted, not wanting to give herself the chance to rethink it again. He’d been the one to bring the subject back around, so really, it was his own fault.

For a long moment, all Cato did was blink rapidly at her from across the table. She was about to ask him if he was alright, if maybe he’d short-circuited or something, when he finally snapped out of it enough to say, “Hell no.”

“Didn’t think so.” She deflated, trying to hide her disappointment. Even though she’d known it was a long shot, she’d still hoped there was a chance it would work.

“That’s not what I mean,” he said, and then quickly clarified, “Of course I don’t know his true name. No one knows that. You shouldn’t know that––that’s what I mean.”

“Stop saying ‘I mean’,” she stopped him. “You sound like a fifteen-year-old giving their first class presentation.”

“Arden,” the gravity in his tone was impossible to miss, as was the thinly veiled panic in his eyes, “listen to me. You better than most know how dangerous a true name can be, and the lengths someone will go in order to keep it concealed. If word gets out that you were asking about this…”

She frowned. “Are you worried Mavek will punish you? You don’t even know it.”

“The fact that you thought it was safe to ask me, that you consider us close enough to ask me, will anger him to the point that it won’t matter. What if he believes I’ll try and find out for you? I’ve already lost some of his trust.”

“Why?” It couldn’t have been from helping her out during the Tithe. He hadn’t done anything for her that Mavek hadn’t personally approved of—other than letting her go to the lake. “Because of Victor?”

“No,” he said, “Victor was self-defense; I’ve told everyone as much. That’s why you haven’t faced any consequences, and why Twila is so upset about it.”

And here Arden had thought she’d gotten away with it for the same reason she’d gotten away with the Erlking. The fae were allowed to seek retribution against humans who harmed them, but they could only go after one another if given express permission by their regents. At least, when one higher in station than them was the wrongdoer. Somehow, Arden had jumped the social hierarchy because of her relationship with the Midnight King.

“He’s sour toward me for other reasons,” Cato continued.

“What reasons?”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you listen to me. Let. This. Go. Now. We’ll pretend it never even happened.”

She wanted to, because she did understand where he was coming from, but…“This is the only solution we’ve come up with so far. It might be my only chance.”

“To what?” he asked. “Turn back? Arden, there is no way back. There’s only forward. Stop forcing yourself to stay in the same place. You aren’t stuck.”

“Aren’t I though?” she snapped. “I could have broken Twila’s wrist just now, did you know that? I did. Last week, Brix visited me and I lost my temper and blew stuff around the room like some damn leaf blower. This cannot be my future.”

He caught her gaze, held it. “Why not?”

“It just can’t!”

“That doesn’t seem like a good enough reason. I think you know that too. Maybe that’s why you’re fighting so hard instead of adapting.”

She pulled back slightly, frown returning tenfold.

“You’re so good at that, Arden,” he said. “When we first met, you thought all fae were monsters, remember? But I helped you and we became instant friends because you were able to adjust your perception of the world. You thought Eskel had lied to you, yet were willing to hear him out, and when you discovered the truth, you forgave him for withholding it. The Midnight King came to you and claimed that he could rid you of your family curse if only you became a Heartless. You turned yourself into someone else overnight.”

“This isn’t—”

“This is no different,” he disagreed, and then got to his feet. “Forget about finding his true name and accept what you’re becoming. Sometimes, the more difficult path is actually the safest.”

Arden wasn’t done talking about this, not by a long shot, but Cato stepped back, obviously unwilling to continue the conversation. Before she could coax him to stay, he tipped his head toward the front door, just before the little bell above it jingled.

“Your friends are here,” he said, and then turned, nodding in silent greeting at Cole and Tabby as he passed them. Eskel brought up the rear and held the door open for Cato.

The Unseelie said something, but Arden couldn’t make out what, and when Eskel turned around she saw the confused look on his face.

Cole dragged a chair over from another table, allowing Tabby to take the one across Arden. Eskel had to find one as well, tucking himself between Cole and Arden. The four scrunched around the tiny bistro set so that his side pressed against hers, but if he noticed, he didn’t show it.

“Drinks?” Tabby asked, glancing around at them.

“I can help,” Eskel offered, but she declined, taking their orders and going off to the counter to retrieve them for everyone.

“What was the Puck doing here?” Cole asked, reaching over to flick through the pages of her notebook curiously.

“Cato?” Arden hadn’t heard Cole refer to him by type before. “The usual. Mavek sent him to spy on me. That’s all.”

“He looked upset,” Eskel said, catching her eye. The silent question was easy enough for her to read.

“He doesn’t know it,” she told him, trying not to be affected by the way his shoulders slumped in disappointment. “It’s fine. We’ll find another way.”

“Another way to do what?” Cole had moved on to her textbook now, and paused to stroke his fingers over the glossy photo of a cluster of violets.

“I didn’t catch the whole conversation, and even I know what they’re talking about.” Tabby appeared with a paper tray, depositing coffee cups all around before reseating herself. She pulled a small paper bag from her pocket and took out a sugar cookie, handing it over to Cole.

He stared at the icing on it, a cheery, painted Santa Claus.

“What?” She waved the cookie in his face pointedly. “Too childish for you? I’m sorry they didn’t decorate them with something else, but it’ll taste the same.”

“You’ve been eating everything you can get your hands on, and these are your favorite,” Eskel said. “What’s up with you today?”

“Leave him alone,” Arden cut in, watching as Cole finally took the cookie only to turn it in his hand in inspection. “After what Titania made him do, can you blame him?” Thinking about it made her almost gag, and she hadn’t been the one gorging.

Cole turned to look at her, gaze sharp, and then smiled. “Exactly. That’s it.”

Tabby shuddered and placed the cookie she’d just taken a bite out of onto her napkin. She chased the mouthful down with a long swig of her coffee. “Gross. Let’s never talk about that again. Ever.”

“Yeah,” Eskel agreed, making a face of his own.

“You two are the idiots who got yourselves into that mess,” Arden reminded them, shrugging when Tabby gasped in mock affront.

“Harsh,” she said. “We were just trying to look out for you,” she bumped Cole with her elbow, “weren’t we?”

“Yes.” He picked up his own cup, sipped lightly at it, and immediately gagged. “What is that? It’s so bitter.”

“Weird,” Arden was sure that Tabby would have ordered him the same drink he’d been getting all season, “that’s the same thing Cato said.”

“The Puck was right. How do you drink this stuff?” He smacked his lips together.

Tabby frowned and took a sip of his coffee. “It tastes the same as it always does. It’s not burned or anything.”

Eskel held his hand out and she passed it over to him. “It really does. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“So much for leaving him alone,” Arden joked. Who among them hadn’t acted a little strangely after a faerie encounter? It’d only been a few days; eating rotten fruit probably messed with taste buds.

Truthfully, she was a bit glad for the reprieve from the serious. After her conversation with Cato, she needed something light. Being with her friends, hanging out after school at a coffee shop… What was more normal than that? She might be changing, but even if she did, she could still keep this, couldn’t she?

Keep him, Arden, but have me too.

“Asshole,” she muttered when the words percolated through her mind again.

“What?” Eskel turned to her, cutting off his conversation with Cole.

“Nothing,” she lied. No way she was going to tell him about that particular talk with Mavek. She wasn’t going to tell anyone, mostly because she wanted to pretend like it’d never happened. Besides, it wasn’t like she was actually considering it. She wasn’t, and would never. It was just so infuriating that he’d suggested it at all. As if that would appease her and all would be forgiven.

As if she needed his permission to be with someone else.

“What is all this for?” Cole asked as he thumbed through her textbook after moving his coffee cup all the way across the table so it was pressed against the wall.

“Exams.” Arden groaned. “I haven’t been able to concentrate lately. I’m not going to do very well.”

“Your grades can take the hit,” Tabby waved off her concerns then shrugged when Arden glared. “What? They can.”

“What are you guys doing here, anyway?” She hadn’t told them where she was studying.

“We were at the library,” Eskel told her. “Couldn’t find anything today either.”

“So we decided to come here to reenergize.” She shook her nearly empty cup. “We ran into Cole on the way.” The accusatory look she shot her cousin went unnoticed by him. He must have still felt too sick to go to the library.

“You guys are doing me a favor,” Arden reminded them. “It’s fine if he didn’t feel up to it today.”

“You’re being way too nice.”

She snorted. “It’s not like you guys are indebted to me or anything. This is my problem.”

Tabby blinked at her, then turned to Eskel. “She’s joking, right?”

“Has to be,” he agreed, shaking his head at Arden.

“Good.” Tabby propped her chin on her palm. “Because I don’t want to rehash that whole conversation about responsibility and the true meaning of friendship being never to abandon one in need, yada, yada.” She perked up and snapped the fingers of her free hand. “I know, let’s go see a movie!”

The last time Arden had been to the movies was with Eskel. Cato had shown up just before the film had begun, but the start of it had been only the two of them. They’d been just friends at the time, but looking back on it now, she could understand Cato’s concern upon seeing them. Arden had spent so much time focused on concealing her feelings for Mavek, she’d inadvertently tricked herself into believing she didn’t have any for Eskel, even when it’d been apparent to others.

She glanced at him now, trying not to be too obvious. He was busy discussing what was playing with Tabby. It gave her the chance to study his profile. He was the opposite of Mavek in almost every way, light to the Unseelie’s dark. It wasn’t just his physical appearance either; he was also more optimistic. Only a true optimist would travel across the country believing he’d get to meet his dead brother again.

Brix wanted her to convince Eskel to leave––to go back to California––and part of her wanted that too because it was the only way to ensure that he’d be safe. But the rest of her was happy with him here, didn’t want to think about how she’d feel if he really did go.

He’d told her he wouldn’t mind having a faerie for a girlfriend but had he meant it? And for how long? How long would he be able to last before finally realizing their relationship wasn’t worth his while? Being Unseelie meant being something other than human. Arden’s entire world was changing. How could he know without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted to live in it when she didn’t even know herself?

“What do you think?” Eskel asked, turning to her. When he realized she’d spaced out again, he frowned.

She’d been doing that a lot with them, she was aware. Still, it couldn’t be helped. She had so much on her mind, and the only times she felt comfortable enough to allow her thoughts to wander was when she was with them.

“Let’s go,” she said, easily picking up on what he meant, despite having not paid any attention to the movie they’d decided on. It didn’t really matter anyway. “A day of normal could be good.”

“Hell yeah!” Tabby stood and leaned over, holding out her hand for a high five.

Arden rolled her eyes but reciprocated while Eskel started collecting her things. He had everything packed away in her backpack, the strap tossed over his shoulder, and was ready to go before she’d even gotten to her feet.

He caught her eye and smiled.

A day of normal was exactly what she needed.

“Come out,” Arden paused on the side of the street, hands tightening around the backpack straps secured over her shoulders.

The sun was high in the sky, beating down on her and her wind-burned cheeks. Her first class was at noon, and she’d left her house a bit early in order to navigate the icy roads on foot. She hadn’t gone a full block before she realized someone was following her. At first, she’d figured it was just Cato or one of the other spies Mavek had sent, but a nagging feeling in the back of her mind told her otherwise.

She reached the edge of campus and saw other students heading toward the main buildings, some huddled together in small groups, others hunched over, tramping alone through the chilly mid-morning breeze.

Before, her stalker had been moving silently, but since she’d caught him out, he took no pains to hide the sound of his boots crunching the thin layer of frost on the ground. A second later, Brix appeared at her side, giving up the ruse of hiding, still in the same body he’d used at the crowning ceremony.

She frowned at him. “Oh, it’s you.”

“It’s me,” he agreed solemnly, surveying the other students. His hands were tucked into the deep pockets of his tan coat, its rear flaps slapping against the backs of his thighs with each gust of wind.

“Is that cashmere?” she asked when it became apparent he wasn’t going to speak first.

After a long pause, he finally dragged his eyes back to her. “I suppose.”

Arden cocked her head to the side, waiting, but was met with more silence. “Okay… Well, this has been fun.” She lifted her foot to go, dropping it back down when his right hand shot out, fingers pinching the material of her own jacket at her elbow.

He seemed to be just as caught off guard by the move as she was, brow furrowing and staring down at where he continued to hold onto her. “Perhaps I am lonelier than I anticipated.” The words were murmured under his breath, a thought unintentionally spoken aloud. He didn’t elaborate, but he also didn’t let go.

“Brix?” The Lutin had always been strange, but this was another level, even for him.

He blinked up at her, and she watched as his eyes refocused on hers. “Can I tell you a secret, Arden Archer?”

She quirked a brow. “Did you follow me all the way here just to do that?”

He thought it over, seemed to conclude in the affirmative, and made a humming sound in the back of his throat.

She still had plenty of time to get to class, but that didn’t mean she wanted to stand out in the cold until then. She glanced around, taking stock of all the nearby buildings, and settled on the tiny school café.

“Let’s go there.” She pointed to it and then took a step in that direction, tugging on her arm lightly when he still didn’t release her. “Come on. Tell me inside, where it’s warm.”

“Ah,” he said, as if the weather hadn’t occurred to him, “you’re still human. I forget.”

“Right.” She didn’t like the sound of that, but wasn’t going to be a stickler about it. Instead, she quietly led the way, not bothering to tell him to let go a second time. He kept his hold on her jacket the whole way.

Their relationship was sticky, and Arden didn’t exactly know where they stood with one another. At times, the Erlking had used Brix against her, and even though she understood the Lutin hadn’t had a choice in the matter, she was still irked that he’d tricked her into drinking spiked wine and spied on her.

Now that he’d taken the Erlking’s place, however, she wasn’t above wondering if she could use that to her advantage. The two of them were sort of friends, after all, and friends helped one another out. He wouldn’t know Mavek’s true name—no way that would have been entrusted to one of Herla’s fae—and he’d already tried to convince her to give up her search for a way to remain human so…

Arden wasn’t quite sure how his new station could help her, but certainly a time would come when she’d need the help of a faerie regent. She hoped that if that time came, she could call on him. Maybe it was spite, or pure stubbornness, but she refused to go to Mavek, no matter how terrible her supposed future was. Knowing Brix would be there was comforting.

The coffee shop sat above the dining hall, a small space with a breakfast bar lining the windows and only three square tables. The smell of roasted coffee beans and sugary syrups filled the air. A single barista stood across the counter, serving another customer. Most students weren’t sticking around––just grabbing their coffee and heading off to class––but all three of the tables were occupied, leaving only the barstools by the window.

“Would you like something?” Arden asked, stepping into line. Since she was here, she might as well grab breakfast. She ordered a latte with a shot of white chocolate and coconut, and pointed to a large, mint, dark-chocolate-chip muffin, while Brix puzzled over his choices. Wordlessly, he lifted a finger to the menu stuck to the wall in the back, just over the barista’s shoulder.

“We’ll take one strawberry smoothie with a shot of marshmallow flavoring as well, please.” Arden smiled at the barista, also a student on campus. She didn’t recognize her from any of her classes.

The girl kept sneaking glances at Brix, even when the two of them stepped off to the side to wait in the serving section. The faerie had yet to drop the material pinched between his fingers, and the girl’s eyes kept trailing to where he held Arden, lips pursed in a questioning frown.

“Couldn’t you have turned into someone less attractive?” Arden asked, trying to keep her voice down so the barista couldn’t overhear.

“Why?” He raised an eyebrow, bemused.

“You’re drawing too much attention,” she told him, and he swiveled his head around to take in all the occupants of the room. The barista wasn’t the only human staring at him when they thought he wasn’t looking.

“Am I?”

Arden sighed. “Damn fae.”

“You’re a fae too,” he said, and by his tone Arden understood it wasn’t meant to upset her.

“What’s with you today?” Their order arrived just as she got the question out, and she reached for both of their cups, blinking when the barista quickly pulled the smoothie back.

“Here you go.” She batted her eyelashes at Brix, who didn’t seem to notice. He took the cup and tipped his head, already turning toward the empty window seats that overlooked the center of campus.

“Shall we sit?”

“Let’s.” Arden snatched the paper bag holding her muffin off the counter and tried not to glare at the barista.

“Since I accepted the role of Autumn Prince,” Brix began a moment later, once they were both seated at the corner, “this form is the easiest for me to hold. It is recognizable, and recognition is key when in a position of power.”

“That’s true,” she agreed, breaking off a chunk of her muffin and offering it to him.

He frowned, but ended up taking it, slowly putting it in his mouth, as if he feared it would explode. “It’s good.”

“Also true.” She took a bite herself and then sipped at her steaming coffee. The muffins were a favorite of hers––not too sweet. “So, what’s this secret?”

He stuck the straw of his smoothie in his mouth, eyes lazily tracking a male student with a bright white backpack as he walked by the windows. Once the student was out of sight, he finally placed his plastic cup back on the table. “Someone who was once important in my past has returned, and I’m not sure how to deal with it.”

Arden gaped at him. “I’m sorry… Are you asking me for… relationship advice right now?”

“Is it still advice if the relationship has ended?” Brix tilted his head. “We haven’t been in contact for many years. The last time was soon after Everett’s death.”

“What? Why?” It seemed odd that his ex would show up after the murder of his current boyfriend.

“He helped lessen my punishment,” he explained. “There was something that the Erlking wanted that only Krit could provide. It was a gamble on the Erlking’s part, a hope that the King of Wonder still held some form of affection for me. It worked in his favor, and mine, I suppose.”

Arden hadn’t heard the name Krit before, but she recalled the faerie at the crowning ceremony, the one who’d placed the circlet of bronze atop Brix’s head. He’d called himself the King of Wonder. He also hadn’t seemed very pleased to be there.

“Why’s he sticking around?” she asked. “Shouldn’t he be going on his way now that the ceremony is over?”

“Why are any of them sticking around?” he countered. “Something’s happening, but I’m unable to understand what that is. Your situation is very fascinating, but hardly worth all this trouble. Why are so many Unseelie in town? No one seems to have a definite answer.”

“Anyway,” she said, realizing that her time was almost up before she had to rush off to class, “if you don’t want to see Krit, don’t. Just avoid him. If you do…”

“That is unclear. That’s why I came to you.”

“I don’t follow,” she admitted when he grew silent once more.

“You’ve been managing your feelings for the Midnight King. How? Resisting… I’m not very good at that, but logically I know getting involved with Krit again isn’t wise. For either of us.”

“That’s not…” This time, Arden was the one who wasn’t sure what to say. “Does it even matter if everyone can tell I still have feelings anyway?” She thought, realizing too late that she’d also spoken the words aloud. She glanced up and caught Brix staring, a strange look on his face. “What?”

“Last time, I came to you with fear for Thomas,” he began, “This time it’s for you. Don’t make my mistake, Arden Archer.”

“What mistake?”

“I thought to chase away my faerie feelings with Everett’s love; that ended well for no one.”

Was he implying that she was using Eskel? She wasn’t. Sure, there were still too many mixed emotions when it came to Mavek. Arden wanted to be sure before she pulled Eskel deeper into her life.

“I’m being careful,” she sighed, because really, there wasn’t anything else she could say. She didn’t need to explain her reasoning to him, and talking about her and Eskel’s relationship… It still felt private and taboo.

“I thought I was careful too.”

“Look,” if she didn’t leave now she’d be late for class, and thankfully that was a good enough reason to put an end to this uncomfortable conversation, “if you don’t want to get involved with Krit again, then just ignore him. Eventually, he’ll take the hint and leave.”

Brix canted his head. “You can’t really believe that.”

She frowned.

“Will the Midnight King ‘go away’ if you ignore him, Arden Archer?”

“Our situations are different,” she said, although she wasn’t confident in the truth of her words. It hadn’t seemed like the looks Krit had given Brix at the crowning were of the romantic variety, but then again, she hadn’t been looking for it.

“We are not as different as you’d suppose,” he said cryptically, then gestured toward the stairs. “You should get going. Thank you for your time.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll remain here for a while longer. Don’t worry,” he added when her eyes narrowed, “I do not intend to cause any trouble.”

“That’s the thing I’ve come to realize about you fae,” she said, even as she stood and collected her things, “you so rarely intend to, but it always happens.”

Brix flashed her a smile for the first time since meeting outside.

Brix’s wolfish grin haunted her the whole way to class. But it was erased and replaced by Eskel’s boyish smile greeting her across the classroom. He was waiting for her in the far back in their usual seats.

Everyone kept telling her that they understood how she felt, but how was that even possible when she didn’t understand it? Too many competing variables warred between her head and her heart, each one pulling her in the opposite direction. How much of that had to do with turning into an Unseelie?

“You’re cutting it kind of close,” Eskel said as she approached, watching curiously as she dropped down into the empty desk next to him and robotically began pulling out textbooks and a notebook. “This isn’t Calculus.”

She glanced down at the math book she’d removed and shoved it back in. There was too much swirling around in her head to try and mask how distracted she was. If she could have afforded to, she would have skipped this class altogether after her talk with Brix. The fae had an uncanny ability to step into her life at the worst possible moment and stir things up—half the time without meaning to.

“In your research,” she asked, “did you read anything about someone called the King of Wonder?”

It was a title she’d never heard of, and when she’d originally signed up to be Mavek’s Heartless, she’d done a ton of Internet searching to try and figure out who all the main players were. There were loads of information on both Titania and the Erlking, even stuff about seasonal fae royalty like the Autumn Prince, but King of Wonder was new.

“I might have read something,” Eskel pursed his lips, thinking. “He’s in charge of pixies and smaller, mischievous fae, like house gnomes and brownies. Why?”

“I met him at the crowning—” then their professor walked in and they both swiveled around to face the front of the class— “and Brix was involved with him in the past, I guess.”

“You shouldn’t get involved,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper so they wouldn’t get caught. “If he’s anything like the rest of them, nothing good will come of getting to know the King of Wonder. Unless, do you think he might know something about turning you—”

“No.” She picked up her pen and started diligently copying the notes being scribbled up on the board, hoping he’d take the hint and leave it at that.

Fortunately, the lecture began then and he didn’t really have a choice but to. For the next hour and fifteen minutes, they both threw themselves into focusing on the lecture, letting the rest of their crazy lives fade into the background.

Of course, it couldn’t last. As soon as the clock struck eleven-thirty, Eskel was standing next to Arden’s desk, patiently waiting for her to collect her things. When she quirked a brow up at him, he smiled.

“Let’s take off,” he suggested, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his left shoulder.

“And go…?” They usually spent lunch together after class, but he was clearly asking to leave campus.

“Stop trying to avoid being alone with me,” he suggested. “Isn’t there enough you’re stressed about? Why add me to the list?”

“Eskel—”

He reached forward and took her hand, lacing their fingers together loosely enough that she could easily pull away if she wanted to. “Let’s go on a date, Arden. A casual, no-strings-attached date. I promise, at the end of it, I won’t do something selfish like ask you to choose.”

How many times did he have to tell her he understood her feelings for Mavek before the guilt she always felt subsided? Having him bring it to light always made her feel flushed and messed up. What did caring for a monster make her?

“What type of person still thinks about someone after he’s turned into a dragon and tried to burn down the village?” she murmured, searching his icy blue eyes for an answer, knowing it wasn’t a fair question to ask. Just because he kept saying he understood, didn’t mean he deserved to have it waved in his face.

Instead of getting angry or hurt, however, Eskel’s smile softened around the edges, and he stepped in a bit closer, crowding her. He untangled a lock of her hair from the button on her jacket, careful not to hurt her while he did. The last time they’d been close like this had been behind Willow’s, the night of the Tithe, when they’d kissed for the first time and he’d confessed his feelings.

“If you’ve got thoughts like that,” he practically whispered, the warmth of his breath tickling her cheeks, “then what must you think of me?”

She frowned, and he brushed the pad of his thumb over the crease between her brows, tracing the line of her brow, eyes following everywhere he subtly touched.

“What type of person doesn’t care that the girl he likes is too busy thinking about dragons to bother glancing in his direction?” he asked, and when that caused her spine to stiffen, his smile returned. “What type of person doesn’t care that the girl he likes is turning into one?”

She opened her mouth, but no reply came out.

“Go on a date with me, Arden,” he said. “Let me prove to you that it really doesn’t matter to me.”

“How can you say that?” When she’d first realized her feelings for Mavek were deeper than mere friendship or the need to survive, she’d freaked. Days had gone by where she’d refused to see him, making up one excuse or another about why she was so busy. She’d known what he was, and being attracted to him romantically had terrified her. “How can you be so sure about any of this? Did you even consider leaving?”

“You mean go back to California?” His free hand finally pulled away from her, and he ran his long fingers through his pale blond hair. “To be honest, yeah, of course I did. I came here to find out what happened to Everett, and I did that. Thanks to you.”

“So this is about debt.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Not everything has to be part of some grand ploy. I’m here because I like you. I think you’re funny, and smart, and kind. Even though you shouldn’t have, you let me in when I first arrived, helped me understand things about the world I was only guessing at. The second you found out I was here because of the Unseelie, you could have called me crazy and shunned me. But you didn’t.”

“And look where that got you. Kidnapped by a faerie queen. Almost sacrificed to the Underground.”

“You saved me from all that,” he reminded her.

“I shouldn’t have had to. If it wasn’t for me, you never would have been there in the first place.”

“I make my own choices,” he told her, sounding annoyed for the first time since they’d started this conversation. “Don’t insult me, Arden. If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.” His hand tightened around hers. “If I didn’t want to wait for you, I wouldn’t.”

“I’ve got a lot to figure out right now,” she said tentatively, not wanting him to get the wrong impression. “Even if Mavek wasn’t in the picture, I don’t think I could—”

“I’m not asking you to become my girlfriend overnight,” he cut her off, easily picking up on what she meant. “It’s just one date.”

The rest of the students had left minutes ago, and now they were the only people in the empty classroom, having a ridiculous conversation about fae and deceased siblings. She wasn’t the only one who had a lot going on. If he was willing to try despite all of that, shouldn’t she stop being so stubborn about it?

She liked him. A lot. She still had to sort out her lingering feelings for Mavek, and she meant what she’d said about not being in the right place to begin a new relationship, but… Why couldn’t they go on a date? He’d said it’d be casual, hadn’t he?

“Alright,” she told him, before she could change her mind.

“Yeah?” He grinned at her and grabbed her backpack off the desk, already stepping toward the door. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” She didn’t stop him as he dragged her down the hall, or out the door of the English building and down the stone steps to the parking lot.

“You’ll see.” He glanced at her over his shoulder, a teasing glint in his eyes.

His white jeep was parked near the front. He tossed their packs in the back seat and then unlocked the passenger door for her. Arden climbed in, pretending not to notice Brix standing across the parking lot, watching them from beneath two large oak trees.

They drove out of town and as they crossed the town line, Arden let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding. It’d been close to a year since she’d left Thornbrooke, too caught up in preparing for the Tithe and being a good Heartless to bother much with traveling.

Eskel took them down a long, winding road, the windows down to let in the warm afternoon air. Above, the sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky in a rare blast of heat for early December in upstate New York. Lining the roads were thick firs, trees born to survive the winter––their adaptation to the frost and the bitter cold an evolutionary solution to escaping demise. Sturdy, they could survive even the harshest conditions.

The trees blurred into one as Eskel sped down the empty road, and Arden let her thoughts drift back to what Cato had said at the coffee shop. After the death of her dad when she was a little girl, her mom had been forced to sell the only home she’d ever known for all her young life. But Arden had easily let it go. She’d packed her things quickly, had helped Ainsley do the same, and had gone with barely a second glance over her shoulder.

She missed it, of course, those days when her family had been whole and they’d lived together in a house with more than one floor and a kitchen larger than the bathroom. Missed the way the smell of fresh coffee and burnt toast wafted up the wooden stairs and slipped beneath the crack of the bedroom door every morning. Missed the sound of Ainsley snoring on the bunk bed beneath her, and the never-ending clicks of the neighbor’s backyard sprinkler in the summer.

She hung her hand outside the window, reflecting, as the wind whipped past. Arden missed a lot of things, but she didn’t pine for them. Those memories didn’t keep her up at night, never made her wish she could turn back time and start again. Time was linear and what was past was past.

That’s how she’d viewed her situation after her mother’s death, when things had changed yet again, suddenly and without reason. Her boyfriend had abandoned her for college, her younger sister had been grief-stricken and afraid, and Arden had felt completely lost. Did she stay and go to school like she’d initially planned, or did she pack the both of them up and head to Aunt Charlotte’s to start fresh together?

She’d been leaning toward the latter when Mavek had shown up and given her a third option––one that was crazy and dangerous and wild, but also one that could solve both her and her sister’s problems—one that could save their futures. It’d taken her all of a night to decide that the Tithe was worth it. A single night, pondering a life-altering event that she’d never heard of before, and one that involved the creatures who moved in the shadows and who’d tormented her and her mother all her life.

Adapt. That was something Arden was good at. So why hadn’t she considered adapting to this?

“What are you thinking about?” Eskel asked, cutting into her thoughts. He’d pulled onto a busy street in Grover, a town that bordered Thornbrooke, and was confidently driving through as if he’d done it many times before.

“Where are you taking us?” she asked, instead of answering. She pressed the button to close her window and watched with interest as they came to a left turn, eyes widening when a giant blue and brown sign filled her direct line of sight. “The aquarium?”

It’d been so long since she’d last gone, she’d almost forgotten its existence. Ainsley had loved going when they were kids, had begged their parents to take them at least once a month when she was six.

The parking lot was packed despite the time of year, and Eskel had to drive around a couple times before finding a spot toward the back. The building was massive, painted a clean white with blue trim. Posters and banners showcasing various sea creatures decorated the front, and a picture of a large octopus pointing its tentacles downward marked the aquarium entrance.

They rounded the front of the car and Eskel took her hand once more, the corner of his mouth turning up when she glanced down at their clasped fingers. Without a word he started for the building, weaving them through parked cars and small groups of visitors. He seemed to be excited, more so than she would have expected from a guy on the cusp of adulthood. His eyes scanned the banners and the people, taking in the vanity T-shirts and a departing toddler wearing a hat shaped like a bright orange crab.

“I dare you to get one of those,” Arden said when she saw Eskel grin at it.

“Oh, I will buy it, and I will wear it, and you will be the only one embarrassed by that fact.” He had his wallet in his hand before they’d even made it to the ticket window, had ordered two tickets before she could think to pay for her own.

“This is a date, remember?” he reminded her when he turned and saw her expression, hand back in hers after returning his wallet to his jeans pocket. “Let’s go! What do you want to see first?”

Just before the entrance, a man in a cerulean shirt with the aquarium logo at the center used a manta ray hole punch on their tickets, then waved them in. A trail of painted penguin footprints led them through a maze of blue ribbons and then they were standing in a large, open foyer, leading to four main pathways. The two on the left led to separate exhibit buildings, while the one straight ahead passed by the beluga whales. Another off to the right led to the outside exhibits.

Arden pointed to the path on the right and they started off, weaving through the other onlookers as they passed a large open tank. A group of people was watching one of the massive white beluga whales twist and turn beneath the water, the show glass tall enough to stretch almost ten feet above their heads.

“They can live between 35 to 50 years,” Eskel said, pointing to the whale as it swam close to the glass and practically pressed its nose against it, right where a little girl was watching. “They’re also related to the narwhale. The unicorn of the sea.”

Arden snorted. “Unicorns aren’t real.”

“But the narwhale is.”

“Touché.” They took a stone ramp up, where large, decorative sandstone boulders obscured the view of the whale exhibit. “Do you like belugas?”

“I like all sea creatures,” he told her. “When I was little, I wanted to be a marine biologist. Look!” Up ahead were sea lions, and he pulled them over so they could lean on the metal railing and watch as they darted about in the crystal clear water. Toys bobbed in the water––small plastic barrels and a couple of brightly colored balls. An employee stood at the other end in front of an information booth, listing off facts to the rest of the crowd.

“Do you know the differences between a sea lion and a seal?” he asked her, propping his elbows up so he could get a better look at one of the large, chocolate-brown creatures as it rushed directly beneath them. The exhibit was deep, with viewing windows below so people inside the attached building behind it could also observe.

“Size?” Arden had honestly never thought about it before, but her interest was piqued.

“Well, sure,” he chuckled, and then motioned toward another sea lion, perched on a partially submerged rock, basking in the sun. “Their flippers bend so they can walk with them on land, and they have ear flaps. A seal sort of just, belly crawls and hops about.”

Hearing a light splash behind them, Arden turned, spotting a small, man-made stream that led further down the walkway into a pond. A bridge straddled the pond and supported a couple mini dispenser machines filled with fish food. The sound came again, followed by a familiar snicker she was sure no one else there could hear. She grabbed Eskel’s hand, grinning when he gave her a questioning look, and headed for the center of the bridge next to the dispensers. She dug a hand to the bottom of her purse, rifling for a couple of quarters, pulling them out to triumphantly hold them up to the light.

“You want to feed the coy fish?” Eskel watched as she popped one of the quarters into a machine and twisted the metal knob. Dutifully, he held out his palm when she scooped up the small, tan pellets. Once she’d gotten her own handful of food, she turned to search over the railing of the bridge. It took her a few seconds, but she felt a rush of satisfaction when she finally found what she was looking for.

“I knew I heard them,” she said, mostly to herself, before pulling Eskel closer and pointing to the far left of the pond. “Right there. Do you see them?”

At first he frowned, about to shake his head, but then his eyes widened. “What are those?”

“It’s pronounced fear dearg,” she began. “The fir darrigs are a type of fae rumored to have started off as humans. The legend is, they entered Faerie—or the Underground, as we know it—and turned into that. So now they travel around warning others not to go themselves. But they can be… mean sometimes.”

“They look it.”

Three were huddled together on the bank of the pond, paying the couple no mind. They were small, about the size of a cat, with long, shrew-like snouts and tanned skin covered in patches of wiry black and brown hair. Their clothes were tattered rags, barely hanging on to their plump little bodies, and when one turned to waddle up the bank to a cropping of bushes, Arden had a good look at his thin rat tail dragging behind him.

“If you encounter one,” she warned him, “be polite. They value manners above everything else, and will go out of their way to teach you a lesson if they think you’re rude.”

“Good to know.” Eskel shook the pellets in his hand. “Are we feeding them?”

She chuckled. “No. They eat small fish and snails, mostly. These man-made delicacies are for…” Arden bent over the railing, this time peering into the murky water below to spy a gathering of coy in various shades of orange, gold, black, and white. Some were bobbing up at the surface, anticipating the food.

The pond was a decent size, with marshy banks and tons of surrounding foliage. A large bullfrog sat on a log, croaking, and a small group of turtles floated nearby. It was going to be way too cold out here soon, but for the time being the creatures seemed healthy. Although, Arden didn’t know nearly as much about regular wildlife as Eskel seemed to. Her expertise lay elsewhere.

“There!” She thrust out her index finger at the first sight of a rainbow shimmer. It glided out from beneath a wide lily pad, moving tentatively through the water toward them and slowing just at the perimeter of the coy grouping. A tiny, human-like head then breached the water, no bigger than a crab apple. Tendrils of long, silky brown hair floated around the creature’s small face. Its eyes—slightly larger than a human’s, round and shiny like the silver quarters Arden had stuck in the dispenser earlier—rested on her and Eskel, curious.

“I can see you,” Arden said to the creature, careful not to raise her voice and draw attention their way. Someone watching would probably just think she was talking to the fish, but she liked to be cautious. “Would you like some?” She shook her fist, letting the pellets rattle.

The creature disappeared quickly beneath the surface, the reflective glimmer of her fish tail shooting closer to them. She emerged in the center of the group of coy fish and lifted both arms out over her head, silently asking to be fed.

“This is an undine,” Arden separated one of the small pellets and carefully aimed toward the waiting Unseelie, “they can live anywhere between forever and eternity, and are frequently mistaken for mini mermaids, because of their half-human, half-fish forms.”

The undine snatched the pellet out of the air, shoving the whole thing into her mouth in one gulp. Then she smiled and held her arms up again.

“There’s at least one undine in every body of water on the planet,” Arden continued as Eskel tried lobbing one of his pellets at the creature.

His ended up too far to the right, the food gobbled by a glittery, orange coy fish in less than a blink. The undine covered her mouth and giggled, the sound akin to a high note being tapped repeatedly on the piano. Arden gave her three more before the Unseelie tipped her head and vanished beneath the surface again. This time she didn’t come back up, and after a moment of waiting, Arden tossed the remaining pellets down to the coy. Eskel emptied his hand as well, turning to walk the rest of the way over the bridge with her.

“My dad used to take my sister and me here,” she said as they turned to a winding cement path that led them through a slightly wooded area. A large, bronze statue of a penguin indicated that they were headed for the penguin exhibit. “Ainsley loved it.”

“Everett preferred the zoo,” Eskel told her. “We used to argue over which to go to on summer vacation. My parents worked a lot, so we could never fit in both. The year he died, he won. I still can’t look at lions without missing him. Those were his favorite.”

Arden took his hand and linked their fingers, swinging their arms a bit until he pulled himself out of his momentary melancholy and smiled at her.

They made their way through the penguin exhibit and then leisurely entered one of buildings and immediately encountered a darker room filled with various sized tanks containing all sorts of creatures. One exhibit showcased neon fish, and the two of them leaned in close to the glass.

“Bet I can count more pink ones than you can green,” Arden challenged, already doing so as the dozens of tiny fish swam in front of them. A black light had been installed above, so that all of their little bodies glowed.

“You’re on.” Eskel pursed his lips in concentration.

They both gave up after two minutes and moved on to the next tank.

“Did you see that?” Arden asked, dragging him across the carpeted floor to a large circular tank filled with three different breeds of sharks. She moved so quickly they almost mowed down another couple, but she was too distracted in her search to find the creature she’d just spotted to apologize.

A figure floated out from behind a nurse shark that was slowly drifting over a bed of sand. It started off small in size, but grew as it swam closer to where they watched outside the tank. By the time it reached them, it was basically the size of an adult woman.

Her hair was the color of seaweed, long and tangled around her arms as she pressed her palms against the glass. Her skin was the same shade as the sharks, with a glittery sheen, and though she had legs, her toes and fingers were webbed. Her glassy, black eyes seemed to only notice Eskel, and she pulled back a hand to twirl it in the water once before holding it back up, this time with a couple of dull gold coins resting across her fingers.

“Clearly he’s already taken,” Arden said to the creature, lifting their held hands to shake them vigorously in the Unseelie’s line of sight. The creature frowned, and then glared at Arden. She bared her teeth much like a hissing cat, and pushed herself off the glass to rush across the tank. Her form disappeared in a cloud of sand, and there was nothing left to see but the sharks.

“Asrai don’t like sunlight,” she glanced at the top of the tank at the artificial lighting. “Makes sense she’s in here. I bet she steals scraps from the sharks.”

“What was with the gold?” Eskel asked.

“If they see a human male they like, they’ll try and lure him into the water with them. Sometimes it’s to drown them, other times it’s to keep them as play things. For a little while, anyway. Like most fae, they get bored easily, and the man is eventually found drowned onshore somewhere.”

“Would have been kind of hard for me to get in there,” he pointed out, and then stepped away from the tank. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

They exited the building and crossed to the food court section of the aquarium. The room was designed to look like a large fish tank, the floor to ceiling glass windows overlooking the belugas, an even better view than one would get standing in front of the actual exhibit. The menu was glutted with options, but the two of them both chose the classic diner section. Since it was around three o’clock, most of the crowd had already dissipated.

Arden chose a table in the corner, where they’d get a good view of the whales. She’d gotten chicken tenders, fries, and water, but reached over to snag one of Eskel’s onion rings the second he placed his red tray down. He clucked his tongue at her, then stole a fry in retaliation, popping it into his mouth dramatically.

“I skipped breakfast this morning,” he said, taking a hefty bite of the bacon cheeseburger he’d gotten. “Wow, this is good.”

“I used to love the corndogs here.” She’d debated getting one purely for nostalgia but was craving crunchy, deep-fried chicken instead.

“Can you pass the salt?”

She struggled to open one of the small BBQ packets she’d grabbed from the condiments counter, frustrated when the foil tore to the side. Without thinking, she waved a finger at the glass shaker, sending the object sliding toward him. It bumped against his tray, coming to a stop, but he didn’t immediately reach for it. It wasn’t until she’d finally bested the sauce packet that she noticed he was staring at her, and it took another moment for her to figure out why.

She blinked at the saltshaker, then down at her hand.

“You just moved that,” Eskel said, “with your mind.”

“Yeah.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Whoops?”

“No,” he quickly straightened in his chair, “no, it’s cool. That was pretty cool. And,” he swiveled around to glance at the few people at surrounding tables, “I don’t think anyone else noticed, so no biggie. It’s just… Did you… mean to do that?”

Arden shook her head, then paused and corrected, “Kind of? I sort of just did it, but I thought about it at the same time. Absently. Does that make sense?”

“So it didn’t take a lot of effort?” he sounded curious now, definitely not judgmental, which helped her feel comfortable enough to reply.

“It didn’t take any effort at all,” she admitted.

“Wow.”

“I’m sorry. We were having a totally normal day and I had to go and ruin it.”

He gave her a look like she was crazy, though it was obvious he was playing it up. “Did you forget about the super-cool, Unseelie creature lessons you’ve been giving out? You know, the ones about the things in these exhibits no one other than us could see?”

“You’re right,” she sighed, slumping some. “Today hasn’t been normal at all.”

“Were you not having a good time?” he frowned, and this time it was her turn to instantly deny it.

“No! Of course I was—am! Today’s been great so far. I’m having a lot of fun.”

“Good,” he ate one of his onion rings and smiled at her again, “because honestly, I think it’s been the best trip to an aquarium I’ve ever had. I like that we were able to combine both worlds here. Think about all the times I’ve come to places like this and missed out because I couldn’t see the Unseelie.”

Even though she’d always been able to see them, she had to agree. “I’ve never had someone I could talk about them with. It’s kind of cool, getting to point them out to you.”

“What about your sister?”

“Despite how close we were, Ainsley and I never really talked about the fae. We both could see them, but that wasn’t something either of us often brought into conversation. Maybe she was too afraid. After our mom died, we sort of grew further apart. A lot of that has to do with me making her move in with our aunt.” She snorted, thinking about it. “Funny, how she’s safer now that she’s far away from me.”

If Ainsley hadn’t left, she would have been used against Arden in the Tithe. The memory triggered an influx of haunting images from that night, and she squeezed her hands into fists under the table, trying to get ahold of herself. She didn’t want to think about that night, not when she and Eskel were having such a good time. The ring on his finger winked as he reached for his glass, and Arden tried not to grimace.

Someone with that same ring was going to stab her, and she still had no idea who that person was. She’d considered asking some of the Unseelie for help, but even if she went to Cato, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t blab to Mavek, and Mavek could never know. The second he discovered what the Erlking had shown her, he’d get rid of everyone who owned one of those rings, including Eskel and Cole.

Arden didn’t want to die, but she trusted that neither of her friends would ever hurt her. Which meant she had to figure out who the culprit was on her own. Fortunately, she’d yet to meet any others who used to serve the Erlking. If and when she did, she’d worry about the vision then.

They went back to eating for a few minutes before Eskel cleared his throat and asked, “So how long have you been able to do stuff like that? The whole… telekinesis thing?”

“I turned the coffee maker on without touching it the first week after the Tithe,” she confessed. “You and Cole were in the other room, and I was so shocked that I just needed to pretend it hadn’t happened for a while. When the remote to the TV slid across the couch cushions straight into my hands a few days later, it was kind of hard to keep denying.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully.

“What else can you do?” He sipped his soda. “You’re stronger now, right? What about faster?”

She nodded. “I haven’t tested it out or anything, but yes to both. It’s not like, crazy. I’m not Superwoman or the Flash, but I’m a lot stronger now than an average human.”

He searched her face quietly. “Arden, we all trust you. You’re not going to hurt us.”

“How did you guess that was my biggest fear?”

“I think I know you pretty well by now,” he bragged, stealing another fry and leaning back in his chair. He turned to look out over the food court, humor dropping away when he spotted something. Arden tracked the direction of his gaze, eyes narrowing when she saw what he was looking at.

Beneath one of the square tables in the center of the room sat a fir darrig. He was hunched over the sneakers of a little boy, maybe age four or five, and was busily tying his shoelaces together.

“Hey!” Arden kept her voice firm, although she was careful not to raise it too high. “Unseelie!”

The fae stilled, twisting his head around to look at her over his shoulder. When their eyes met, his own widened, and he dropped the shoelaces in shock. Arden crooked a finger at him, waiting while he debated his next course of action. In the end, he must have decided it was worth checking out if she was a faerie like him or a sighted human, because he scurried out from beneath the table and hobbled over to them.

He couldn’t be taller than one of the penguins they’d seen earlier, the top of his head not quite level with the table. He stopped a few feet away, wrinkled face tipping up so he could maintain eye contact.

She grabbed a couple of fries and held them out to him, smiling lightly when he hesitated. “It’s not a trap, just some free food.”

The Unseelie wrung his hands and smacked his lips, then darted forward in a blur of motion that shocked Eskel enough that he jolted in his seat. Neither she nor the fir darrig paid him any mind. Once he was holding the fries in his wizened hands, he retreated again, nibbling on one of them as he did.

“Do me a favor,” Arden said, “whatever the kid did, forgive him and let it go.”

The Unseelie nodded his head, still munching away.

“And,” she propped her arm on the table and leaned closer, making her expression stern, “don’t pick on human children again.”

He blinked at her, shock returning so his mouth momentarily hung open. Then, his eyes glazed over a bit and he nodded vehemently again.

Arden took one of the onion rings and tossed it at him, which the Unseelie caught easily. “Thanks.”

He didn’t wait for her to say anything else, merely spun on his heels and rushed across the food court and out the door just as a woman happened to tug it open from the outside. His round body brushed against her legs, but she didn’t feel it.

“I guess that was bordering on polite,” Eskel said once it was just the two of them again, and when she frowned, added, “your voice got kind of scary there for a second. I hope he’s not going to take offense and stalk us all the way home.”

She hadn’t realized; she’d thought she was pretty nice all around. “It should be fine. He didn’t seem angry.”

Hopefully that was true. They had enough fae to worry about.

“Anyway,” Eskel ate the last bite of his burger, “what should we look at next?”

“Definitely the octopus,” she answered, and got back to finishing off the rest of her food.

The walk to that section of the aquarium didn’t take long, just a brisk walk in the opposite direction of the outside exhibits. They entered the building and headed down a carpeted ramp, passing a group of school children all dressed in matching neon-green shirts.

“I think it’s this way,” Arden said once they’d stopped in the center, which branched off in four different directions. There were small plaques labeled with different species to indicate the main attraction of each hall. The sign to their left had the word “tunnel” etched on it, along with a small silhouette of an octopus. Eskel glanced at where she was pointing and nodded before taking the lead. They entered and turned the corner, coming to a pause in the doorway.

The tunnel had been built underwater, so that the walkway was completely submerged. It stretched and curved to the left, so they couldn’t see the end or how far the path went, and all around them sea creatures glided and swam. Since five people could comfortably fit shoulder to shoulder, they spread out as they stepped inside, both drawn to opposite sides first.

Arden watched a sea turtle as long as her arm skate by a rocky section within the glass, and trailed after it a few feet before it suddenly twisted and swam away, disappearing as it traveled deeper into the tank. A shadow passed by overhead and she glanced up, eyes widening slightly when she spotted the sandy underbelly of a shark.

“It’s always interesting to me how they can cohabitate,” Eskel said, stepping up to her side. He was watching the shark now as well, only dropping his gaze once it’d completed its pass above them. “I’d be terrified if I lived with sharks.”

She snorted before she could help it, shrugging the reaction away when he raised a questioning brow at her. They lived with Unseelie. Wasn’t that basically the same thing?

She wandered off, and the two of them settled into a momentary silence. Around them, light flickered through the water, casting the tunnel in a serene mixture of brightness and shadow. There were more fish and species than she could count. She couldn’t recall if this section of the aquarium had been there when she’d been a kid––tried to picture a kid version of her sister standing with her face pressed against the glass.

A single woman appeared from around the bend, nodding her head to them once before exiting the way they’d come, leaving them alone once more. It was oddly peaceful, until Eskel thrust an arm out to the side, breaking the tranquil pace they’d been keeping.

“These two are fighting over food.” He motioned her next to him, and curiosity had her stepping close. “At least, I think its food.”

Two bright yellow fish with iridescent stripes on their sides were twisting around one another, mouths both going at a small circular bit of something orange. Neither seemed willing to lose, and every time one would snatch it away, the other became even more aggressive.

“I’ll take this one,” Eskel pointed toward the one on the right, who had a slightly larger snout than the other.

“Are we betting on fish now?” She rolled her eyes.

The two of them huddled closer to get better looks at the two small fish as they continued to war over the piece of food. At one point Arden’s fish dropped it, mouth flapping as the morsel began floating toward the sand-covered bottom, only for Eskel’s fish to swoop in and grab it seconds before it touched the ground.

“What does the winner get?” he asked as both fish swam back up with the food to continue their fight.

“You’re only asking that now because you think you’ll win,” Arden chuckled, shoving at him lightly, pretending to try and take his spot in front of the tank. He laughed, his hip bumping into her as he tried to regain his territory, the momentum causing her to trip over her own feet a bit. Without skipping a beat, he wrapped his arms around her, steadying her next to him, eyes still on the yellow fish. He didn’t remove his hand on her waist.

“Look, look!” Eskel’s grip on her tightened, his fish having successfully grabbed the food and swimming furiously away. Arden’s fish tailed him for a brief moment before giving up, lazily twirling in a half circle before slowly moseying in the opposite direction.

“Knew he could do it,” Eskel joked, finally tearing his attention away to meet her gaze. All at once, he seemed to realize how closely they were standing, and how he was holding her, and he stilled. Their faces were very close to one another, only a breath or two apart, and she was pressed snuggly against his side.

“Your eyes kind of look like coffee,” he murmured, and, as far as compliments went, that wasn’t half bad.

“I like coffee.” She almost cringed at her own words. Stupid.

He laughed, and she felt his fingers flex around her hip. His eyes dropped to her mouth, and without meaning to, she shifted slightly onto the tips of her toes, almost like her body was angling to accept a kiss. And maybe her instincts were right, because she could have sworn that he started leaning in closer, his lips just about to touch hers when—

The sound of pounding footsteps and the raucous laughter of a child burst their bubble. A boy came racing around the corner, arms flailing and wide grin in place. He couldn’t be older than two, still a bit wobbly on his feet. A second later, his mother came into view, clearly stressed. When she noticed that she and her son weren’t alone, she gave them an apologetic look and grabbed her kid. She whispered to him about the dangers of running off alone as she headed for the exit.

The interruption had caused them to pull apart, and she felt a bit nervous when they were alone again but she met his gaze. He looked into her eyes, the corner of his mouth tipping up in a half smile, and stretched his hand out to her to close the distance.

“You heard her,” he said, confidently. “It’s dangerous to be alone. We wouldn’t want to get separated.”

Arden hesitated. He sounded so earnest, and she got the distinct feeling that he wasn’t just making a joke. But a heartbeat later, her body seemingly moved on its own, and she found herself reaching out, clasping her hand in his. His fingers tightened around hers, smile broadening, and then he tugged her next to him and angled his head toward the bend in the path. “Let’s go see that octopus now.”

Arden was grateful for the way the water distorted the light all around them because she was pretty sure she was blushing.

Arden was still thinking about their trip to the aquarium a few days later. It was starting to get too cold for her to be riding her bike around town, but she’d stubbornly taken it out this morning anyway. In the past, Mavek would have offered her a car for the winter, but there was no way she was going to accept something like that from him now. She was going to have to figure something out on her own. The town was small enough she could get to most places on foot, but with temperatures dropping, how much longer was she going to want to do that?

She had the day off and was on her way to Howl’s when Cole texted asking her to stop by. Tabby was on shift, and he suggested they take advantage of the slow traffic at the store to comb through a few more books that he’d recently acquired.

As she pedaled through town, Arden debated whether or not she wanted to tell them to just forget the whole thing. She’d realized they weren’t going to be able to find anything on their own, and Eskel’s idea was still the best any of them had come up with. Despite what everyone else had been telling her, Arden wasn’t ready to accept defeat and give up…. However… she was pretty sure there was no way she was going to discover Mavek’s true name.

She was also tired. Tired of all the meet-ups that went nowhere, and the guilt she felt every time she made her friends stick around the library until closing hours. What was the point of wasting their time like that if they weren’t going to find anything?

Not to mention, if the Midnight King found out she was asking about something as dangerous as his true name… She didn’t know how he’d react. Right now, he was playing it safe, still trying to win Arden over. Would that change if he knew she was willing to discover and use something so dangerous against him? An Unseelie’s biggest weakness––aside from iron––was his true name. That knowledge would make her a threat, and threats against someone who lived forever were taken seriously to prevent any future attacks.

Arden rode her bike up to the side of Howl’s and sighed as she hit the brakes. As badly as she wanted to pursue this—it was her only option—she also had to admit that Cato was right to warn her off it. What if she just ended up putting her friends in greater danger?

She snapped her bike lock into place and pulled her coat tighter as she walked to the front door. The bell jingled when she opened it but no one came out to greet her. She headed for the employees-only section, and down the short hallway to the storage room. After advancing only a few feet, she picked up on voices, slowing when she heard one of them say her name.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Cole said from somewhere within the room. He sounded tired. “Arden isn’t like that. I only asked how you really felt because I thought for sure we were on the same page.”

“You left her,” Tabby’s voice came next, sharper than his, “I didn’t. I’ve known her the longest, and I like her the way she is. Excuse me for not wanting her to change, especially when that change is into something other than human. Are you forgetting what they’re like?”

Arden felt her blood go cold and she came to a complete stop a few feet away from the open door.

“The Unseelie are monsters,” Tabby continued, completely unaware they now had an audience, “every last one of them.”

“Are you afraid she’s going to abandon us for them? Come on, Tab.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“What are you saying exactly?”

“Why are you attacking me all of a sudden?” she demanded. “How am I the bad guy here for not wanting my best friend to turn into a monster?”

Arden sucked in a breath, clasping a hand over her mouth a second too late. For a moment, their voices quieted and she feared they’d heard her, but then Cole sighed loudly and made a tsking sound.

“That’s cold, cousin.”

Tabby was silent for a beat and then mumbled, “Whatever. Are you going to help me sort this stuff or what?”

Before she realized it, Arden had turned on her heels and rushed back down the hall and into the main store. She pushed the door open with more force than necessary, the bell clanging behind her. Unlocking her bike, she shoved the lock into her jacket pocket, half of it still hanging out. She rode away from the store with no real destination in mind, unable to feel the sharp sting of icy air against her cheeks or the way her lungs burned with every inhale.

Tabitha’s words kept repeating over and over in her mind as she moved farther and farther from Howl Books. The way she’d sneered the word monster was like an echo in Arden’s brain, banging against her skull so loudly it caused tears to prick the corners of her eyes.

They’d told her that they’d accept her no matter what. They’d said it didn’t matter. From the sound of it, Cole hadn’t been lying, and after what had happened with the saltshaker, Arden knew Eskel hadn’t been either but…

Tabitha was her oldest friend. She couldn’t recall a time when they hadn’t known each other. She’d thought for sure, out of all of them, Tabby was the one who would stand by her for real. She’d believed her without question when she’d said it didn’t matter if they couldn’t stop Arden’s change.

She’d been lied to. Again. Somehow it hurt just as much as when she’d discovered Mavek’s first lie, though it stung in a different way.

Tabby had been with her the first time she’d skinned her knee, and that time she and Ainsley had fought over who got the biggest chocolate chip cookie, even though they all knew Ainsley didn’t even like them. When Arden’s dad had died, Tabby had been there to hold her while she cried. Same when her mom had passed. They’d cursed Cole together when he’d left, Tabby calling her cousin all sorts of names in solidarity.

The Unseelie are monsters, every last one.

It was what Arden had thought to herself, many times over the past few weeks, in the dead of night when she was alone with her thoughts. It was what she dreaded most––that she’d turn into something evil and manipulative. That she’d do something to hurt the people she cared about the most.

She pushed herself until her thighs burned and she was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, despite the dropping temperature. She rode until she was all the way on the old side of town, speeding through winding roads, past houses large enough to fit three generations of people comfortably. She’d gone on autopilot, so that when she finally came out of it enough to realize where she was, she feared she’d look up and find herself at Rose Manor. Instead, she came to a screeching halt when she realized she was in front of her old house. The one she’d grown up in. The one she and Tabby had played in as children.

The porch light was on, and for a moment she didn’t notice, too caught up in the swirl of mixed memories, all vying for attention at once. But then she saw that the front door was also ajar, and she frowned. The place had been purchased, but as far as she knew the owners had never moved in. Even now, there wasn’t a single car in the long driveway. No other lights were on inside the large two-story either, just the one over the porch and the one in the foyer.

Arden let her bike drop onto the curb and moved across the front yard stealthily. She kept her gaze on the crack that allowed her to see into the house, waiting for any signs of movement. When she’d made it all the way up onto the porch and was standing directly before the door, she lifted a hand, hesitating, with her fingers brushing against the painted red wood.

What was she doing? This wasn’t her home anymore––hadn’t been for many years––and she’d never come here like this in the past. Clearly someone was here, even if she couldn’t see any vehicles. Maybe the people who bought the house were finally moving in and had simply forgotten to lock up behind them. If she went in now, it’d be trespassing….

As if with a mind of its own, her hand moved, easing the door open wider to expose the polished wooden staircase that led up to the second floor. That’s where her and Ainsley’s bedrooms had been.

“Hello?” she called out, listening as her voice pinged around the wide-open space.

There was no reply.

Tentatively, she crossed the threshold, pausing just inside the doorway to stare to her left at the entranceway that once led to their sitting room. The lights were off but her eyes adjusted quickly, and she was able to pick up the outlines of furniture covered in sheets and the empty mantel over the fireplace. She’d never been able to see that well in the dark before.

The Unseelie are monsters.

Swallowing the bile that threatened to rise up her throat, Arden turned away to the right, stepping into what used to be their dining room area. The space had been completely cleared—her mom had taken the table to the house Arden currently lived in—so there was nothing but four blank walls and a lot of empty space. She tried to picture what it’d been like before, the room filled with the table and chairs and the large oval mirror her mom had loved so much. Vividly, she recalled their last Thanksgiving together as a family, when an overly excited Ainsley had bumped into their dad, causing him to slip and nick himself with the carving knife. The wound hadn’t been deep, and she’d cried about it more than he had.

“You’re smiling,” the smooth voice drifted in from her left, pulling her from the memory. He stood off to the side in the doorway that led into the kitchen, partly obscured by shadows, and even her advanced eyesight couldn’t make out all of him. He tipped his head. “Hello, heart.”

“Mavek.” All at once, the rush of adrenaline left her. She was exhausted and her body felt like lead. “I’m too tired to fight with you tonight.”

“I didn’t come for that,” he said.

“Why are you here at all?” She rubbed at her temple and tried to pull herself together enough so that he couldn’t tell she’d been crying on her way here. The last thing she needed was for him to find out what she’d overheard Tabby say. For him to tell her “I told you so” and try to convince her, yet again, that he was all she had.

That he was all she’d ever really had.

Mavek glanced around the room as if inspecting it and stepped forward. “I come here sometimes. To think.”

“Why?” She let her confusion show, glad that it would help hide her sadness from earlier.

His gaze swept back to hers. “I own it.”

“You what?”

He took another step closer. “I bought this house a while ago. I bought it for you.”

When the bills had piled up and she’d almost lost the house she currently lived in, he’d been the one to help her settle the debt. But he’d never mentioned this place to her, not once, not even in passing.

“You left town the other day,” he continued when she took too long to reply. “Where did you go?”

“That’s none of your business.”

He hummed in the back of his throat. “I suppose it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. We’ve all got our secrets.”

“It’s not a secret,” she insisted, clenching her hands into fists at her sides as he slowly moved closer. “It just doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

She no longer had a reason to keep her time with Eskel a secret from anyone, not anymore. She wasn’t a Heartless and she wasn’t breaking any rules. Still, she didn’t elaborate.

“What about what the Erlking showed you that night?”

She paused. If she thought letting him know she’d gone on a date would put Eskel in danger, telling Mavek about the death vision in which a person wearing the Erlking’s ring stabbed her would be worse.

“I told you,” she lifted a shoulder, not sure if she pulled off the nonchalance, “it was nothing. I don’t even remember.”

“You seem tired, Arden,” he said, dropping the subject.

The conversation she’d overheard at Howl’s was still fresh in her mind. Coupled with the fact that she’d ridden her bike here in forty-some degree weather and was already mentally drained seeing him, tired was an understatement.

“You should get some rest,” he suggested. “Come to the manor. I’ll send everyone else away.”

Since his home acted as his castle in many ways, it wasn’t uncommon for it to be packed with fae. He’d ordered the place clear for her benefit before, on a couple of different occasions, but that’d been when she was his Heartless. Right now, he was protecting her for other reasons, and the rest of his people knew it.

She’d considered mentioning Twila, yet decided against it. She’d told Mavek she wouldn’t go to him for help again, and she could handle the disgruntled Unseelie on her own. At least, she was pretty sure she could, if what had happened at Willow’s was any indication.

“That’s a hard pass,” she said.

“Stop being so stubborn; you’ll only hurt yourself more in the end.”

“I’m going to go,” she took a step back toward the foyer; “I don’t know why I came here in the first place.”

He canted his head. “I called you.”

“What?” That gave her pause, the ground seemingly dropping out from under her, because he could only mean magically.

The candied roses he’d tricked her into eating, the ones that were turning her from human to fae, also linked the two of them in ways she still didn’t quite understand. Partly because she was too much of a coward and didn’t want to know. Mostly because she’d been too afraid to ask him.

Mavek held out his right hand, one corner of his mouth tipping up in a half smirk. A car drove by outside, the headlights flashing through the bay window, causing his eyes to reflect. All of his tattoos were covered by black silk tonight, but if she thought about them, she knew exactly where each rose was located on his body.

“I can summon you whenever I like, Arden,” he said. “You’ll come at my will, even if you don’t know that’s what you’re doing. You keep refusing to see me, and yet… here we are.”

“More manipulation,” she concluded. “You’re insane if you think that’s going to help you convince me you’re sorry. The last thing I want is to be around someone I can’t trust.”

“You’re mistaken,” he dropped his hand, slipping them both into his front pockets, “to think that I’m apologetic about anything. I don’t regret what I’ve done. It’s unfortunate that you’re hurting like this, but those feelings won’t last. You’ll move past your resentment and see that I was right in my choices. Anger clouds your judgment, that’s all.”

“Don’t do that!” She thought of Tabby’s statement. “Don’t make it seem like I’m the one in the wrong here because I’m human. No matter who you are, or how you look at it, what you did was not okay, Mavek. How can you seriously think that it is?”

The Unseelie are monsters.

“How could you do this to me?!” She pounded a hand on her chest, not caring that it was childish, way past needing to seem mature and together in front of him. What did it matter anyway, if he could visibly see how broken she was? It wasn’t like he didn’t already know it.

He knew everything about her.

“You predicted it would be like this,” she continued, voice leveling some after her outburst, “you had to have. You should know I can’t forgive you. That I won’t.”

“Arden,” he sighed, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. There is no reversing it.”

“There are just as many stories about fae turning human as there are about humans turning fae,” she argued, though truthfully she wasn’t sure that was a legitimate fact. She’d only stumbled on a few herself. “Corrigans spend their lives trying to lure human men into falling in love with them, just so they can become human themselves. It’s got to be done somehow. And what about creatures like the fir darrig? Or—”

“You aren’t going to turn into something like that,” he cut her off tersely. “You think I’d make you hideous?”

“Wow.” It was all she could think of to say, though inwardly she had to admit that was a small comfort. Waking up with a tail, or wings, or webbed toes had been a reoccurring nightmare of hers, one she hadn’t even been able to tell Eskel about.

“You might not be able to feel it,” he told her, eyes scanning her quickly, “but I do. You’re almost there already. You will become an Unseelie, Arden. It’s better to give into that truth now, and let me help you before you develop any skills you can’t handle.”

“So you keep saying,” she drawled. What was the point in having the same conversation over and over again?

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“How can I possibly believe that?”

“The problem here is that you don’t want to,” he replied tightly. “That’s always been your biggest flaw, heart. You have the sight, and yet you blind yourself to reality. You can’t be angry that I’ve used that to my advantage, especially if you aren’t willing to acknowledge and change it.”

She frowned. “You keep making it sound like this is my fault.”

“Maybe that’s because you aren’t the only one upset here, Arden. The first time we met, you asked me, ‘Did my mom do that because of the things we can see?’ and I answered, ‘Yes’. What part of that wasn’t truth?”

“You made it seem like that was part of our curse,” she argued. “Or are you forgetting about the fact that afterwards, I asked if the same thing would happen to Ainsley and me?”

“I remember everything,” he said softly. “Back then, I didn’t know how I would eventually feel about you. I wanted to use you to win the Tithe, so when I answered yes, that’s what I was referring to. Your curse was what made you agree to be my Heartless, therefore your curse would put you and your sister in the same position as your mother. I did not lie.”

“You manipulated everything!”

“And when I asked you if you wanted to be with me?” He took a step closer. “You told me you did. You said you loved me.”

He reached for her and she slapped him away, but that didn’t deter him. Gently, he took her chin, undeterred when she tried to push at his wrist, using his strength to keep her from being able to.

“I love you,” he told her. “I love you, and you said you loved me, so I did everything I could to ensure we could be together. Was that so wrong? It’s what you wanted, Arden.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t want this.”

Mavek stared down at her, searching her eyes for something. Whatever he found, he didn’t like it, releasing her and dropping his hand to his side. “You’d rather I left you human, mortal, and suffered your eventual death? When I thought about us together, I thought in terms of forever. You merely wanted a boyfriend for a few years. How is that not crueler than what I’ve done? How is you throwing me aside better than my trying desperately to cling on?”

Her mouth opened, and at first nothing came out. She had to close it and try again, her shock palpable. “You’re doing it again, twisting things.”

“How?” he demanded, eyes flashing. His hands fisted at his sides. “Tell me which part isn’t true.”

It’d only been a week since the last time she’d seen him, yet somehow, she’d managed to forget. This was what made him so dangerous, not the supernatural speed or abilities, but his silver tongue. Because, in many ways, he was right. Even when he twisted it, the truth was still at the root of everything he said.

“You were going to leave me,” he stated. “If I’d left you as you were, you were going to leave me eventually, whether by unnatural causes or old age.”

“People die, Mavek. That’s what happens.”

“Humans die,” he corrected, taking another step closer so that she had to tip her head all the way back to maintain eye contact, “but Unseelie can live forever. I gave you eternal life, with me, whom you claimed to love.”

“You never asked if that’s what I wanted.” She felt bitter tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, didn’t fight against them. “I like being human.”

He stepped back suddenly, almost as if she’d lashed out at him physically.

“You wanted me to give up everything for us, but were unwilling to do the same. You thought to take my years, fill them up with you, but give none in return. You think what I’ve done is selfish; if you had your way, you’d use me up and leave me in sixty years at best, grieving and desperate and yearning. I may be able to change you physically, Arden Archer, but you’re right about one thing. Your love is very human.”

“I could have warned you against getting entangled with a mortal heart, Midnight. If you’d only asked.” The new voice surprised them both, and with a blur of motion, Mavek repositioned himself in front of Arden, blocking her from whoever had just spoken.

The newcomer was standing in the doorway between the dining room and the foyer, and when she peeked around Mavek’s arm, she was even more surprised to see it was Krit.

“I have some secondhand experience with that,” Krit continued, now that he had their undivided attention, “if you recall.”

It didn’t take a genius to realize he was referring to Brix and his relationship with Everett. Just how involved were Brix and Krit before for such bitterness to surface in his tone now, even after so many years?

“What are you doing here?” Mavek asked, the warning in his voice clear. He didn’t move away from Arden, kept his back pressed against her front and his arms ready to block her.

His reaction made her nervous. The King of Wonder hadn’t paid her any mind at the crowning ceremony, so Arden hadn’t thought much of him aside from mild curiosity about his past with the new Autumn Prince.

“I was looking for you.” Krit filled up the entire entryway, neither relaxed nor threatening. “There are things we need to discuss.”

“We can do so at the manor,” Mavek began only to have the other fae disagree.

“It’s not just you this conversation is meant for.” He tipped his head to the side, catching Arden’s gaze with his own. When he smiled, his mouth stretched just a little too wide to be considered normal, and two sharp canines poked out from beneath his upper lip. “Hello, Arden Archer. I apologize for the interruption, though, from the looks of it, you should be thanking me for putting an end to what had to be an uncomfortable topic.”

“Don’t speak to her,” Mavek growled, only to have Krit laugh boldly in his face.

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten our stations, Midnight. You might be the highest-ranking Unseelie in this territory, but I am from another. We are on even ground, you and I. Act like it.”

“She’s my—”

Krit waved him off. “I am aware. Obviously. And that isn’t why I’m here. I have no intention of getting involved in your melodrama. This issue simply concerns the both of you, and so here I am. Really, it’s a favor I’m doing.”

For a moment, Mavek was silent, and then, “If you think that makes us even for the past, it does not.”

What happened between the two of them in the past?

“You haven’t even heard what I have to say yet.”

Arden gripped the back of his arm, tugging him a bit closer while moving more to his side to get a better view. If she didn’t cling to him, she knew he’d only force her to stay behind him, and she was curious about what Krit had to tell them. It took a lot to worry one of the fae, and a closer look at Krit showed that he was, in fact, worried about something.

Mavek glanced down at her, clearly wanting to say something but held his tongue. Finally, he turned back to Krit, and gave a single curt nod for him to continue.

“You know I still have connections to our home world,” he began, “spies who willingly feed me information. There’s been a big stir up here since the Tithe; many have traveled from far off places to get a look at your ever-changing mortal there.”

They’d been aware more Unseelie were flooding into town. This wasn’t exactly news.

“Unfortunately for you, your average fae aren’t the only ones curious.”

“We haven’t heard anything,” Mavek pointed out. “If Herla hadn’t been accepted, surely we would have by now.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Krit acknowledged. “They’ve been a bit busy. There’s revolt in the Underground, thanks to that little trick you pulled. I’ve been told the court’s a mess, and the youngest prince has seized this opportunity and is rallying against his oldest brother.”

“What?” There was a thin layer of panic in Mavek’s tone now. “How?”

“I don’t know the details,” he shrugged, “only that the Crown Prince wanted to reject Herla as the offering, and the youngest prince thought otherwise.”

“Because an Unseelie doesn’t have a soul?” Arden asked, realizing too late she probably should have stayed quiet. Mavek tensed next to her, but Krit merely smiled.

“It’s true the Erlking doesn’t possess a soul of his own, however, what you sent them was more than bountiful in that department. Didn’t Midnight tell you?” He canted his head at Mavek, eyes gleaming. “I’m sure you knew.”

“About Herla’s collection?” Mavek grunted. “Of course.”

Krit hummed, and repeated. “Of course. That’s how you were able to stand so confidently before Titania and the rest after sending him to the Underground in a mortal’s place. He had, what? Five souls on him at the time?”

“Eight,” Mavek corrected.

“Oh, even better.”

“What are you talking about?” Arden asked Mavek, fingers tightening around the thick material of his jacket sleeve. Clearly she was meant to hear and understand this conversation, otherwise Krit wouldn’t have insisted on her presence, and she hated that she was in the dark.

“Do you recall the rings Herla always wore?” When she nodded he continued. “Each contained a human soul.”

“The souls of all his successful Heartless,” Krit added. “After one of his Heartless won him the Tithe, he’d send their loved one as the sacrifice, then kill them and take their soul for himself. Honestly, when I heard he’d been sent to the Underground, I thought he’d use them to bargain for his freedom and eventual return here.”

So, whether or not Everett had won, the Erlking would have murdered him?

Brix had to have known that, right? He’d been with the Erlking for so long, how could he not? And if that was the case, why hadn’t he warned Everett from the beginning?

“He hasn’t?” If he was worried about that possibility, Mavek didn’t show it.

“He doesn’t have many friends, though I’ve been told the Crown Prince took an interest.”

“Even though he wanted to reject him as the Tithe?” Arden asked.

“We’re a capricious lot.” Krit shrugged, as if that explained everything.

“While this is all very interesting,” Mavek drawled then, “I’m not seeing what this has to do with either of us here.”

“Which brings me back to how I started,” he said. “I have no proof, as it’s been kept highly classified—not even the rest of the royal family know, apparently—but rumor has it, the Crown Prince is here.”

“What possible reason could he have—” Mavek stopped, ground his teeth as realization hit him. “He’s curious about Arden and me.”

“An Unseelie has never sided with a human against his own so publicly before,” Krit agreed. “And it’s well known she won’t be human much longer. Your reputation precedes you, even in the Underground, Midnight. It’s not like you’re unaware of this fact. You should have realized they’d be curious to see what kind of creature was able to ensnare you so.”

Arden tried not to react when Krit turned that odd grin her way once again.

“Midnight has never shown an interest in the affairs of the heart before. He’s the only one among us who never once wavered toward another, never taken a lover for more than a night, never taken a second glance in anyone’s direction. He’s always been colder than the Winter Prince when it comes to romantic feelings. And yet…”

He’d tossed the Erlking into the Underground without a second’s hesitation. For Arden. Krit didn’t have to finish his sentence for her to catch on.

“You don’t seem surprised by any of this,” he added, still watching her.

In the beginning, Mavek had comforted her, had come whenever she needed him to. But he hadn’t been warm, per se. Reliable was a better word. They’d made a deal, after all, they’d needed each other in order to achieve a common goal. She would be his Heartless and win him the Tithe, and he would ensure her family’s curse was broken. That had been the extent of it.

Then once she’d started developing feelings, he’d softened some, but never enough for her to consider he reciprocated. It wasn’t until close to the Tithe that he admitted he loved her too, and to say she’d been surprised was an understatement. The most interest she’d seen him show in anyone up until that point had been with Titania when she’d caught them in the greenhouse.

“Curious fae are dangerous fae,” she said finally, wanting to get them back on track. “Should I be worried about this prince, whoever he is?”

“Probably not,” Krit answered. “Maybe so.”

“That’s oddly not very comforting.”

“Again,” he said, “this is merely a rumor. It might not even be true. Surely we would have felt if someone as powerful as the Crown Prince had arrived.”

“Finch isn’t the type to lurk in the shadows,” Mavek agreed, thinking it over. “He’d need fanfare and attention.”

“Exactly.”

“If it isn’t true, why do you think people are saying it is?” Arden asked.

“It’s one of many rumors circulating the Underground.” Krit crossed his arms. “The infighting between the brothers has gotten intense, even the king apparently can’t put an immediate stop to it. Everyone’s talking, trying to stir things up from the outside.”

“You think this was a lie told by the Crown Prince’s people in order to fool his younger brother?” Mavek clucked his tongue. “Sparrow won’t fall for it easily.”

“If he thinks Finch is here, he’ll come to see for himself.”

“So,” Arden’s mind raced to keep up, especially since they were using names she’d never heard before, “if this Crown Prince—Finch—is here—”

“Which is very doubtful,” Krit put in, but she held up a hand. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t reprimand her.

“—he’s probably just watching from the sidelines and I don’t need to freak out. But, even if he’s not here, it might be a lie told in order to get this other prince—Sparrow—to come here and keep him distracted? Either way, there will probably at some point be a royal prince in town soon. Correct?”

“She says as if she isn’t currently standing among royalty already,” Krit said to Mavek, though his tone was teasing and light. “But yes, that’s the gist of it. Perhaps you should avoid speaking with any foreign fae. Just to be safe.”

“You people talk to me,” she stated, “not the other way around. If I had my way, I’d wash my hands of the lot of you.”

“Arden,” Mavek warned, but it was impossible to tell if it was because she’d hurt his feelings or if he was worried about her insulting Krit.

“I don’t know anything about how the Underground works,” she told them, “and I don’t want to. If you came here because you think I might go around actively looking for these princes you’re—”

“You think you’ve been clever enough to mask what you’ve been up to?” Mavek interrupted. “You have not, heart.”

“It’s true,” Krit agreed. “We’re well aware that you and your friends are trying desperately to find a way to stop your change. Another reason so many Unseelie have stuck around. We’re all curious to see how long it takes for you to give up.”

Arden’s breath caught in her chest. “There has to—”

“I give you a handful of weeks, at best,” he cut her off. “You should really consider accepting your fate before then. I’m older than Midnight, Arden Archer. Older than Titania and Brix and Cato and any other fae you may have come into contact with in your very short lifespan. There’s no need to go off looking for Underground princes to ask them to give you the same answer I’m giving you now.”

That’s why he was telling her all of this. He thought she was going to hear about Finch or Sparrow and look for them in the hopes that they’d give her a way out of this mess. It only confused her more, because… Was he warning her off knowing she’d actually find something? Or was he warning her off—

“Why do you care if I get involved with them?” she asked, realizing there wasn’t really another reason she could see.

“I don’t care about you,” he stated, humor finally dropping away. “But it seems like Midnight isn’t the only one snared in your orbit.”

“Brix.”

“He’s newly crowned,” he confirmed. “If you do something to piss off one of the precarious princes, they’ll take out their ire on the people around you. Midnight is too high standing, even for them. They cannot touch him. But Brix? As a Lutin, he was never meant to be an Autumn Prince in the first place.”

He’d said as much to her before, when they’d been at her house, so she knew it was true.

“For a species that constantly claims not to be selfish, you all really like coming to me in order to protect others.” Brix had done the same with Eskel, more than once. Now here was Krit.

Twila wanted revenge for Victor, and Mavek, even as twisted and messed up as his love was, did love her. The Unseelie were monsters, she couldn’t reject that notion, but they had feelings––made connections––same as humans did. Maybe Arden couldn’t stop changing, maybe they were all really telling her the truth about that. Either way, it didn’t mean she had to become a monster. It made her sick, the realization that she’d just gained comfort from them, but at least they weren’t aware of it.

“I’m never going to be someone like the Erlking,” she said aloud, drawing both of their attention with her sudden change of topic. “Or Titania. I won’t mess with people for the fun of it, or put their lives in jeopardy for my own selfish gains. I don’t ever want to be one of you, but more than that, I don’t want to see my friends get hurt. Their safety is the most important thing to me.”

“Even more important than being human?” Krit seemed to find this concept fascinating, and maybe she should have been suspicious of that.

“Yes,” she found herself answering, watching as that freaky grin split across his face a third time.

“You’ve delivered your message,” Mavek said between them, “and your concerns.”

“Very true.” Krit tore his gaze off of Arden, his smile a little less bright. “I’ll take my leave then. You won’t be seeing the Autumn Prince or me for a while, so this is goodbye for now, Midnight.”

“Brix is going with you?” Arden couldn’t help but frown.

“His place has always been by my side,” he told her firmly. “I appreciate the friendship you’ve shown him, and I expect you to continue to do so in the very long future ahead of you.”

She wasn’t sure how she was meant to take that. He didn’t really give her much time to think it over. With one last glance at them both, Krit turned and disappeared out of the house, leaving the front door open behind him.

“Well,” Mavek drawled once they were alone, “this night didn’t exactly go as I had hoped.”

Realizing she was still holding onto him, Arden dropped his sleeve and moved away. “It wasn’t going to anyway.”

His mouth thinned, but he didn’t reply to her statement, instead announcing, “I’ll take you home.”

“I can go just fine on my own, thanks.”

“I wasn’t asking you, Arden.”

She considered fighting with him over this as well, but pride aside, she wasn’t sure she could actually make it home on her own. It was pitch black out now, and the temperature had dropped even more. Her thighs still ached from her exertion earlier, and the thought of getting back on her bike and pedaling home made her want to groan.

“Fine,” she gave in with a sigh, ignoring the shocked look on his face, “but my home. If it so much as looks like you’re headed for the manor, I swear I will jump out of the moving car.”

“I can simply lock the doors,” he said, then held up his hands when she glared at him. “It was a joke, heart. Come.” He motioned toward the exit. “I had Cato bring the car as soon as you arrived.”

Of course he had.

“They live in the shadows and the light, part of this world and not. Forever is their eternal friend, and they will not succumb to minor things like disease or famine. Their beauty, though sometimes grotesque, is unmatched by any other worldly being, and if given the slightest opportunity, they will turn that beauty against any human person. Greed is their sole desire, curiosity their main purpose. They are—”

“—super annoying and all assholes?” Tabby interrupted, holding up a hand to make a talking motion with her fingers. “We aren’t going to find anything in that book we don’t already know. It’s just like all the rest.”

Eskel sighed and dropped the thick volume he’d checked out from the library into the center of their circle, on top of a pile of others they’d also recently retrieved.

They were in Arden’s living room, seated on the floor, where they’d been for the past hour. It’d only been a day since she’d overheard Cole and Tabby’s conversation at Howl’s and she’d hoped to avoid them for a bit, but they’d shown up without calling, forcing her to let them in.

Logically, she knew she was going to have to talk to Tabby. There was no way she could go on acting like everything was fine. But she didn’t exactly know what to say yet. A lot had happened that day, and she was still struggling to sort through all the various things she felt not just for her best friend but for Mavek as well. For now, she was just trying not to seem too obvious, though it was hard to look Tabby in the eye. She was sure Eskel had already picked up on the weirdness between them, even if the other two seemed oblivious. He kept sending her sideways glances, silently asking what was wrong whenever she caught him staring.

Arden sighed, eyes burning from reading all the tiny words, and tipped her head back against the couch cushions. “We should just stop.”

What she really wanted was for them to leave her alone so she could think.

“There are still three more we haven’t even opened,” Eskel argued, at the same exact time that Cole said absently, “She’s right.”

Everyone grew silent, and when Arden lifted her head again, she found Cole was meticulously picking the thinly sliced apple from his piece of pizza. He didn’t seem to notice that he was being stared at, too busy flicking off lingering bits of cheese so he could keep that while discarding the fruit.

Arden and Tabby’s choice in pizza was pretty unique, she had to admit, as it was something they’d come up with when they were kids. But Cole had always loved the apple, bacon, and three-cheese blend. Next time she saw Cato, she should ask how long the effects of the rotten faerie fruit would last. She felt bad that Cole had only recently broken his curse and gotten his appetite back, just to end up like this.

“Uh, hello?” Tabby said finally, when her cousin still didn’t react to their attention. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not?” he asked. “It’s the truth. She knows it. Even if there is something to find, which there isn’t, we certainly aren’t going to find it in any of these musty old books.”

“Oh, so we should check the local bookstore and find something new, is that what you mean?” her voice oozed sarcasm.

“We should give up,” he corrected casually, like he was merely suggesting they order French fries with their pizza next time.

“Dude.” Eskel elbowed him in the side.

“What?” Finally, Cole abandoned his pizza and glanced around at them. “Our friendship would be better served helping her to come to terms with herself––that’s all I’m suggesting. While we waste time trying to find a cure to the incurable, Arden is rapidly changing. Unless we want the Midnight King to swoop in at the last second to teach her the things she needs to know, we’d best reevaluate how we spend our days.”

“How do you know there’s no way to fix it?” Arden asked. Up until this point, he’d been onboard with the others, confident that they’d find something eventually as long as they kept looking. “Did Titania say something to you the other night?”

“So what if she did?” Eskel stated. “Unseelie lie.”

“Imagine, for a moment, that they didn’t,” Cole suggested, “at least, not about this. We’ve already done a ton of research and found nothing, correct? As far as we can tell, there are no known cases of humans-turned-fae turning human again, at least not without many years passing and immediate death occurring once the change is reversed. We might not want to believe it, but all signs point to there really being no cure.”

Everyone Arden had spoken to so far had said as much, and she just hadn’t wanted to believe them. Now that it was Cole agreeing with them though, it was harder to ignore. They really hadn’t made any progress whatsoever, and truthfully, she’d been starting to feel like they were all wasting their time.

The vision the Erlking had shown her of her death raced through her mind. A Tithe every seven years meant many people out there had to be wearing Erlking’s ring. But there were only two that Arden knew of, and they were both seated across her. She hadn’t believed that either Cole or Eskel would kill her, but… if she really was turning into an Unseelie, who could say for sure that they wouldn’t be tempted?

No, she inwardly scolded herself. She had to put a stop to those thoughts. Of the three people in the room with her, only one of them had shown they couldn’t accept her if she was a faerie. And it wasn’t either of the guys.

Maybe this was her opportunity to broach the subject––get Tabby to express how she really felt to her face, instead of behind her back. It was cowardly, not bringing it up directly with her, but Arden wasn’t sure she could handle hearing Tabby say that she would eventually hate her. At least she’d have Eskel and Cole here to comfort her if Tabby said as much in front of them.

“Let’s say I turn fae,” she said, shaking her head when both Tabby and Eskel opened their mouths to argue. “Just, let’s say I do. What happens then?”

“What do you mean?” Tabby frowned.

“She doesn’t know her place,” Cole rightly surmised, and Arden nodded.

“With us,” Eskel tentatively asked, “or with them?”

“Either,” she admitted.

“We aren’t turning our backs on you,” he told her, “no matter what you are. You should know that by now.” He reached out and gripped her hand tightly. “We’re always going to be here for you.”

Tabby remained silent, but no one else seemed to notice.

“Well sure,” Cole drawled, “but what about the Unseelie? They aren’t going to make it easy. They never do. We also have to suppose that Mavek has an elaborate plan in mind, a place for Arden within the hierarchy. He went through a lot of effort in order to turn her, after all. He wouldn’t have done so without considering what her station would be.”

Being a lower level fae would put Arden in danger, especially after what she’d done to the Erlking. And Victor. Twila couldn’t be the only one who was pissed off with her, and even though she and Brix were kind-of, sort-of friends, she wasn’t stupid enough to believe that he could keep her protected all the time, especially if he really had left with Krit.

Unless Mavek planned on locking her up in his manor, Arden didn’t quite see how he planned on keeping her safe for the rest of eternity.

“How is she supposed to find that out,” Eskel asked. “She can’t just walk up to Mavek and—”

“Why not?” Cole took a hefty bite of his now apple-free pizza. “The Midnight King wouldn’t hurt her.”

“Maybe those fake cakes were poisoned and they’ve messed with his brain,” Tabby leaned close to Arden and whispered, just loud enough to be sure the others could still hear her.

“What if I’m not ready to accept it yet?” Arden tried not to react to Tabby’s close proximity.

Cole met her gaze head on. “What if, by the time you are, it’s too late?”

“Too late for what?”

“We should be figuring out what type of fae you’re turning into, not how to stop it. Think about it, Arden, you’re safer with the sight. Wouldn’t you also be safer as an Unseelie? Wouldn’t we all?”

“Cole!” Tabby gasped.

“Are you suggesting we use Arden?” Eskel demanded, anger flashing in his eyes.

“I get what happened to us last week was terrifying,” Tabby added, “but this is really too much.”

“It’s the best way to protect all of us, including Arden,” Cole insisted. “Think about it. Logically, you all know I’m right. And it’s not like we’d treat her any different if she were fae. We’re all friends here. That isn’t going to change over something as tiny as that.”

“Tiny?” Tabby glared.

But Arden… part of Arden felt relieved.

Which was an altogether strange thing to feel in a situation like this, but she couldn’t help it. Her whole life she’d fought against what she was, and she was tired of it. If anything, these past few weeks had only made her more so. She’d been so caught up worrying over who’d stabbed her in that vision, what Mavek planned next, whether or not her friends would get hurt again because of her—she just wanted a break. She wanted to stop.

“You’re freaking her out.” Tabby wrapped an arm around Arden’s shoulders, pulling her in close.

Arden got to her feet, breaking free of Tabby’s hold fast enough that it jostled the other girl. She didn’t apologize. Instead, she crossed her arms and nibbled on her bottom lip, considering Cole’s suggestion.

“You don’t have to decide on anything right now,” Eskel told her, also rising so that he could stand next to her. “Take some time to think it over. Accepting there might really not be a cure… It’s a big step.”

“You can’t do that,” Tabby said. “You can’t lose hope, Arden. You’re the one who keeps saying there has to be a way.”

“Would you really hate me that much if I become one of them?” she asked, and the sudden tension in the room was palpable, but she couldn’t look away from Tabby.

“What?” She frowned. “Of course not. I’ll support you no matter what, but—”

“That’s not what you said at Howl’s,” Cole interjected, shrugging when they both gasped and turned on him. “I heard you leaving, Arden. I know you were there. How much of our conversation did you hear, and why haven’t you brought it up yet yourself?”

“You…” Tabby paled. “You were listening to that?”

“What’s going on?” Eskel glanced between them, annoyed at being the only one left in the dark. “Listened to what?”

“Tabby expressed how she really feels,” Arden said.

“That’s not…” She paused and shook her head, but struggled to come up with a decent excuse. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. It’s just, look, I care about you—”

“The human me.”

“Yes, but that’s who you are!” Tabby was close to tears now, frustration written across her face. “I’ve known you practically my whole life, and human is who you are. Forgive me for not wanting you to change into someone else, alright? That’s all I meant. I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You basically called me a monster.”

“You call the Unseelie monsters all the time,” she reminded Arden. “I’m not the only one who thinks of them that way.”

Arden flinched. The words stung, but she wasn’t wrong. They knew better than most what the fae were capable of––that they frequently did monstrous things. Of course she’d be afraid of losing Arden to the fae’s darker nature—hadn’t Arden expressed that same fear to Brix only a couple weeks ago? She had even gone so far as to make him promise to keep Eskel safe from her, if it came down to that. How could she ask her friends to trust her, if she wasn’t even capable of trusting herself?

“That’s enough,” Eskel interjected, moving closer to Arden. “I think you two should leave. Everyone’s really high-strung right now, we could all use some space to calm down.”

“Who put you in charge?” Tabby snapped, her burst of anger catching them all off guard. “You’ve known her the shortest amount of time, and the only reason you even bothered with her in the first place was because she knew things you didn’t.”

“You should stop while you’re ahead, cousin,” Cole said, having already collected their things during their argument. He placed a hand on the back of her shoulder and shoved her lightly toward the front door. “We’ll get going now. I’ll try to talk some sense into her.”

Tabby yanked away from his touch, fuming. “I’m not the bad guy here! I’m only saying what all of us are thinking.”

“I’m definitely not thinking what you’re thinking,” Eskel corrected.

“If that’s true, it’s only because you find this whole situation fascinating,” she accused. “I bet you’d love it if she changed into one of them because then you’d get more answers to all those damn faerie questions you’re always spouting!”

“Are you serious?” His voice hardened, but when he started toward Tabby, Arden stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Just go,” she said to Cole, knowing he would take his cousin with him. Somehow, this conversation had completely blown up in their faces, and Eskel had the right idea. They all needed to take a moment to cool down before more things were said that they’d later regret.

Tabby stormed out without another word, Cole close on her heels. At the doorway, he turned and bowed slightly before shutting it with a click, leaving the two of them alone.

“She’s just going through a lot right now,” Eskel said once they heard the sound of Cole’s car starting in the driveway. “She’s not thinking clearly. It’s all that stress and anxiety. Cole’s PTSD is more obvious, but maybe she’s suffering from it as well after what happened at the crowning.”

Arden moved into the kitchen, setting up a fresh pot of coffee. It was already dark out, but she needed to do something and it was never a bad time for a caffeine-fix. Sleep was already hard to come by with the nightmares she’d been having.

“Are you really considering Cole’s suggestion?” Eskel asked from where he now stood in the kitchen doorway. He propped his shoulder against the wall, watching her with an enigmatic expression as she grabbed a loaf of bread and started making toast. “We still have half a pizza left in the living room.”

“I just…” She pressed the lever down on the toaster, even though she wasn’t even remotely hungry. “I need a distraction. Give me a second.”

“Do you want me to go?” He took a step back and she shook her head.

“No, stay. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be,” he said. “Take all the time you need. You don’t owe me anything.”

She gave him a droll stare.

“Arden, it’s okay.”

“None of this feels okay.”

“I guarantee you Tabby feels just as awful right now as you do.”

“What about you?” He’d had some pretty harsh things shouted at him as well.

He thought it over for a moment, then, “Do you think I’m only interested in you because I’m curious to discover more about the fae?”

“Of course not,” she didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Then yeah,” he took a step into the kitchen and gave her a tired, half-smile, “I’m fine. She’ll cool down eventually. She’s just freaked out.”

“Aren’t we all?” She wanted to add that she was more so than the rest of them, considering it was her body going through all these changes, but bit her tongue. It wasn’t fair to compare their feelings. “I’m honestly just grateful you’ve all stuck around as long as you have.”

She’d been worried about her friends getting hurt. Maybe this fight with Tabby was a good thing. Maybe, after this, she’d finally listen to Arden and get out of Dodge.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Eskel said, and with a jolt she realized the coffee had finished and he’d poured her cup all while she’d been zoned out. “But it’s good having friends around, even if it’s dangerous. You need us.”

She took the offered mug, letting it heat her chilled hands. The thin sweater she was wearing did little to keep her warm. Turning, she cocked a hip against the countertop and lifted a brow. “Didn’t you tell me before you were a loner back in California?”

“Exactly,” he said, “that’s why I know better.”

“That’s…” she took a sip, “kind of sad.”

“Isn’t it?” He chuckled and moved to stand next to her, bumping their shoulders playfully. This close, Arden could see the outline of muscle beneath his shirt, her heart skipping a beat. “Another reason you should listen to me. It’s hard, but it’s still a lot easier with us around, and you know it. Wanting to keep your friends isn’t selfish, Arden.”

“I was sort of a loner too, you know,” she pointed out, smiling sadly. Though, she’d had one constant friend. “I feel like I’m going crazy. Ever since the Tithe, I haven’t been myself, and not just because of the whole physical change. I’m used to knowing what I want, but lately… I’m confused about everything. I hate this. I hate who I am right now.”

“You were betrayed by someone you’d placed a lot of trust in,” Eskel said. “It makes sense that you’re vulnerable right now. I get it.”

She glanced down, staring into the tan liquid, tendrils of steam drifting up to her face. “What if Tabby really can’t accept me? What if I lose her?”

He was quiet for a moment.

Arden wasn’t as much of a loner as Eskel claimed to be, but she didn’t exactly have a plethora of people she was close with. After her mother’s death, that number had dwindled down to a sad handful. Tabitha was the closest person she had, one of the few who remembered Arden’s father and what her life had been like before he’d died and her mom had lost her mind.

“Then you’ll still have me,” Eskel told her.

“Your brother was killed for loving an Unseelie,” she reminded him.

He scrunched up his nose. “I don’t think I’ve ever used the L word on you, Arden.”

She blanched but he merely laughed at her.

“I was joking, I know what you meant.” He sobered some. “Are you worried Mavek is going to hurt me if we get together?”

“Aren’t you?” Before, Arden had believed Mavek was different from the rest of his kind. The past couple of months had been eye-openers in many ways. She tried not to think about the deal he’d attempted to make with her, how he’d looked when he’d suggested she settle for both him and Eskel.

She shivered. It was a creepy proposition. But then, it made sense when she realized that Mavek saw Eskel as nothing more than a passing fancy for her. He probably assumed she’d grow tired of him. He might even hope that, like Tabby, Eskel wouldn’t be able to handle it if she really did turn fae. Hell, despite Eskel having told her point-blank he could over a dozen times now, she was only just starting to believe it.

“I’m sure he’ll try.” He shrugged. “But what’s life without a little risk?”

“That’s not funny.”

“That time it wasn’t a joke.” He twisted so that he was fully facing her, resting his arm behind her on the counter. Her palms grew sweaty. “Look, am I scared? Hell yeah, I’m not stupid. But the Unseelie have taken enough from me—from both of us. I like you, Arden, more than I’ve ever liked anyone before. And you like me. Why should we be the ones to run away?”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Are you saying you think Cole’s idea was right after all?”

He let out a slow breath. “I don’t know. That’s not really my call to make. But…”

“But?” she asked when his voice trailed off and he didn’t elaborate.

“I’m worried trying to figure out what type of fae you are will push you closer to Mavek,” he admitted in a rush, running a hand through his hair. His embarrassment was palpable. “Understanding why you still have feelings for the guy and sitting back while I know you’re with him are two different things.”

She knew she shouldn’t find that endearing, but the corner of her mouth tipped up. “Are you… jealous?”

For a moment, it didn’t look like he was going to respond, eyes wandering around the kitchen, looking everywhere but at her.

“Yeah,” he finally admitted, just when she thought her heart was about to explode from the tension. He exhaled loudly. “Yeah, I am.”

Arden opened her mouth, but the words died on her tongue because in the next instant a tingle shot up her spine. She froze, head swiveling toward the front door, hands already grabbing at Eskel to keep him still. She pressed a finger to her lips to silence him, straining her ears to try and hear. There hadn’t been any immediate noise, but she knew someone was outside her house. That unmistakable sensation hadn’t dissipated, the feeling only growing stronger.

“Unseelie,” she mouthed to Eskel, and then motioned for him to follow her. They headed down the hall to her bedroom as quietly as they could, the floorboards barely creaking beneath their weight. In her room, she tossed the pillow aside and pointed to the iron dagger hidden beneath it, moving to the window to peer out into the backyard while Eskel grabbed the dagger.

The silver dagger in her boot felt heavy when she removed it, wielding it in her hand. Chances were good it was nothing, just Cato lurking about as usual, or another one of Mavek’s spies. Perhaps it was a curious fae, come to catch a glance at the ex-Heartless. There were many possibilities that didn’t require Arden to take up arms in the confines of her own home.

And yet, she didn’t feel safe.

Whoever was out there, they meant to do her harm. She didn’t know how, just that there was a strange taste to the air––almost like overly ripe raspberries, just starting to rot. She made a mental note to bring that up with the others later—tasting danger—then stepped back from the window, letting the shade snap back into place.

“See anything?” Eskel whispered, and she shook her head in response.

“Was the front door locked?” she asked, thinking back to when Cole and Tabby had left. The lock attached to the doorknob worked automatically, so long as it was turned the right way. Try as she might, she couldn’t recall if she’d set it to manual lock after their arrival or not.

“Would that really make a difference?” he pointed out, and she was forced to admit it probably wouldn’t. The Unseelie were stronger than humans, and if one wanted to get into her house, locks wouldn’t be enough to keep them out.

“We should—”

Suddenly, something burst through the window, crashing straight through the blinds, ripping them right off the wall in the process. The glass shattered, bursting inward in a heavy gust. Arden felt a shard scrape across her right cheek and was only able take a single step toward Eskel before something slammed into her side.

They both hit the ground with a heavy thump.

Arden fought blindly with the assailant on top of her, struggling to get one of her knees between their bodies. Everything was moving so quickly that it was hard to focus, but a thick tendril of inky hair with shots of red slapped her face.

Twila.

She’d lost the silver dagger when she’d been hit, but she used one hand to search the ground while she held off her attacker with the other. Finally, she blinked into focus and caught the Unseelie’s throat, squeezing hard enough that the female started to gag.

That was when Arden realized that Twila was holding onto a shard of glass as long as her fingers, and that it was currently imbedded in Arden’s left shoulder. She hissed, sharp pain shooting through her limb, but managed to jam her knee upward into the Unseelie’s side.

Twila rolled away, forced to let go of the glass, and Arden quickly followed, swaying on her feet for half a second before regaining her balance. Blood was already running in rivulets down her arm, staining the carpet. Twila’s cohort had backed Eskel into a corner on the other side of the bed, where the only thing keeping the male faerie from attacking was the iron dagger Eskel held out in front of him. His hand was shaking slightly.

“If you think the Midnight King is going to save you this time,” Twila sneered, forcing Arden’s attention back on her, “you’re dead wrong. I made sure he was properly distracted before coming here. I won’t let you get away a second time.”

The silver dagger she’d dropped was only a few feet away, partly hidden beneath her dresser. If Arden could reach it, she’d have a better chance against Twila. She’d been getting stronger, but she regretted not having tested her limits. Too bad Cole hadn’t made his suggestion sooner. Knowing what she was and wasn’t capable of would have seriously come in handy.

Twila leapt for her then, at the same moment Eskel shouted out, “Salt shaker!”

Arden acted on instinct, tossing her hand out in the direction of the knife, eyes widening when it slid across the floor straight into her palm. She had just enough time to raise it in her defense before Twila was on her a second time. She stabbed upward, nicking the Unseelie’s side, but didn’t manage a fatal blow. Shoving with all of her strength, she tossed Twila away, watching as she hit the wall on the other side of the room hard enough to leave a dent in the plaster.

Eskel let out a cry and she turned to see the male faerie slip past his defenses, landing a punch that split his lip, spraying a bit of blood as his head whipped to the side. Fear clouding her senses, Arden rushed toward him but Twila was already there, blocking her path.

“He doesn’t have anything to do with this!” she cried, desperate to reach Eskel’s side.

“He was there, wasn’t he?” Twila disagreed.

A growl tore from her throat. Eskel had been unconscious when she’d killed Victor––he was in no way responsible for the events that transpired that night.

“Kill him,” Twila ordered her companion, and Arden saw red.

The room was small, not the best place for a fight, and Arden only had the one weapon. She knew she wouldn’t be able to make it past Twila in time to help Eskel. Instead, shifting on her feet, she switched the position of the dagger in her hand so that she now gripped the tip. Then she spun quickly, feinting right and Twila followed the motion, giving Arden a small window of space between her and her new target.

She sent the dagger sailing, feeling a slight burst of satisfaction when it pierced right between the male Unseelie’s shoulder blades. She gestured frantically at Eskel, whose eyes were wide and panicked.

“Use the iron!”

He was still gripping it in his hand, and as the fae before him staggered, he quickly slammed the blade forward, straight through his chest. Twila made an alarmed sound a second before the male burst into a pile of decaying leaves. Both daggers dropped to the ground with a metallic thud.

“No!” Twila screamed, eyes flashing with fury as she spun back on a now unarmed Arden. “He said we could do it! He said you wouldn’t be able to win! He promised!”

She frowned, her mind racing to catch up. “He who?”

Twila laughed, the sound maniac, and shook her head wildly. “You took out his ally and now he’s coming for you! Just you wait! He’s—”

One second she was talking, and the next her mouth was gaping open and her eyes were glazing over. Within a heartbeat, her body had disintegrated into a stack of twigs that clattered to the floor. Blinking in shock at what had once been the faerie, Arden tore her gaze up and met the glistening eyes of the Unseelie she’d seen at the start of Brix’s crowning. “You.”

He was standing directly behind where Twila’s body had been only a second ago. There was no weapon in his hand, but his fingers were curled.

The faerie hadn’t needed a weapon in order to murder the other; his hands were enough.

“You’ve met before?” Brix’s voice at her back had her spinning on her heels, almost tripping in the process. He filled up the doorway, slight frown painted across his face as he glanced between the two of them.

“Once,” the fae stated, dusting his hands off as if killing Twila was the same as taking out the kitchen garbage. Tedious, and slightly dirty. “Briefly.”

“Arden.” Eskel tried to take a step toward her but fell to the side instead, knocking the lamp off the nightstand. The bulb cracked and added to the scatter of broken glass. She started to move toward him, but Brix beat her to it. The faerie banded an arm tightly around his waist, pulling his arm over his shoulders to better support him, as if Eskel’s bulky body weighed no more than a feather.

“He needs to sit down. We should move to the living room.”

Arden nodded and stepped out of the way as Brix tried to move past, watching as they disappeared around the corner and down the hall. Her limbs felt like lead, weighing her down as the remaining fae stepped up beside her.

“You’re bleeding rather profusely,” he pointed out, and she glanced down at her arm. There was a small puddle forming at her feet.

“Who are you again?”

He considered her carefully. “I believe the proper thing to do is thank me for my help.”

“You’ll forgive me for skipping propriety and going straight for self-preservation,” she said. “For all I know, you’re a bigger threat than they were.”

He grinned at her, dark blue eyes alighting. “I can’t blame you for that. I’m Krit’s newly appointed right-hand. You may or may not be seeing a lot of me.”

She wasn’t quite sure how to take that, but she also wasn’t willing to leave Eskel alone with an Unseelie—even one she knew—so she left the issue alone. Uncomfortable though she was with turning her back to a stranger, she figured if he’d wanted to kill her he could have just left Twila to do the job.

Eskel was seated in the center of the couch, pressing a folded hand towel to his lip. Blood soaked through the white fabric. She could see a large lump starting to form where his skull had rebounded off the wall from the faerie’s punch. When she bent down to try and catch his eyes, his vision seemed cloudy.

“I don’t think you’re okay,” she said, wincing as she straightened and the tight material of her sweater tugged at her shoulder wound. She swayed and the unnamed Unseelie caught her.

“You’re lucky we came by,” Brix told her, standing close to Eskel. His brow was furrowed and she would have laughed at how worried he looked if she hadn’t felt so dizzy.

“Guess I’m still not strong enough to take on a few fae on my own, huh?” She tapped at the other faerie’s hands, which were still helping to hold her up. “Let go, I’m alright.”

“You’re definitely not,” he disagreed.

“Why are you two here anyway?”

Brix shared a look with the guy and cleared his throat. “I was on my way to say goodbye when I overheard the Crown Prince is in town.”

Had Krit not told him as much? Wasn’t that why he’d agreed to leave with him in the first place? At her look of confusion, he grunted. “I was not informed. If I had been, I would have come to deliver my warning sooner.”

“What warning?” Suddenly, Twila felt like the least of her concerns.

“If he’s here, the Crown Prince is probably very interested in you,” he told her. “Not many know this but Herla was his spy in this world. From what I understand, the Crown Prince fought hard to get him reinstated and waived as the Tithe offering. He wasn’t pleased when he was met with resistance and the rest of the council accepted the Erlking.”

“As far as choices went,” the other faerie told her, “you picked a good one. Herla came with eight souls—not perfect, but still seven more than the Underground would have received had a regular Tithe been sent.”

“As his sole link to what we do here,” Brix added, “the Crown Prince will not be as grateful as the rest of his people. If Krit had informed me sooner, I would have been able to warn both you and Mavek. If he really is here, Finch’s goal isn’t satiating mere curiosity.”

“I took out his ally,” she mumbled, thinking back on Twila’s words.

“Exactly. He’ll be looking for a new one, but I doubt he plans on leaving you alone in the meantime. More than likely, he’s out for revenge. There’s rumor of unrest in the Underworld due to all of this, and Finch isn’t on the winning side.”

“Perfect.” There was a lot more that she had to say and ask, but almost as soon she spoke, the room started spinning and before she could do more, she passed out.

“Shut up,” the words slipped past Arden’s lips, barely audible. She shifted her head against the soft pillow beneath her, trying desperately to float back into blissful unconsciousness. She was so tired; she just wanted to sleep. Whoever was pounding the door right now needed to be quiet. Immediately.

She couldn’t make out what the person was saying—persons, actually, now that she was awake enough to notice—but she didn’t care. It was too early for this nonsense, and for the first time in weeks she’d been sleeping peacefully.

“Silence them,” a deep voice commanded from within the room. Close. When he didn’t get an instant response, he added more firmly, “If you didn’t want to continue following orders, you should have accepted what I offered you, instead of passing it off to the Lutin. And don’t think I’m unaware that this is partially his fault.”

“If he hadn’t shown up,” came the reply, “she’d be in an even worse state than she currently is.”

Cato—she recognized that smooth timbre now. She heard the swish of the door opening and then more shouts before it closed once more. Arden blinked her eyes open, sucking in a sharp breath at the florescent lights directly above her. She tried lifting her arm to block the light, but pain instantly assaulted her and she ended up gasping all over again. Hands pressed against her uninjured shoulder, pinning her back to the mattress when she would have struggled upright.

The smell hit her first, so she was already prepared when she turned her head and met Mavek’s hazel eyes. His face hovered a mere few inches from hers, and he kept himself bent over the side of the bed, as if afraid she was going to try sitting up a second time.

She’d stupidly thought she was in her bedroom back home, but now that she was fully awake, she realized with a start that it was actually a private hospital room. Shockingly white, the room had a sterile feel to it, and Arden squirmed under the hospital sheet that had been placed over her. The door off to the right was closed, and they were the only two there.

“Twila—”

“Dead,” he reassured her, moving to settle on the edge of the bed. His thumb started smoothing semi-circles over her collarbone, a poor attempt to comfort. “You suffered from blood loss and passed out. The doctor’s already patched you up and you’re on painkillers, but if you move too quickly you’ll pull at the stitches and it’ll hurt.”

“Eskel.” She remembered the blood at the corner of his mouth and the lump at his temple.

Mavek’s mouth thinned but he said, “He has a mild concussion. He’ll live.”

“Where is he?” And why was Mavek here instead?

“That was him who woke you,” Mavek told her. “He was pounding at the door and refused to go quietly. I sent Cato out to make him. He’s fine. You know the Puck wouldn’t do something to seriously upset you.”

Was that a thing that she knew? Cato was… hard to predict. They all were.

“The rest of your friends are here as well.”

“Even Tabby?” she asked, wincing afterward. A dumb thing to ask him.

He cocked his head. “Is there a reason she wouldn’t be? You’re hospitalized, Arden. That’s serious.”

“You said it was a little blood loss and I’m fine now,” she reminded him, finally reaching to shove at the arm he was using to keep her down. “At least help me up if you’re going to be like this.”

“Like what?” he seemed legitimately curious, but he complied, shifting so he could press a button on the remote control set on the nightstand. The head of the bed started to lift, so that she was in an upright position in a matter of seconds. She sighed, briefly closing her eyes as she fought against the ache in her left shoulder. The hospital gown she was in covered the injury, but she could make out the top of a bandage, a reminder that she’d been stabbed pretty deeply with that glass.

“Damn. I’m going to have to get that window fixed now.” Did she even have the funds for that? Working at Howl Books didn’t exactly pay much.

“You won’t be going back there.” Mavek stared at her, silently daring her to argue.

“I live there,” she managed dumbly, annoyed to discover that the medicine they’d given her was making her head feel fuzzy. That small burst of adrenaline she’d felt when she’d woken up had already faded.

“You can move into the manor, or your childhood home,” he said. “I’ll let you pick.”

“You’re not listening,” she practically growled, done with the argument even though they’d only just gotten started. “I wouldn’t move in with you before I found out you were a lying asshole, I’m definitely not moving in with you now.”

“Arden—”

“I’m exhausted,” she stopped him, closing her eyes again even though a part of her yearned to study his every move––to know what he planned on doing next. The rest of her, however, admitted that there was a certain level of comfort having him here. Twila and her friend might have been dealt with already, but others were still out there, she was certain, who’d pick up where the two had left off. “Just let this go and stay still.”

He was so quiet that she actually feared he’d left, about to force her eyes open one last time when he finally spoke and she didn’t have to.

“You aren’t telling me to leave you,” he sounded slightly bewildered, but she didn’t have the energy to deal with that either.

“You made everyone else go,” she reminded him, resting her head more firmly against the pillow. She felt better now that she wasn’t lying down; safer, more in control, despite knowing that was a false sense of security. “I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Liar.”

His statement had her opening her eyes again.

“No one can protect you like I can,” he continued. “No one wants to as badly as I do.”

She opened her mouth to argue—though for all she knew he was right—yet couldn’t manage a single word. He dropped his right arm around her hip, leaning so that he was caging her in without getting too close. “Don’t tell me that boy does; you can’t compare what the two of us feel, even if he’s fallen in love with you.”

Eskel wasn’t in love with her. She didn’t get to voice that either though, since Mavek wasn’t done talking.

“What he’s trying to keep safe is a dream––the possibility of something more that might last a decade or two. I’m protecting an eternity. Half a century could never compare to forever, Arden. You can’t deny which of us is more committed.”

“Eskel’s never risked losing me by forcing his wishes without my consent,” she pointed out.

“Are you back to that again?”

“If you can be a broken record, so can I.”

“Should we settle some things then, heart? We’re both stuck here for the time being, after all.”

She cocked her head. “Are we?” If she thought for even a second that talking would actually get them anywhere, she’d agree. As it was…

“Tell me about what happened tonight instead,” she told him. “Twila was after me because of Victor, but it was obvious someone sent her. Brix mentioned it might be that crown prince you’re all talking about?”

“I had no idea there was a connection between Finch and the Erlking,” he admitted. “Krit failed to mention it. If not for Brix’s knowledge, we’d still be in the dark about that. This is why I don’t want you left alone, even with Twila out of the way. She was a minor threat compared to what the Crown Prince could be. If he’s looking for revenge, there are very few safe places left for you. With me is one of them.”

This wasn’t the first time she’d been told that Mavek was one of the few that could possibly stand against the prince and survive. And also not for the first time, she wondered just how powerful he truly was, and why he’d bowed down to the Erlking and Titania this long if he was that strong. The ranking system was confusing, although she understood that they’d each been given separate territories to rule over––but when she’d stopped to analyze it, Mavek had really taken a slight step back to make room for the other two regents. Her brow furrowed.

“Could Titania stand against him?” she asked, watching when he blinked in surprise.

“Why? Are you planning to ask the Unseelie Queen for help instead?”

She shook her head, the movement aggravating her migraine. “I’m just curious.”

He stared for another moment, as if maybe he didn’t believe her, and then sighed. “Probably not.”

“Then, why did you listen to her? Why weren’t you placed above her in rank from the beginning?”

“Are you trying to deduce if this is another trick?” he asked. “Perhaps you think I’m using this as an excuse to manipulate you back to me?”

That’d only partially been the case, but… “Are you?”

He grunted. “I won’t deny I’m using it to my advantage, but no. I’m not lying about this. I wouldn’t play with your safety, heart. The truth is, when we first arrived from the Underground, I wasn’t as strong as I am now. That was centuries ago, and I’m quite a bit younger than either Titania or the Erlking. Strength for our kind doesn’t come with age. I surpassed them both, but had to wait until one was removed from their position in order to claim a higher station for myself.”

Which is what had happened when the two of them had tossed the Erlking to the Underground.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, scanning her face. “I can see the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours. But when I move up in the world, we both do. I was able to help your friend Cole out during the crowning, remember? Titania would not have let either of you go so easily if I hadn’t been there ordering her to do so. I can protect you, Arden. From anything. Even from the Crown Prince if I have to. All you have to do is let me.”

She chuckled before she could help it, the sound bitter even to her own ears. “Let you?”

There was no way she was going to be leaving her house any time soon, especially not to go to one of the places he owned. He walked in on her enough as it was, and as much as she hated to admit it, she still got flustered every time that happened.

“So, Krit knew that the Erlking and this Finch guy were close?” she asked. This was an opportunity to gain information that would help her keep herself safe. She needed to take it, instead of getting caught up in her anger toward the Midnight King. “Why didn’t he tell us the other night?”

Mavek ground his teeth. “I wondered the same thing, but he was already gone when I went searching for him to find out. He took the Lutin with him. It’s unclear when, or if, they’ll return.”

“The Goblin Market—”

“Gone as well.”

Then chances were good that she wouldn’t be seeing Brix again for a while. Strange, she actually felt a pang of sadness. They hadn’t even gotten to exchange a proper goodbye. The Lutin had sort of swept in and out of her life.

“Krit owes me a favor,” Mavek continued, “and I do not count his warning about the Crown Prince’s whereabouts as equal exchange. He should have told us the whole story.”

“Don’t you have connections with the Underground?” She’d never stopped to ponder over whether or not the Midnight King still had friends or family back in the realm he’d come from.

He shook his head. “I cut ties as soon as I was able to. Though, I can see now why keeping a few spies would have been beneficial.”

“You didn’t think you’d have to worry about what went on there,” she guessed, and he grunted, a half-smirk lifting the corner of his lips. “You really never considered going back?”

“Why would I?” He held her gaze pointedly. “Everything I want is here.”

Arden glanced away, swallowing the lump in her throat, his words affecting her more deeply than she’d like. She’d just been attacked and injured—sitting here, listening to him go on about how they should be together, was the last thing she should be doing. She needed to end this conversation and check on Eskel herself, make sure that he really was alright.

Then there was Tabby. If she’d come to the hospital, there was a chance the two of them could have a real talk, without yelling or arguing. She hoped so anyway, since she really couldn’t stomach the idea of truly losing her friend.

Yet another incident that would be partially Mavek’s fault. She thought back to how she’d felt when she’d discovered that the real reason Cole had broken up with her and left was because Mavek had threatened him. This situation with Tabby was sort of similar in the sense that, while the root was Mavek, the final decision belonged to them. Cole could have told the truth before he’d fled, and Tabby…

It all came down to choice. Free will meant everyone was always at least a little bit to blame. Including Arden.

“You were right,” she said, fingers tightening around the thin material of the hospital sheet sprawled over her legs, “before. I do blind myself to reality sometimes. I wanted so desperately to believe there was a way to break my family’s curse, I only briefly considered the Tithe was a setup. And even though I knew what you are, always knew, I couldn’t stop myself from wishing there was a way to have more.”

None of that excused him for what he’d done, but he hadn’t made her fall in love with him. From the sound of it, that’d never been in either of their plans. She was the one who’d been unable to separate reality from fantasy, allowing herself to get so caught up in his support and kindness that eventually what he was had no longer mattered.

But she’d always known on some level that the two of them were impossible. Not only was he immortal, Mavek was also a powerful being while she was a mere college freshman. The two of them didn’t fit––logic had told her that––but she’d been unable to control her emotions. When he’d told her that there was a way for the two of them to be together after all, she hadn’t questioned it––she’d allowed herself to hope, not considering what that path might entail.

Not caring. As long as in the end they could be together.

How much of what was happening now was actually her fault? How much responsibility did she have to take before she could start trusting herself, and others, again? Second guessing everything, not knowing what she wanted, hating herself for her feelings… She couldn’t live like this forever. Especially not if forever really meant forever.

“You were only human, Arden,” he told her when she’d grown quiet for too long.

“And you took advantage of that.” She’d fallen right into his trap, sure, but he’d still been the one to set the snare. “Now, you want me to just up and forgive you for making me feel stupid and naïve. For making me lose even more than I already have.”

He frowned at her, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Tabby is already afraid of me,” she said, air sputtering out of her as tears threatened to spill. “I haven’t even fully changed yet, haven’t done anything in front of her to show her the changes I’ve already undergone, but I heard her say….” She swallowed, struggling to repeat it out loud, even though she’d already told Eskel. Maybe because she understood the hypocrisy in telling it to Mavek. Hadn’t she thrown the exact same insult at him the day after the Tithe?

“She called me a monster.” Sort of, close enough. That’s certainly what Tabby had been hinting at, and Arden had felt it, the weight to those words. The truth behind them. As badly as she wanted to, she hadn’t been able to blind herself to reality.

“My best friend thinks I’m turning into something ugly.” She stared at him head on, tears blurring her vision. “You did that.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” he disagreed. “I always have. What Tabitha feels is up to her. If she can’t look past you being Unseelie, that’s no fault of mine.” He paused, then added comfortingly, “Or yours. As you’ve just said, heart, you were able to love me despite knowing what I am. Why can’t she do the same? Her inability speaks more to her character than to yours.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her head back against the headboard. A couple tears slipped past her defenses and rolled slowly down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother brushing them away or trying to hide them.

“I’m just so tired, Mavek,” she whispered. “It’s only been a month, and I’m already so tired.”

“I know, heart.” The bed springs creaked as he shifted closer, so she was prepared when his fingers ghosted across her left jaw line. When he lightly gripped her chin, tipping her head up, she opened her eyes. His lips hovered only a few inches away.

The hospital door flung open with such force that Arden started, body going alert as flashes of Twila and the other attacking fae rushed through her mind. Instead of another threat, Eskel stood in the doorway, out of breath and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, a wrinkled hospital gown thrown haphazardly on. His cheeks were stained pink, and it was easy to guess that he’d been running from Cato. He looked furious until he processed how close the two of them were inside the room. Then his brow furrowed and he straightened some.

Arden expected his expression to be accusatory, but when he finally met her gaze, he just looked sad.

“It seems you’ve managed to slip Cato,” Mavek was the first to speak, moving so that he could perch on the edge of the bed once more. He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head, inspecting Eskel. “I’m impressed.”

“Didn’t do it to impress you,” Eskel bit out, but he didn’t move farther into the room.

Mavek chuckled. “We’ve never been properly introduced, have we? You’re Arden’s human.” He grinned, his smile unnaturally wide. “I’m Arden’s Unseelie. Perhaps we should try to get to know one another, since I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the times to come.”

“That’s a hard pass,” he replied. “I already know more about you than I’d like.”

“Arden talks about me, I see.”

Eskel stiffened, but didn’t bother to correct him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, trying to move from the bed and stand.

Mavek leaned back, dropping his hands to the bed on the other side of her legs, effectively locking her in place. She could no longer see his expression, but when Eskel’s eyes darkened, she was certain it was because Mavek was grinning all over again. Pressing a palm against his shoulder, she shoved, but he didn’t so much as budge.

“You used all your strength earlier,” he explained when she made a noise of frustration. “You’re little better than a regular human at the moment, heart. It’ll be best for everyone if you just rest.”

Eskel took a single step into the room, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

“Oh, are you going to try to fight for her?” Mavek seemed to like that idea, even motioning him closer with a lift of his chin. “Come, try it. I have energy myself to expel, and teaching you your place seems the perfect way to do so.”

“Stop.” Arden shook her head at Eskel and pressed harder against Mavek, even though she was unable to do anything in her current state. “Stop acting like a child.”

His dark brows lifted and he turned his head to her. Cato chose that moment to make his appearance, twisting around the doorway so fast he almost slammed into Eskel. Catching himself at the last second, his wide eyes apologetically sought out Mavek’s.

“The other two distracted me,” he said by way of explanation.

“It was a group effort,” Eskel clarified. Did he feel bad for Cato? Perhaps he didn’t want to see the faerie get in trouble because of him. Eskel was like that. Arden almost smiled.

“How… cute,” Mavek drawled, and she couldn’t tell if it was for lack of a better thing to say or because he genuinely meant it.

The smell of the hospital room and the bright lights were starting to irritate her senses, not to mention the tension that filled the small space now from the three males. Their conversation from before was clearly over—she refused to talk about her feelings for Mavek, past or present, in front of Eskel—and this was turning precarious. She needed to get them to leave, or at the very least, the fae.

“And so ends Arden’s great struggle to keep us apart,” Mavek asserted then, and she could practically hear the smile in his tone. She bristled but held her tongue, even when Eskel’s frown deepened. Though they’d been in the same place during the Tithe, the two of them had never spoken to one another.

“Didn’t you know?” Mavek clucked his tongue. “My heart’s greatest hope has been that you and I never meet face to face like this.”

“That isn’t her greatest hope and you know it,” Eskel said sharply.

“You’re referring to her wish to remain human.” He sighed, bored. “How disappointing. I had hoped you’d at least show me something to explain why she’s so stuck on you. Your pretty face I understand, but you hardly seem worth all the trouble if that’s the best your mouth can do.”

Behind Eskel, Cato shifted a bit, but Arden might have been the only one to notice; the other two were too busy staring each other down. She’d caught that note of warning in Mavek’s voice. He might not sound upset, but he couldn’t be pleased that the two of them were interrupted, or that Eskel was here after he’d ordered him away. She gnawed at her bottom lip. She had to do something to protect Eskel before he did something to really piss the Unseelie off.

“Hmm,” Mavek hemmed and turned to look at her, though his words were still meant for Eskel when he said, “Although, I suppose Arden can divulge which of us has the better mouth, isn’t that right?”

She sucked in a breath, a rush of indignation, mortification, and anger flooding through her so fast her head spun. Weak and trapped, she merely hissed, unable to lash out at him.

“You’re taking things too far,” she stated darkly, but he only chuckled.

“I could kiss him too,” Mavek suggested, “see what all the fuss is about.”

Eskel made a face of disgust at that.

“Oh, not like your brother? Disappointing.”

“Don’t talk about Everett.”

“I met him, did you know?” Lazily, he leaned even farther back on his propped arms, muscles rippling, crossing his ankles before him. “The Erlking brought him to one of my revelries, weeks before the Tithe. I watched him wander off into the rose garden with Brix trotting at his heels like a smitten kitten.”

“So, you’re saying it’s in your nature to chase after people who aren’t interested,” Eskel drawled, even though he had to know he was wrong. It was no secret that Everett returned Brix’s feelings.

Mavek didn’t seem the least bit offended by that assessment, however. “No, I’m telling you that it’s in my nature to hunt the things I want. Relentlessly. You can either make yourself my obstacle, Eskel Montgomery, or you can make yourself my friend. The choice is completely yours. Ironically, Arden and I were just discussing the merits of choice before you so rudely barged in here.”

Arden only heard the first part of his comment, mind blanking out like TV static the second he’d suggested Eskel become his ally. When he’d mentioned the crazy idea to her, she’d been surprised, but this… She could only be glad that he’d had the decency to word it differently this time around.

“Are you…” Eskel seemed to be struggling as well, “hitting on me?”

“Don’t misunderstand,” he said. “It’s purely for Arden’s benefit. There’s a lot I’m willing to do if it’s in her best interests.” The suggestiveness was impossible to miss.

“Oh my god, stop!” She held up her hands and waved them frantically. “Seriously, stop. Right now. And never say anything like that again, ever.”

Mavek tilted his head. “Are you reacting this way out of jealousy, or because you haven’t yet told him that I made the same suggestion to you weeks ago?”

This certainly wasn’t the time for mortification—not when she should be feeling loads of other emotions, like anger and possibly even fear—but in that moment, Arden wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up beneath her and swallow her whole. It took her a few seconds to be able to glance Eskel’s way, and she flinched when she found he was already watching her, lips pursed in further confusion.

“He what?” he blurted as soon as he had her attention and she covered her face with her hands and groaned.

Heat coursed its way up her neck and into her cheeks, warm beneath her hands.

“Now who’s acting like a child?” Mavek taunted, reaching up to tug lightly at her wrists, forcing them down into her lap. He kept his fingers wrapped around them, palm pressing down with just enough pressure to keep her from pulling away.

Eskel moved across the room faster than either of them anticipated, grabbing at Mavek’s jacket. Before he could tug, though, Cato was pulling him back, practically dragging him until they were at the doorway once more. He kept his hold on Eskel, panic bright in his gray eyes as he waited for his king’s reaction.

“That was unwise,” Mavek said tersely after a painfully long bout of silence.

“You instigated,” she told Mavek, her displeasure clear. “Of course he was going to react. It’s what you wanted.”

“Did I?” He lifted a brow, waiting for a response.

Truthfully, she had no idea. She agreed Eskel’s move had been stupid; that didn’t mean she’d scold him for it in front of the Unseelie. She had to protect him in any way that she could. “Why else would you say all of that stuff?”

He grunted. “You realize that I meant every word, or, should I repeat them?”

“No!” Instinctively, she twisted her hands around beneath his, gripping him back tightly.

Mavek stared down at where she held him, features settling into something almost akin to softness. When he looked up again, however, his steely resolve had returned. “If your human does anything like that again, I won’t be held responsible for my actions, Arden.”

She shook her head, but he didn’t bother letting her speak.

“You’ve both been warned.” He turned to Eskel. “My patience only stretches so far.”

Cato cleared his throat, momentarily distracting them long enough to say, “Brix left a message.”

“What message?” Mavek asked.

He licked his lips. “It’s for Arden. He said to remember that talk you had, and the promise you made him make.”

“What promise?” Mavek wasn’t pleased by that prospect.

She had to think back on it for a bit before she could recall. He’d promised to help keep Eskel safe. Why was he bringing that up? Because the two of them had been attacked? He’d made his stance on their relationship clear numerous times before. Of course his parting words would be a reminder of that.

“There’s more,” Cato continued. “Apparently Twila was urged by the Crown Prince to attack you. He must have promised that he’d protect her against the Midnight King. But it wasn’t what it seemed. Brix doesn’t believe your death is Finch’s current goal.”

“Then why bother?”

“It was a test,” Mavek figured. “He wanted to see your strength for himself.”

“He wasn’t even there,” she pointed out.

“There may have been a spy watching nearby,” he told her, “or perhaps he was there, and you just didn’t realize. There’s no way to be certain.”

“Why would the Crown Prince of the Underground care about Arden?” Eskel asked.

Instead of shooting back some sarcastic retort, Mavek answered truthfully. “If he’s looking for a new ally, he must know that I won’t accept the position. Rumor is his younger brother is in the process of taking his throne, so there’s a chance he’s hoping to establish himself here. There’s also the chance that he plans on using Arden against me later, in order to gain my help. Or perhaps I’m giving him too much credit and this is all purely about revenge.”

Taking Herla out was what had allowed the Crown Prince’s brother an opening to rise against him, Arden put together. It made sense Finch would be angry.

“Take into consideration that it’s been a long time since a regent turned a human,” Cato added. “He would want to see for himself what’s special enough about her to attract your interest.”

“Sounds familiar,” Eskel murmured, glaring right back when Mavek shot him a dark look. It was indeed similar to what the Midnight King had been doing only a moment prior––feel Eskel out to try and understand what Arden saw in him.

“Okay,” there was really only one thing she cared about here, “am I safe though? I mean, he didn’t attack me himself, and I’ve never seen the guy around.”

“You don’t even know what he looks like,” Cato reminded her.

“Sure, but I know a scary, dark fae when I see one. And what about Titania?”

Mavek frowned. “What about her?”

“If Finch is looking for allies, and you’re a no-go, doesn’t that pretty much leave her? Is he going to approach her?”

“It won’t affect us even if he does,” he said. “The Erlking was his spy for centuries, and it didn’t change anything for me or my people. The only thing the Crown Prince cares about is the workings of the Underground. He most likely kept ties with Herla in case he’d one day need someone to help him overthrow the king. If he can convince Titania to aid him, then he’ll use her and her people for this task.”

“As in, he’ll have them return to the Underground to help stage a coup?” Seemed unlikely, considering the lengths Titania’s fae went through every seven years in order to remain here among humans.

“We should hope she chooses to go with him,” Cato drawled. “Take care of two of our problems at once.” He’d never cared much for the Faerie Queen.

“For now, we should focus on keeping you safe from further attack,” Mavek suggested, eyes narrowing at Cato momentarily before setting his attention back on Arden. “You weren’t able to properly defend yourself against Twila because you were too concerned with keeping the human boy safe. In the future, I advise you to worry solely about yourself.”

“So if we were in that situation, that’s what you’d do?” She realized her mistake a second too late.

His grip tightened on her hands, almost pinching, and she actually had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound of alarm. “Do not compare what I feel for you to your murky emotions for that mortal.”

Eskel chuckled, rocking back on his heels casually when Mavek glared his way. It was a bold move. A stupid move.

“What, can’t handle that she has feelings for someone else?”

It took Arden a moment to process his words, since it’d been a while since she’d heard that side of Eskel. He’d been so good to her recently––so careful with his words and keeping a light and positive attitude, she’d almost forgotten that he was also the bold idiot who’d trekked across the country in search of ghosts. Knowing what Mavek was capable of should have made him more cautious. Instead, he was doing nothing to mask his hatred. She wondered if it was really because of her, or because of his brother. She’d been the one to take out the Erlking; Eskel had never really gotten closure.

“Don’t.” Predicting his next move, Arden grabbed Mavek’s arm before he could get up. His body was rigid, a sign that he was about to lose his patience. “I’m injured, remember? That’s why we’re here. I don’t have the energy to deal with the two of you going at each other, so can we just stop it already?”

Eskel looked a bit hurt, but he quickly smoothed his features into a neutral expression. She wanted to explain that she was on his side, but she’d meant what she’d said. Already, she felt like she could pass out at any moment, her head spinning slightly.

“You don’t need to stay overnight.” Collecting himself, Mavek looked at her. “I’ve already handled the paperwork, so we can leave as soon as you’re done with this IV.”

Arden blinked down at her arm. She hadn’t even noticed it.

“Which will it be? The Manor or your childhood home?”

“She’s coming with me,” Eskel stated, jaw clenching when the Midnight King laughed scornfully.

“I don’t believe you’re allowed to have persons of the opposite sex spend the night in your—” he chuckled, “—dorm room.”

Eskel’s cheeks tinted red, but his voice was firm when he replied. “I’ll sneak her in. It’ll still be better than going anywhere with you.”

“I can keep her safe.”

“Sure, from everything else. But who’s going to keep her safe from you?”

“I would never harm her.”

“You already have.” Eskel shook his head, refusing to back down. “That’s the problem with you fae. You can’t think from a human perspective, can’t see that the things you do are damaging and wrong.”

“Have you forgotten that Arden will soon be one of us?” Mavek asked, trying to break through Eskel’s sudden steely resolve.

“That doesn’t matter,” he said. “She won’t be like the rest of you. Arden was born a human and lived as a human. She’ll always have a human mind and a human heart. You can change other things about her––make her faster and stronger––but you’ll never be able to change who she is. I bet that eats you up inside, doesn’t it? Because, despite all your bluster, deep down you know she’s never going to forgive you.”

Mavek moved faster than they could blink. One second he was next to Arden, his arm held tightly in her grip, the next he was across the room with his hand wrapped around Eskel’s throat. He had him pinned to the wall, expression dark and serious, and though he was squeezing, he was still exercising restraint. If he hadn’t, Eskel would already be dead.

Cato was there a second later, trying desperately to tug his king away, risking himself in the process. He managed to slide Mavek half a step back before he was shaken off, landing on the floor with a resounding thud.

“Stop!” Arden haphazardly struggled out of bed, tripping over the side and tumbling. The IV tugged at her arm painfully and she cried out, catching herself before she could do any real damage. She had her fingers pressed over where the needle was inserted into her arm when strong arms banded around her from behind.

Mavek held her close, dropping his cheek to the top of her head. “I’m sorry, Arden. I’m sorry.” He sounded oddly sincere, pressing his chest against her back almost desperately. “I didn’t mean to hurt your mortal. I lost my temper.”

She opened her mouth, almost repeating what she’d said to him earlier––only this time in reverse. Almost said that Eskel had instigated the confrontation—as if that would somehow excuse choking him. Like that would make what he’d just done okay.

When would the instinct to excuse Mavek’s actions go away? And more importantly, how many other horrible things had he done in the past that she’d so easily excused or even dismissed? Even now, part of her wanted to hug him back, comfort him. It was rare to see him disgruntled.

The only real thing that kept her from doing it––from just giving into her urges––was Eskel. His feelings were more important to her than comforting the Unseelie king over his monstrous misdeeds. Maybe that was progress. Maybe she really was crazy.

She licked her lips and swallowed to wet her dry throat before calling, “Eskel?”

“He’s alright,” Cato was the one to answer, “just some bruising.”

She wanted to turn to see for herself, but Mavek kept her from doing so. “Are you afraid of how I’ll react when I see?” she asked him, keeping her voice low in some semblance of privacy.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your mortal,” he repeated in that same tone as before. Guiltily, almost.

“You know,” she sounded deadpan even to her own ears, “this is more remorse than you showed for Tabby. You almost killed her, and gave no reaction whatsoever when I confronted you about it.”

“She wouldn’t have died,” he disagreed. “She would have lived a while longer in the Underground, at court. We don’t butcher children, Arden.”

“Gotta draw the line somewhere, huh?”

His arms tightened. “I apologized for Tabitha.”

“You didn’t mean it.” He meant it now though, she could tell. He was legitimately sorry for hurting Eskel. “What’s different this time?”

He sighed against her hair. “I am aware that sins pile up, and that there is a certain point of no return. I don’t want to harm the people you care about, Arden, that’s never been my intention, even when it was necessary. You know as well as I that Tabitha was not my doing.”

She wanted to argue that fact but… he was right. Tabby had been there because Cole had been an idiot and gotten himself trapped by the Unseelie and involved with the Erlking.

“You could have done something,” she stubbornly insisted. “Tried to stop it.”

“Logically, you know that isn’t true. You’re thinking with your heart.” He grew quiet a moment, then added, “With your human heart.”

She couldn’t tell if it was a jab at what Eskel had said, or a reference to their argument before Krit had interrupted. She’d tried—and failed—since then to get his words out of her head. She didn’t need new ones added to the already torturous number.

In the past, she’d never cared what others thought––had stopped at a young age when the kids on the playground made fun of her for being crazy and talking about the Unseen. She was known as the girl who saw things others couldn’t and was ostracized for it. And that had been fine.

But hearing things like that spoken from the people she cared about…

“There’s nothing wrong with being human,” she said.

“Humans are weak,” he disagreed. “They’re fragile, break easily, and live short lives. I’ve always been fascinated by how brightly they burn and burn out, and that’s not what I want for you, Arden. It’s not what I want for us. I can give you more than a speck of time and rapidly fading beauty.”

“I’ve told you that I don’t want—”

He grabbed her chin, tilting her head back and sealing his mouth against hers, effectively cutting her off. The kiss was rough, the angle somewhat awkward with him standing behind her, but it still managed to blindside her.

She let it go on far longer than she should have, only coming to her senses after she felt the tip of his tongue dance across the roof of her mouth. She was still too weak to really do much but she shoved at him anyway, glad that he got the point and ended the kiss.

“Come to the manor, Arden,” he whispered, fingers dancing down her jawline, his touch light enough that she began tipping her head against him without realizing. His eyes sparkled, flashing shots of gold and emerald, entrancing her momentarily.

She felt the sway, like velvet licking against her skin, and was so tempted to just give in. Really, she didn’t want to go back to her house alone. Didn’t want to try sleeping in that room with the broken window. Twila was gone, but the whole ordeal had shaken her and she knew she needed sleep in order to heal. She couldn’t let fear prevent her from that.

With a start, she realized she wanted to give in. Accepting the sway would just be an excuse, a reason to not feel guilty about it.

“Arden.”

“No.” She forced herself to grab onto his wrist, and inhaled deeply. “No, I’m not going to do that.”

His eyes narrowed. “You can’t sneak into a college dorm room.”

“She can stay with me.”

The new voice jarred them both, their heads whipping toward the doorway, eyes widening on Tabby.

She and Cole were both there, watching from the hall. For a moment, Arden was sure she’d misheard, but then Tabby crossed her arms and mustered up a glare, which she set on the Midnight King.

“Arden is staying with me tonight,” she announced, unable to keep the note of fear from her voice. Tabby didn’t like being so close to Mavek, yet she stood her ground.

“Aren’t the two of you arguing?” he asked, tipping his head, hand dropping to the small of Arden’s back possessively.

“Best friends fight,” she shrugged. “Then they get over it.”

Arden almost cried, but Mavek effectively ruined the moment by grunting.

“That’s what I keep trying to explain to my heart,” he said, then finally took a step back, dropping his arm. He smiled softly at Arden. “Cato will accompany you to Tabitha’s. I trust this means all is forgiven in regards to the boy.”

She almost laughed in disbelief. He wanted her to give him a pass for hurting Eskel because he was letting her go to Tabby’s?

“It’s my life,” she told him firmly. “I can do what I want with it, and go where I want. I don’t need your permission, Mavek.”

“Mistaken again. You’re one of my fae now, Arden Archer. The freedom you have is the freedom I’ve given you.”

“Super romantic, asshole,” Eskel stated from where he was propped against the wall, still rubbing at his neck. Cato was standing next to him, body slightly turned so as to block his king should he attack a second time. As soon as Eskel spoke, he hissed at him, scolding.

“I’ve offered to accept you,” Mavek reminded Eskel.

“He what?” Cole asked in surprise, while Tabby immediately made a face of disgust.

“That is not romantic at all,” she said.

“It isn’t?” Cole frowned, and she blinked at him like he’d grown a second head.

Arden felt the tips of her ears start to burn.

Something caught Cole’s eye down the hall, and he told them, “A nurse is coming.”

“I’ll leave you then,” Mavek said, brushing his fingers against Arden’s arm. “Keep Cato close for the time being. I’ll look in to the Crown Prince.”

“Who now?” Cole’s gaze sharpened, but Mavek paid him no mind, turning to Cato instead.

“Make sure she goes to Tabitha’s,” he ordered. As soon as he got a nod in response, he glanced one last time in Eskel’s direction. It seemed like there was something else he wanted to say, but after a moment he ended up leaving without addressing him.

Arden dropped back down on the bed as he turned down the hallway, out of sight. When she finally gathered the courage to glance back at Eskel, it was impossible to miss the finger shaped bruises forming on his neck.

In all their years of friendship, Arden couldn’t recall a more awkward moment passing between them.

Tabitha was already lying in bed, comforter tossed over her body, eyes staring unblinkingly up at the ceiling. Arden had taken the spot on the floor, a pile of blankets cushioning her from the otherwise solid ground.

Both Cole and Eskel were asleep in the living room downstairs, refusing to leave after they’d arrived from the hospital. Since this was Tabby’s parents’ house, it wouldn’t be right for them to stay together, but Arden regretted the distance between her and her other friends right now. At least with Cole in here making his jokes, she wouldn’t be trapped in this dead silence.

The entire car ride, Tabby had barely said two words to her. Even when she’d pulled out the blankets from the closet and began setting them up, she’d remained quiet.

“I’m starting to think staying at my house was the smarter plan after all,” Arden whispered, too nervous to speak louder. Why was she more afraid of her best friend than she was of being attacked by Unseelie? With a huff, she tossed the comforter off and sat up, twisting around so that she faced the bed.

Tabby remained unmoving.

“Are we just never going to speak again?” If that was the case, she was definitely leaving. Already she felt so frustrated she could cry, and after the night she’d had, she wasn’t willing to let her emotions get the best of her again.

“I…” Tabby paused, cleared her throat. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Literally anything.” Communication had never been a problem between them.

“I’m embarrassed,” Tabby blurted suddenly, grunting as she sat up, her hands pounding down into the plush covers in aggravation. “I never meant for you to hear my conversation with Cole, and it sucks that you did! If I’d known you were there—”

“You would have lied?” Arden didn’t like that possibility either.

“No.” Tabby sighed. “I would have chosen my words more carefully.”

“You called me a monster.”

“I didn’t mean it!” Something akin to anger and annoyance flashed across her face. “The fae scare me, Arden. They might be the scariest things on the entire planet, in fact, so the thought of you turning into one of them—that really terrified me, okay? It’s hard for me to even comprehend what’s going on with you. I mean, think about it, you’re physically changing into something else. How is that even possible? It makes no rational sense, even knowing all that I do about the supernatural.”

Arden could understand that; she was just as afraid, could only think about what was happening to her in bits and pieces of time before she needed to distract herself and pretend none of it was real.

But it was real. This was her reality, and pretending it away had done nothing but form a crevice between them. She’d been so focused on finding a solution––on helping herself––she hadn’t paid attention to the people around her and what this change meant for them.

“You turned old after eating the goblin fruit,” Arden pointed out, trying to find any sort of connection. Sure, it seemed out of the realm of possibility, but they both knew it wasn’t. “You ate a piece of fruit and began rapidly aging. Cole ate some and became addicted. All the women in my family see things that regular people can’t. Our lives are all about strange shit happening, Tabby. This isn’t anything new.”

“You’re right,” she stated firmly, “I underwent a weird event that altered me physically, and that’s why I’m so scared for you. I know what it’s like to not feel like myself or recognize my own body. I only had to deal with that for a night. You… you’re going to have to put up with that forever, Arden.”

“I saved you.” She lifted a shoulder, but failed to put enough energy into the move to make the confidence she was feigning believable. “You’ll return the favor.”

Tabby stared at her for a long moment. Her hair was a tangled mess around her face, the baggy T-shirt she’d put on for bed riddled with holes at the collar. She looked like a college student. Vaguely, Arden wondered how much longer she’d look like one herself. Would her outer appearance change? “You don’t really believe that,” Tabby said finally, voice low and breathy in the darkness of the room.

Her breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t really sure when she’d stopped, when she’d given up hope at finding a cure, but hearing the words spoken out loud made it impossible for her to ignore the truth anymore. “I don’t think there’s a way of reversing it,” she admitted.

“What if…” Tabby bit down on her bottom lip and glanced away, clearly unsure if she wanted to continue or not. “What if there is?”

“If there was, we would have found something by now and—”

“No, I mean…” Tabby inhaled deeply, then readjusted on the bed so that she was completely turned toward Arden. “Cole might have found something earlier, but we got the call about you being in the hospital before we could fully look into it. We weren’t going to say anything until we were sure, but I think there might be a way, Arden.”

“What?” Her mind blanked out for a few seconds before she was able to focus again. “Everyone kept saying it was impossible.”

“I know!” Excitedly, Tabby dropped off the bed, settling down on the pile of blankets next to Arden. She grabbed her hands, clutching them tightly in her own. “But the fae lie, we both know that!”

“How did you find it?” She sounded numb even to her own ears, but couldn’t muster a semblance of the hope she heard in her best friend’s voice. Didn’t want to risk it.

“Cole should probably be the one to tell you,” Tabby began, “but whatever. He felt so bad about what he’d said the other day, he went back to the Goblin market for the first time since breaking his curse.”

“He what?”

“I know,” she waved her concerns off, “and I already yelled at him for it, that’s not the point. He found something. Brix and the market left tonight, and they were in the process of packing when he got there, so the fae were more forthcoming with information. One of them, someone Cole has known since he’d been cursed, figured they’d be far enough away from Mavek by morning that it’d be safe enough to tell us! About three hundred years ago, a boy was tricked into becoming an Unseelie in a similar fashion. He figured out a way to reverse the change just in time!”

“How?” Arden was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that a random Unseelie in the market had known about this. Of course he would have kept quiet for fear of punishment by Mavek. But how many others knew the secret she’d been searching for as well? How many others had laughed at her from the shadows as she and her friends had scrambled desperately these past few months?

Maybe even more importantly, how did they know this information could even be trusted?

“Cole didn’t get a chance to tell me everything,” Tabby waved her hand to the side, “but if it’s possible what does it matter? Aren’t you willing to do anything?”

Was she?

Arden didn’t want to disappoint her friend, didn’t want to be the catalyst that pushed them back into awkward silences, but…

“I was willing to do anything before, remember?” she said. “I entered the Tithe and ended up putting everyone I care about in even more danger. I want to believe there’s a way to stop this, Tabby, I really do, but I have to be honest with you. Even if what Cole found is real, I have to draw the line somewhere. There are certain things I won’t do.”

She couldn’t let herself become the thing that Tabby feared. She couldn’t become a monster, even if it was to stop herself from becoming an Unseelie.

It wasn’t just the people here that she was worried about, either. Ainsley was still out there living with the sight, and as the sister of the girl who’d helped send the Erlking to the Underground, she was already at greater risk than she’d been a few months ago. It might not have been her intention, but Arden had done that.

Somehow, she’d gotten away with harming a faerie regent. She wasn’t foolish enough to assume she’d get away with it a second time. She could stomach pissing off Mavek by keeping herself human, but only if she could keep the others from getting dragged into this mess.

“I can’t be selfish again,” Arden continued. “I joined the Tithe to save myself and my sister. I never even considered what that might mean for you, or what you’d go through if you lost me.”

When Tabby was on the verge of being taken to the Underground by those water fae, Arden had lost it. The thought of never getting to see her friend again, of not knowing what would happen to her once she’d disappeared, had been so debilitating it was a wonder she’d managed to act against the Erlking at all.

She’d willingly signed up for the Tithe with the belief that she’d be trading her own soul, not once considering what that might mean for the people she’d be leaving behind. In her mind, the tradeoff had been worth it. How could saving her little sister from a wicked fate not be?

On its own, she still believed in that line of thinking—she’d do anything for Ainsley—but now she was wiser. Now she truly understood what the Unseelie were capable of, and how they lied. If only she’d stopped and looked at the Tithe clearly, seen the webs of deceit earlier and realized it was too good to be true, then she might have avoided all of this.

“Arden—”

“Can you accept that?” she cut her off, needing to put it out there before it was too late. Hoping that Tabby would at least try to understand where she was coming from. “If I choose not to go through with whatever Cole found, can you accept that?”

Tabby searched her face for a long moment, obviously torn. “Cole said something to me the other day, but I don’t think you heard it. You must have left before.”

It took her a moment to figure out that Tabby was referring to their conversation at Howl’s. Arden had left as quickly as she was able.

“Right after I made that comment, the one that hurt you so badly, he told me, ‘She’s already more Unseelie than she is human.’ ”

Even though she knew it was true, Arden felt her spine stiffen and the air catch in her lungs. Ever since that trip to the aquarium with Eskel, when she’d moved the saltshaker without meaning to do so, she’d been forced to acknowledge that fact. More than that, she felt different. More sensitive to touch and smells and sights.

“That made me realize,” Tabby was still talking, completely unaware of the tiny meltdown Arden was having, “you’re different already, yet… you’re not.”

Arden frowned.

“You’re still you,” she elaborated. “Eskel said it best back at the hospital. I was so afraid of you turning into someone else, of losing my best friend because every fae I’ve ever met has been a manipulative jerk that I was too stupid to realize how ridiculous I was being. It didn’t fully hit me until I saw how badly I’d hurt you. I’m sorry, Arden, really.”

Tabby tightened her grip on her hands, shuffling a bit closer so their knees bumped together. “Whether you’re a faerie or a human, you’re my best friend. Forever. Okay?”

She was positive she was going to cry now, so she forced herself to laugh and said, “That has got to be the cheesiest thing I have ever heard in my entire life.”

“Hey!” Tabby slapped lightly at her arm, sucking in a breath when that caused Arden to wince. “Sorry! I forgot you were hurt!”

“We literally just came from the hospital,” she said, rolling her eyes to help make the words lighter.

Everything was happening all at once. Just yesterday, she was being told to forget about a cure, and now there might actually be one. How was she supposed to react?

“I don’t know how to feel right now,” she murmured, mostly to herself, though Tabby heard, sitting as close as she was.

“Don’t get your hopes up too high yet,” Tabby suggested, but she couldn’t mask the sparkle in her eyes or hide her subtle smile. She might not know the details, but it was obvious she was expecting great results from this.

Arden tried to smile back, but inside she was a swirling mess of emotions.

Once again, she didn’t know what to do.

“This sounds too good to be true.” Eskel stared skeptically across the table at Cole. They were crowded together in the back corner of Tollbooth’s, the four of them having left Tabby’s house only fifteen minutes ago, around noon. Thanks to the crazy events of last night, they’d slept half the day away.

With exams over, not many college students lingered in town, so the pizza place was fairly empty. A couple of high school kids were joking around on the far side of the shop, giving Arden and her friends a fair amount of privacy. Aside from the library, they didn’t typically discuss the Unseelie openly in public, but they all wanted to see if the information Cole had gathered would really be useful, or simply turn into another false lead.

Arden still had her doubts.

“I know,” Cole said, taking a large gulp of his grape soda before making a face of disgust and quickly snatching Tabby’s water. Ignoring her outcry, he chugged down half the glass before heaving a massive sigh of relief.

“What is wrong with you?” his cousin demanded, grabbing back her now sullied water. She slammed it back down on the table with a loud click. “I get that whatever Titania did with those cakes messed up your taste buds, but seriously?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think about that.” Arden had ordered Cole’s usual—grape soda—when he’d gone to the bathroom earlier.

“It’s fine,” he said, poking a single finger at the soda can and sliding it further away from him despite his words. “It just tastes like battery acid, is all.”

“That’s gross.” Eskel twirled a finger in the air. “But back on topic.”

Cole glanced down at the tabletop, suddenly sheepish. “I felt really bad for telling Arden to give up the other night,” he told them solemnly. “That wasn’t cool of me. I realized that there was an option we hadn’t explored yet, and decided to take my chances.”

“You shouldn’t have gone there alone,” Arden interrupted.

He grunted. “It’s not like I’d be dumb enough to make the same mistake twice. I didn’t touch any of the food, trust me. I just walked in and looked for my friend, who, fortunately, was still there even though a lot of the market had already finished packing and were on their way out of town.”

She couldn’t recall him ever having mentioned that he’d made friends with some of the Unseelie at the market. Truthfully, the two of them hadn’t shared things with one another for a while, so she shouldn’t be surprised there were details about his life that she didn’t know.

“This faerie I know said he’d wanted to tell me for some time, but fear of the repercussions had stopped him. Now that he was going to be far away from the Midnight King’s territory, he felt like he could safely reveal this to me.”

“And you trust him?” Eskel didn’t sound convinced. “Why? What’s in it for him?”

“Even if he’s not around now,” Tabby chimed, “he’s bound to run into Mavek again eventually. Does he just assume he’ll be forgiven by then? I hate to admit it, but it does seem a little fishy.”

After everything they’d been through, it made sense that none of them were willing to take anything from the Unseelie to heart without further investigation.

“Let’s try to not be such downers, okay?” Cole suggested. “Whether what he told me is real or not, it’s our only chance. We might as well give it a shot. Unless we want to go back to the plan to try and discover Midnight’s true name?” He lifted a disapproving brow.

Arden sighed. That’d been an impossible task and they all knew it. Even Eskel, who’d been the one to come up with it, looked away in acknowledgment.

“Exactly,” Cole continued, taking their silence as agreement. “Besides, I can vouch for this faerie. During my time as a Heartless, he always had my back when the Erlking wasn’t looking. Not to mention, why risk himself if he was merely playing a prank on us?”

“That’s a fair point,” Eskel thought it over. “If word gets back to Mavek that this faerie told you something about the curse, it won’t matter if it’s true or not. He’ll be pissed.”

“He’ll make an example of him,” Arden nodded. “Definitely.”

“See?” Cole slapped his palms excitedly down on the edge of the table, rattling their cups and silverware, before seizing his knife. He began spinning it around his fingers absently, excitement palpable. “Alright, let me tell you—”

The sound of glass breaking cut him off and their heads swiveled toward it.

“George?” Arden called their waiter, frowning.

He stood a couple feet away, a broken shaker bottle filled with Parmesan cheese at his feet. His hand, the one that had been holding the bottle, still hovered in the air. His mouth hung open slightly, and his gaze was locked onto Cole’s hand and the knife he was still playing with.

Arden’s frown deepened. For as long as she could remember, George had been working at Tollbooth’s. When the place had first opened when she’d been in middle school, he was one of the waiters on staff. Despite how long they’d known one another, he’d always shied away from her––never rude, but not overly polite either. Just… distant. She’d always figured it was because she was a customer and they weren’t friends.

Now…

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” the words came out a mere whisper, more out of surprise than an attempt to keep the few other customers from overhearing. When George started as if she’d shouted, however, she got her answer. “You’re an Unseelie.”

“Been hiding in plain sight, I see,” Cole said.

George’s gaze snapped up to Cole’s, his face paling as their eyes met. He took a step backward.

“George?” Arden stood carefully but the legs of her chair scraped against the linoleum flooring, causing the waiter to jump. Both her hands flew up, palms out. “Whoa. It’s okay if you’re an Unseelie. We won’t judge.”

Even as she spoke, a thought nagged at the back of her mind. She wondered why she hadn’t gotten that weird vibe from him––that tingle she felt when another fae was around. What’s more, why had he hidden his identity all this time? She wondered if the rest of his kind knew, or if they were just as in the dark as she was. Perhaps the reason she hadn’t been able to sense him was because she was still in the process of changing.

The waiter spared her a brief glance, but it was as if he saw right through her. His eyes shifted back to Cole one last time, and then he was spinning on his heels. He ran through the store so quickly he practically knocked over a table in his haste. He was behind the employees-only counter and racing through the kitchen before Arden could even think to follow. One of the cooks called his name but George never slowed, slamming through the back exit without a backward glance.

“Should we…” Tabby blinked, “go after him?”

Arden thought it over, then lowered back down into her chair. “No.”

“What if he can help?” Eskel asked, but she shook her head.

She knew fear. Whatever George was afraid of, they didn’t have the right to drag him back to face it.

“Is anyone going to be taking our order now, or…?” Tabby leaned up on the table, craning her neck to get a better peek into the back where the cooks were, still perplexed over George’s exit. “Maybe I should just walk up there and place it.”

“You’re concerned about the pizza?” Cole looked bemused.

“I’m hungry.”

Part of Arden was worried about George, but she really couldn’t do anything for him, and he hadn’t exactly asked for their help anyway.

“Let’s just get to the point,” she said. “What did the Unseelie tell you at the market?”

“Right.” Cole dropped the knife back onto the table and folded his arms. “There’s a list of things needed in order to reverse the curse. It’s not a very long one, but the items are sort of taboo and hard to come by.”

“How taboo?” And why wasn’t she surprised?

“A drop of blood from the Unseelie who cast the spell, a piece of his magic made physical, and something that the Unseelie cares for. The ingredients need to be mixed together before the next full moon.”

“And then?” Tabby looked about as comfortable with all of this as Arden was. Which was to say, not very.

Cole met her gaze straight on and said almost casually, “She drinks it.”

They were all silent.

“You’re joking, right?” Eskel finally asked. “Even if drinking it wasn’t absolutely disgusting, trying for Mavek’s blood is like going on a suicide mission. Have you ever even seen him bleed?”

Arden shook her head. “He does though.”

“We don’t even know if this is real or not,” he repeated, though they’d already settled that argument less than ten minutes prior. “It’s too dangerous to even consider. And what’s with that other item? Something he cares about? Could that be any vaguer?”

“It’s the first real lead we’ve gotten,” Cole disagreed, “and it could work. Why not give it a try? It’s not like Midnight would hurt her, even if she got close enough to draw blood. I doubt he’d even guess what her aim was. According to my fae friend, not many know about this. He only does because he witnessed it work on that human three hundred years ago.”

“Are you trying to say that not even Mavek knows about this?” Tabby frowned. “Shouldn’t he, though? He’s the one who cast the curse in the first place.”

Cole lifted a single shoulder. “Who knows? Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. It’s pretty old magic. But even if he is aware of it, by the time he figures out that we know, it’ll hopefully be too late.”

“Mavek is ancient,” Arden mumbled. All the possibilities were running through her head. The blood would be difficult, but it was hardly the most challenging step. “He cares about his roses. I could easily steal one of those. Finding his magic in physical form though… I don’t even know how to go about that.”

“What about the candied roses?” Tabby suggested, flinching back slightly when Eskel glared at her. “What? This isn’t your or my decision, it’s hers, so if she wants to go through with it, I’m going to help her.”

“Right,” he drawled, “and that has nothing to do with you thinking she’ll become a monster otherwise.”

“Hey!”

“Stop.” Arden rested a hand lightly over his arm. “We’ve already made up, don’t rehash anything. Besides, she’s right. If this could work, I want to go through with it, and you don’t really have the right to stop me from doing so.”

He opened his mouth, presumably to argue, then snapped it shut once more. After a few tense seconds, he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “In order to make any of this happen, you’ll need to get close to him again. You know that, right? How are you going to pull that off, Arden?”

She bit her lip. Now that she thought about it, it would be strange to suddenly change her mind and show up on Mavek’s doorstep claiming she was going to let bygones be bygones. No, she needed to come up with an actual plan, a way to convince Mavek without raising any suspicions.

“I don’t want you anywhere near him,” Eskel admitted, shifting so that his knees bumped against the side of her leg under the table.

“Why?” Cole asked before she could comment, drawing their attention back his way. He’d moved on from playing with the knife to tearing a napkin into pieces. “Because you’re afraid of what he might do to her, or because you’re worried her old feelings will redevelop?”

“Cole!” Tabby tried to clamp a hand over his mouth, but she was too late.

Eskel stiffened, shoulders bracing defensively as he stared the other boy down––a boy who once dated Arden himself.

Cole shoved Tabby’s arm away and cleared his throat. “I’m only asking. It would make sense. The two of you are hardly a thing yet, thanks to Mavek Midnight. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t want the girl I loved anywhere near her old flame. Especially with the knowledge that she’s not fully over him. Look, she’s not even denying it.”

Guilt washed over Arden like a tidal wave and instead of responding, she turned apologetic eyes to Tabby.

“Hey,” Tabby abandoned trying to get Cole to shut up, propping her elbows on the table so she could lean all the way across to take Arden’s hand, “don’t worry about it. I’m not upset. Even I still think the guy is hot and I was the one who almost got sent to the Underground.”

“You what now?” Eskel made a face at her, and she stuck her tongue out at him, trying to steer them back into a lighter mood.

“So it’s settled then,” Cole tapped his fingers against the table, waiting for Tabby to sit back down before continuing. “We’re doing this.”

“Why before the next full moon?” Tabby asked.

“Because mortals typically change within two to three moon cycles,” he told her. “Arden’s already passed two, and with how rapidly she’s changing, it seems smart to assume the next one will be it for her. Once she’s fully fae, there’ll be no going back.”

“Your friend told you all this?” Eskel asked.

Cole shrugged and then stood, stretching his arms above his head almost languidly. “Now I’m starving. I’ll go order.”

They watched as he sauntered up to the front counter, where one of the cooks had changed out of his apron and now stood at the register where George should have been.

“Is it just me,” Tabby said, keeping her voice low even though he was out of earshot, “or has he been particularly weird lately?”

“Maybe we should find out if there are any other side effects from what Titania did,” Eskel agreed. “I thought it was just his taste buds, but ever since the crowning he’s been a little bit off.”

Arden remained silent while they talked, mentally adding that to the growing list of problems that needed to be sorted out.

All before the next full moon.

“Remind me,” Arden said, eyes darting around the wide-open backyard of some guy she’d barely spoken three words to all year, “what are we doing here again?”

Tabby groaned. “Cole wanted to come.”

“Yeah,” she said, sidestepping an already drunk sophomore she recognized from one of her classes, “but why?”

“You’ll have to ask him that.” Tabby pointed to where Eskel and Cole stood.

They were in front of one of the long plastic tables that had been set out in Gunther Spring’s backyard, waiting behind a line of other people to grab drinks. Gunther had gone to high school with Cole, Tabby, and Arden, but he’d really only been a friend of the first.

“I didn’t realize they were so close,” Arden muttered aloud, watching as Gunther walked by and slapped Cole on the back.

“They aren’t,” Tabby replied, lips pursing as her eyes took in the same sight. “Or, at least they weren’t. When he came back to town in October, I asked him if he kept in touch with anyone from high school and he told me he hadn’t. Guess they ran into each other in town and caught up or something.”

Last night, Cole had surprised them all by suggesting they go to this end of the year party. With exams over, everyone was ready to celebrate and head off to their own homes for winter break. For people like Arden and Gunther, that meant sticking in town, which was probably why the latter had decided to throw an all-out bash before half his friends left.

No one had bothered asking Cole where he’d heard about the party, mostly because once they’d found out who the host was, they figured he’d been contacted and invited directly. Arden was only now thinking about how strange that was.

Everything about this, in fact, was odd.

When they’d shown no interest in wanting to go, Cole had actually pouted. Cole, who’d avoided group outings like the plague and always hated events like this in high school. They’d even had to bribe him just to get him to go to homecoming.

“Maybe he’s trying to make friends,” Tabby suggested after a moment, the two of them still watching as Eskel and Cole slowly moved up in line. She paused briefly before adding, “He’s decided to transfer to Thornbrooke College.”

“What?!” Realizing she’d spoken too loudly, she glanced around and caught a few curious eyes. When she spoke again, she made sure to keep her tone even. “Why would he do that? What about acting?” There certainly wasn’t a better acting program than Carnegie Mellon.

She already felt bad that he’d extended his leave of absence in order to stick around and help her. Now he was saying that he was never going to return?

“I don’t know,” Tabby said. “When I asked, he told me it didn’t matter anymore. Super casually too. Do you think… Could something be wrong with him?” Almost as soon as the words were out, she was shaking her head. “No, never mind. It’s probably just stress. We’re all under a lot of it. Anyway, I’m going to try and convince him not to make that massive mistake. If he asks you for your opinion—”

“Oh, I’ll definitely tell him to go back,” Arden reassured. The Unseelie might be everywhere, but this town was certainly the hub of all the ones they’d recently pissed off. “You should think about—”

“I’m not leaving,” Tabby shot her down before she could get the full sentence out, then chucked her chin toward the guys who were finally heading back, a drink in each hand.

Eskel reached them first, handing Arden a bottle of water absently as he took a look around the crowded backyard. Despite the cold December air and the thin layer of snow coating the ground, the festivities were in full swing. From where they stood on the porch, they could see into the sunroom attached to the back of the house, an area that was even more packed than outside.

“Gunther claims to have put all the alcohol outside to help people sober up,” Tabby told them, rolling her eyes. “What a bunch of bullshit.”

“I think he just likes torturing people,” Arden agreed, and Cole chuckled lightly.

The four of them had opted for water since the location of this party put them all on edge. Gunther lived in the old part of town—the same area where Arden’s old house rested, and where Rose Manor was located. The woods at the edge of his backyard curved and joined with the ones that stood sentry on Mavek’s grounds.

Arden would be seriously surprised if no fae showed up tonight. Not just because of the close vicinity either. Parties were the perfect place for faeries to wreak a little havoc.

“Tabby, hey.” A boy Arden didn’t recognize walked up to them, hovering on the steps leading up to the patio where they stood. Sheepishly, he smiled at Tabitha, hand clenching tightly around the neck of a beer bottle.

“What’s up, Seth?” she replied, then turned to address Arden and the rest, explaining, “We have Physics 101 together.”

Seth waved at them, before quickly turning back to Tabby. “How’d you do on the final?”

“I’m out.” Cole broke off from the rest of them without another word, dropping down the steps and passing Seth without so much as a second glance. Now that most people had collected their drinks, the crowd outside had thinned substantially, yet he still managed to get lost within a throng of bodies.

Arden and Eskel both frowned after him, but Tabby merely shrugged.

“He’s weird sometimes,” she explained to the confused Seth, then motioned toward the backdoor. “Want to go inside for a bit?”

Arden blinked after her best friend as she also left, then turned to Eskel once the two of them were alone. He looked just as surprised as she was that they’d been abandoned.

“I was under the impression that we weren’t really here to have fun?” he questioned, glancing first in the direction Cole had vanished, and then the one Tabby had gone. “Did they, like, not get the same memo?”

“Right?” She took a sip of her water, mostly to buy time to collect her thoughts before realizing, “Actually, what are we doing here, exactly? I tried asking Tabby, but she mostly deflected.”

“Did you want to make sure none of the fae caused any trouble?”

She thought it over, and then shook her head. “I mean, I hope they don’t, but I wouldn’t have come all this way just for that.”

Sad, but true. She couldn’t really bring herself to feel guilty about it either, too busy freezing her ass off in the cold weather.

“Who the hell has a partially outdoors party in the middle of winter anyway?” she mumbled, watching as a puff of her breath floated in front of her.

“Okay, we came because Cole begged us.” Eskel laughed. “Might as well admit that there was nothing noble in it and move on with our lives.”

“Do you know anyone else here?” Arden recognized a few from various classes, but no one that she’d had any type of lengthy conversation with. A couple she’d gone to high school with stood out in the crowd, but there weren’t many people from those days she wanted to keep in touch with either.

By the time they’d graduated from middle school, most of the teasing had stopped, but there’d still been some classmates who called her names and picked on her for “seeing things that weren’t there”. She’d gotten past letting those sorts of comments affect her, but that didn’t mean she wanted to befriend any of them now.

“This really isn’t my scene,” she admitted.

Eskel grunted. “One, I don’t really know anyone here. Two, I can’t believe you just used that phrase, ‘scene’. Wow.”

“Put it a different way then,” she suggested challengingly.

“This is cute,” a sarcastic voice drawled. Arden turned to see Cato, who lifted a beer bottle to his lips and took a long gulp before making a face. A girl walked by and he thrust his arm out, forcing her to take the bottle with her.

She glared at him, but didn’t say anything.

“What are you doing here?” Arden asked as he shoved his hands into his pockets and surveyed their surroundings with obvious contempt.

“I have to shadow you, remember? Thanks for this, by the way. Just what I wanted to do with my Friday night.”

“Believe it or not,” Eskel muttered, “we’re not really excited about being here either.”

“Then let’s go,” Cato suggested, taking a step back toward the exit. “The last time Arden was at a party not hosted by my people she was six and there was a bouncy house. What could have urged you all to come here in the first place?”

“Cole,” their reply came simultaneously.

“That’s—” His head snapped in the direction of the backyard, his sentence left hanging in the air unfinished.

Arden felt it only a moment later––that slight tingle up her spine followed by the knowing. “An Unseelie just arrived.”

“A strong one,” Cato agreed, his brow furrowing in a slight frown. “Hold on.” Without waiting for a response, he descended the steps and began weaving through the small groupings of people, his form soon swallowed up by the dark patches of the backyard where the porch light didn’t reach.

“We knew there’d be fae,” Eskel said, his eyes still straining to follow Cato’s path. “Why’s he reacting like that?”

“It feels different,” Arden tried to explain, struggling with it. “Almost like… whoever’s here hasn’t come to enjoy the party.”

He blinked at her. “You can get all that from just standing here?”

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Yeah.”

“Should we…” He looked between her and the space where Cato had vanished, “follow after him?”

“Maybe in a min—” She was moving before her mind had time to process, a shock wave of sensation slamming into her, causing her to react first and think later. Darting down the steps, she rushed off toward the back, veering right. It took her eyes a second to adjust once she was out of reach of the porch light, but she didn’t stop to wait for them.

A copse of trees lit by pale moonlight came into view, and on the ground beneath the branches, a little boy no older than five lay. He was curled up, his forehead pressed to his knees, and his shoulders were shaking slightly as if he was crying. The sound of boots crunching in the snow at her back had Arden turning, catching Eskel’s arm before he could move past her.

“Don’t,” she warned, giving a sharp shake of her head. “That’s not what you think it is.”

He frowned at her, and then stared at the boy, squinting. Circling the faerie ring gave him the ability to see the Unseelie, but it didn’t help improve his vision in the dark. With his limited human sight, he couldn’t make out all the tiny details like Arden could.

Thin green and red vines snaked from around the bottom of the tree trunk and wrapped up the boy’s left leg, twisting and disappearing beneath the hem of his yellow T-shirt. No kid would be out here in this weather in just a T-shirt.

Something shifted beneath the ground directly in front of them, and Arden instinctually shoved Eskel out of the way just before another vine shot upward. It slashed forward, cutting through the air with a shrill whistle, its pointed tip slicing across Eskel’s cheek. If she hadn’t pushed him back, it would have gone straight through his face.

He landed on the ground with a heavy thump, scuttling backward as the vine shot toward him a second time. Arden reached out, grabbing onto the vine tightly. It was covered in small thorns, and she hissed as they dug into the skin of her palm. Gripping harder despite the pain, she pulled the vine in the opposite direction so Eskel could regain his footing.

“Don’t,” she snapped, when he went to take a step toward her. The end of the vine had begun wrapping itself around her hand, thorns biting deeper into her flesh. She felt a slight tug in the direction of the little boy beneath the tree.

She glanced over, sucking in a sharp breath when she was met with glowing red eyes. He’d barely lifted his head, but it was clear he was smiling now. The vine around his leg shifted, drawing her attention before the one in her hand gave a hard tug.

Arden slipped, falling face first onto the ground. She sputtered, spitting out a mouthful of dirty snow, and struggled to make it to her knees. The vine began pulling her faster, her body now sliding toward the boy and the tree. She was halfway there when her mind caught up and she changed tactics. Reaching back, she lost another moment struggling to lift her right leg close enough, but then her fingers found the grip of her dagger and she almost sighed out loud. In one swift motion, she unsheathed it and slashed it against the vine. The blade cut through the plant easily, severing the bit she held from the rest.

Eskel was behind her, tugging her up and retreating so fast they both almost toppled a second time. He didn’t stop until they were a good thirty feet away from the tree, both of them harried and out of breath.

As soon as they came to a standstill, Arden held up her hand, grimacing as the piece of vine attached to her turned to ash, blowing away in a strong gust of wind. Its disappearance did nothing to heal her wounds, and the couple dozen tiny cuts stung and bled. Fortunately, it didn’t appear as though anyone from the party had noticed them leaving, or been curious enough to trail them. From this distance, she doubted they could see anything either which was one less thing to worry about in any case.

“What the hell is that thing?” Eskel exclaimed between gasps, still holding onto her right arm, his eyes wide and staring at the unmoving boy beneath the tree.

“Bad news, clearly.” Arden adjusted her grip on the knife, the move forcing Eskel to let go. She only needed a heartbeat to take aim, and then sent the blade soaring through the air, headed straight for the Unseelie boy. Just as it was about to make contact, another vine burst through the tree trunk and blocked it, sending the knife skidding off to the right.

“Well crap.” She swallowed. She only had one left, and that one was made of iron. She’d started wearing extra thick socks just so she could tolerate having the iron knife tucked in her boot. She wasn’t sure how she was going to handle holding it, or how long she’d manage to do so.

“How are you with throwing daggers?” she asked, and Eskel’s expression was answer enough. “Remind me to teach you sometime.”

“A world of please do.”

“Cato was totally right,” she said, “we shouldn’t have come to this party.”

“Speaking of, where the hell is—”

Right on cue, a flash of red darted out from the trees off to the left. Cato grabbed the discarded knife as he passed, moving faster than the human eye could process. Arden had little trouble following his movements, watching as he twisted and slid the last few feet across the snow and ice-covered ground toward the faerie boy.

The vine around the boy’s leg began to untangle, but it was already too late. The blade of the knife slashed out like a viper, cutting across the boy’s throat. He didn’t even get the chance to scream before his body burst into a thousand tiny yellow flower petals. They scattered into the wind.

Eskel hissed, pulling Arden out of her reverie, and when she turned he was pressing the pads of his fingers lightly against the cut on his cheek.

“Are you alright?” She tugged on his wrist so she could get a better look as Cato slowly made his way toward them. “It isn’t deep.”

The thin wound had already stopped bleeding, and was barely an inch long. He’d certainly gotten lucky.

“What about you?” Eskel grabbed her injured hand, holding it up close to his face so he could see it in the dark. After staring at it for a moment, however, he frowned and met her eyes. The cuts on her hand were almost completely gone, the lingering few slowly sewing themselves up as they stood there.

“Huh,” Cato stopped directly in front of them, also inspecting her hand, “looks like the fast healing has kicked in. You got that with the change, but you still need to be careful. Larger injuries will take a while to mend. You’re fortunate that these are all minor cuts.”

Arden cleared her throat and removed her hand from Eskel’s, a bit embarrassed. She crossed her arms and glared at Cato and the knife he still held. “And what the hell were you doing while we were being attacked by that thing?”

“That thing was an Unseelie,” he said, “and I was busy hunting his friends.”

Eskel’s eyes widened. “There were more?”

“Three of them in total. They tend to run in packs.”

“What were they doing here?” Arden asked. They’d known fae would be curious about the party, but that boy hadn’t come for shits and giggles. He would have killed them without a second of hesitation.

Cato shifted on his feet. “Maybe I should tell you this in the presence of the Midnight King.”

“Are you joking?” Eskel chided.

“What are you three doing back here?” a voice called out, making them jump. Cole was heading toward them from the direction of the party. His hands were in his pockets and he glanced between the three of them curiously before cocking his head at Cato. “What’s up?”

“Where have you been?” Eskel turned, giving the other guy a clear view of his cheek in the process.

“Whoa, what happened?” Cole took a step closer. “Were you guys fighting or something?”

“We were attacked,” Arden told him, snapping her fingers at Cato, “and he was just about to tell us what by.”

“I mean, I’m guessing Unseelie.” Cole lifted a shoulder in a half shrug.

“Obviously,” Eskel said, his annoyance palpable. “But why?”

Cato shifted uncomfortably on his feet, and as the three of them unflinchingly stared him down, caved with a heavy sigh. “Fine. I caught one of them in the woods and just before I killed him, he mentioned something about Finch.”

“The Crown Prince.” Cole crossed his arms. “So he sent someone after Arden again?”

Chills went down Arden’s spine.

“Seems to be turning into a nasty habit,” Cato confirmed, running a hand through his hair.

“And we’re still sure that he doesn’t intend to murder me?” It was starting to seem less likely to Arden.

“That faerie boy attacked me first,” Eskel reminded Cato, though she could see the doubt in his eyes.

“He wasn’t a boy,” Cato corrected. “He just looked like one. It’s a trap to lure humans.”

“Hmm,” Cole nodded his head. “Nothing’s as it seems with the fae. Even friend and foe are impossible to discern.”

“Is that an accusation?” Cato’s eyes flashed silver in the moonlight, but Cole merely chuckled.

“This is the second attack in the past few nights,” Eskel interjected, bringing them back to the matter at hand. “Either they’re growing bolder, or this Finch guy is getting impatient. I thought Mavek was supposed to warn his fae against harming Arden? Wasn’t that the agreement?”

“He had an arrangement with his fae not to harm any of you,” Cato confirmed. “Titania breaching that contract must have caused a rift. Then with the arrival of the Crown Prince, things are getting harder to control. Mavek’s fae can’t refuse a direct order from Finch even if they want to.”

“But this is Mavek’s territory.”

“He comes from the Underground,” Cole stated. “They all do. Whether they live here or not, all fae have to obey the laws of their true rulers––those who remained in their realm.”

“Didn’t they once share this world with humans?” Eskel asked.

“Eons ago,” Cato shook his head. “We’ve long since moved on. The Underground was created to be our paradise. The royals still find our desire to remain here among the humans distasteful. It’s a large part of why we have to pay the Tithe to stay. That way, we’re still doing our part for the Underground.”

“Herla delivered a large number of souls when he was sacrificed,” Cole said, “so he was accepted. They might not be bright and shiny and perfect like the Tithe usually is, but they were good enough to satisfy the High King.”

Cato turned to stare at Cole, expression enigmatic.

“I’m only saying,” Cole began once he noticed the attention, “that it seems like the only royal we have to worry about is Finch. I still think he’s testing Arden, trying to get a feel for her abilities. My suggestion—”

“Yes,” Eskel cut him off with a frustrated wave of his hand, “we all know what you think we should do.”

“I don’t,” Cato countered. “Enlighten me. Unless, of course, you think that I can’t be trusted, since I’m fae and all.” His gaze focused intensely on Cole, who steadily stared back.

“Not at all,” Cole disagreed. “I told them the other day that I think the smart play here is to discover what she’s capable of before it’s too late. Things are getting risky, and she only has until the next full moon before—”

“What?” Cato’s voice dropped, low and dangerous. “How do you know that?”

“Did you know that?” Arden asked, feeling a sweep of betrayal before she could help it. Of course, Cato had only ever been on her side after his loyalties to Mavek were out of the way. She’d guessed that the Midnight King had kept the knowledge to himself to bide his time. If that were the case, it made sense that he’d order his right hand man to do the same.

“Answer the question, human,” Cato ignored her, still glaring at Cole.

“An Unseelie told him,” Arden answered instead, frowning between the two of them.

“What?” he asked incredulously, turning to face her.

“There’s a way to reverse what was done to her,” Eskel added, watching the fae closely for any sort of tell.

“Another thing I’ve been trying to convince them to attempt,” Cole agreed.

“A way to…” Cato paused, licked his lips, and dropped his gaze. They all gave him some time to collect his thoughts, before he finally broke the silence with, “No. That’s not possible.”

“Are you sure?” Arden asked, as the last spark of hope fizzled and died inside her chest. She’d known it was a long shot––hadn’t yet decided if she was going to go through with it––but still, it’d been a chance. Real or not.

“Don’t tell me anymore.”

“But—”

“Don’t!” Cato cut Eskel off. He gave them all a pointed look. “I can’t know about this, any of it.”

“If you do, you’ll have to report it to Mavek,” Arden guessed, to which the fae gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“I’ve told you what I had to, that there’s no cure. That’s all I can say. From here on out, keep that kind of thing to yourself, and out of my sight.”

“You’re saying it’s impossible,” Eskel said thoughtfully, “but you aren’t telling us not to pursue this…”

Could that mean this was real and Cato knew about it too? Arden tried not to let herself get too excited. He wouldn’t bother telling them to keep the details to themselves otherwise. Whatever Cole had discovered, there had to be some truth to it. There really was a way to undo it.

Arden could stay human after all.

“You should be reporting this,” Cole pointed out, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Running off to tell Mavek about the possibility we’ve found a way. Why aren’t you? It’s certainly not because you actually believe there’s no chance to turn her back—so why?”

“I’ve known Arden practically her entire human life,” Cato stated. “I’ve seen her go from terrified of us, to understanding, to indifferent. You really think I don’t know that becoming an Unseelie is the last thing she’s ever wanted?”

“So,” Cole asked in disbelief, “you’re doing this for Arden’s sake?”

“I’m keeping this quiet for the sake of an old friend,” he snapped. “Nothing more. But if this gets out, and Mavek asks me directly—”

“I understand,” Arden said before he could finish. She knew the risk he was taking right now, touched that he was willing to, despite knowing how tentative his friendship really was. How quickly he could do something to change her mind about him. “Thank you.”

He waited, almost as if he expected her to add something snide. When she didn’t, he nodded his head and held out her silver dagger. When she tried to take it, he tightened his grip, forcing her to glance back up at him and meet his gaze.

“Consider your options very carefully, Arden. Mistakes, at this point in time, can prove deadly.”

Had he been telling her this was a good idea, or a bad one?

Cato’s words replayed in Arden’s mind for the millionth time since he’d spoken them two nights ago. In the time since, she hadn’t seen him lurking about, no matter how hard she’d searched. It was almost like he’d vanished altogether.

Or he was purposefully keeping his distance so that she could get away with what she planned to do next.

Arden inhaled slowly, deeply, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. Even though she was already here, she still couldn’t decide whether or not this was a smart plan. Maybe she was walking right into a trap, doing exactly what Mavek hoped. Hadn’t he said something before about her eventually coming to him?

He had. She knew he had. She was just trying to justify what she was doing here, or scare herself out of it. Her friends were decidedly no help in this matter. Eskel still thought it was too risky, getting close to Mavek for the mere chance this was all real, even with Cato’s silent testament to the fact. Cole still held strong that they should go for it, and Tabby… Tabby was too nervous to give a set opinion, worried Arden would think she was back to being uncomfortable with her turning fae.

It made the decision that much harder and confusing.

She exhaled, forcing her shoulders back, her spine straightening in the process. Last night, she’d had a nightmare about the party. In it, she hadn’t gotten to Eskel in time, and instead of a small cut on his cheek, he’d ended up with a hole through his face. The dream version of him had died, followed quickly by Cato, who’d tried to help them but failed. He’d shot out of the trees just like he had in reality. But in the dream, the Unseelie boy had been waiting for that. The vine around his leg had untangled much faster, shooting straight for Cato’s chest and piercing him right through the heart.

And all the while, Arden had been unable to do anything to stop it. Because in the dream, Arden had been one hundred percent human. Without the night vision, the quickened speed, the extra strength, she’d been powerless to stop the Unseelie from killing her friends, even with the knives in her boots.

She hadn’t truly considered how her new abilities had altered the events of that night, or the night she and Eskel had been attacked at her house. However, the dream had forced her to realize that even if reversing the curse didn’t work, part of Cole’s plan had merit.

She needed to know how to control these powers, how to be the best version of herself, if only to help keep her friends safe. The only reason Eskel had been attacked those times had been because he was with her, and since he showed no signs of leaving any time soon, Arden saw no other option. She would do this for him, and for Cole and Tabby. Hell, she was willing to sacrifice her soul in order to keep her sister safe. Compared to that, this was nothing. Right?

It would also be helpful, she told herself, if she could use her abilities to better protect herself in the future as well. Though she’d been more focused on finding a way to reverse this new curse, Arden hadn’t been able to shake thoughts of the Erlking’s vision from her mind. Eventually, the vision was going to play out, and she desperately didn’t want the outcome to be what he’d shown her.

However, there was no real way of knowing when the vision would come to pass. When it did, she could be back to being human. Or she could be fully fae. It all depended upon how carefully she played out these next few minutes.

Arden swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and forced her left foot forward toward the wide-open gates of Rose Manor, the last place she thought she’d ever willingly enter again.

It was midafternoon, the full force of the sun shielded by gray clouds, and she could sense it was about to rain. She should have chosen another day, but it’d taken the entire morning for her to work up the nerve to come at all.

There were so many variables to consider; she couldn’t mess this up. After how boldly she’d spoken in the past, she only had one shot to convince Mavek she really wanted to be here—that this wasn’t a trick. If he even suspected there was more to it… Cato had seemed to know about the time limit on her humanity—he hadn’t corrected their guess that she only had until the next full moon. And if he knew, so did the Midnight King.

Mavek couldn’t know that she had ulterior motives. That this was about more than simply navigating her new powers. It was going to be difficult enough finding a chance to collect his blood and steal one of those damned candy roses without him actively thwarting her attempts.

He couldn’t know what she intended. Period.

Arden had a plan, though. After all, she wasn’t going to straight-up lie to him. She really did want to keep her friends safe, and allowing him to train her was the best way to do that. The best lies were the ones told as closely to the truth as possible, and she had a pretty good shot of getting away with this one. The only real problem was that she’d never actively tried to deceive Mavek before. She’d kept her relationship with Eskel from him, but she’d even botched that up in the end.

At least she wouldn’t have to worry about talking to him in the presence of other people, she noted as she approached the porch steps. There didn’t seem to be anyone around, no sounds coming from the backyard or within the house. Since no revelry was planned, most of the Unseelie had dispersed.

Her hand was on the door handle when she realized that, with nothing on his social calendar today, Mavek might not be home. She pursed her lips, pausing to think. Why had she just assumed that if she showed up, he’d be inside waiting? It wasn’t like he spent his days and nights actually pining for her, wallowing in self-pity in his room in the dark.

She scoffed, dropping her hand, and stepped back. Then she felt a tingle up her spine.

“What’s so funny, little heart?” his voice came from her left. He must have come from the back, his shoulder propped against the side of the house a good distance from where she stood. His hands were tucked casually in the front pockets of his black jeans, the move pulling the sides of his pea coat open to expose the low-cut T-shirt he was wearing.

“Mavek.” She couldn’t tell if he was happy to see her or not.

His eyes were sharp, mouth unsmiling. Though his pose was casual, there was an alertness to him that told her he could spring at any moment. He was suspicious, that much was clear, and though she’d been expecting it, it still momentarily threw her.

He was dangerous even when he didn’t suspect something foul.

“Where is everyone?” she asked, after a moment had passed.

“I sent them all away.” His eyes studied her, trailing up her body from her dirty boots to the thick jacket she wore. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear consciously.

“Why?” For the first time, she wondered if this decision had ever really been hers. “Did you… call me here?”

“No.”

She should have been relieved, but mostly she just felt disappointed. It would have been nice, having that as an excuse for her showing up. Of course, he’d never make anything easy.

“Why are you here, Arden?” he asked, after she took too long to speak again. Over his shoulder, the sun had finally broken through the clouds and had begun to dip below the tops of the trees, casting a golden light down on him. If he noticed the warmth at his back, or the chill at his front, he didn’t show it.

“Did Cato tell you?” she said, forcing herself to set things in motion, trying—and failing—to recall the script she’d gone over in her head a dozen times on the way here. “About what happened the other night?”

He cocked his head. “At the party, you mean?”

“Eskel and I were attacked.” She hoped that Cato had kept his word, and had only mentioned the Unseelie issue with his king. Mavek’s knowledge would help sell this.

“What do you want me to do about it?” He pulled his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms, still leaning casually against the wall. “Cato seems to have punished them already, and those particular fae don’t belong to me. It isn’t my problem that your human got hurt.”

“I didn’t exactly leave without a scar or two myself.”

“You could have,” he countered, “if only you’d listened to me and focused on protecting yourself instead of—”

“I know.” She watched as he stilled, as the first spark of emotion flickered in his eyes. When his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, she knew she’d piqued his curiosity. “Look,” she rubbed her hands on her jeans, not really needing to fake her unease, “I’m not saying I changed my mind about us. I haven’t. And I still want to protect my friends, that’s never going to change. But…”

She had to glance away, pretending to find sudden interest in the swaying branches of the trees across the street. Every time the wind blew, they creaked and shook, tiny ice crystals falling to the ground. They’d had fresh snow earlier that morning, and her steps could be retraced in the powder all the way up the drive and across the stone path that lead to the porch.

Hers were the only set of footprints there.

“I need to know how this all works,” she finally continued. “How I work. So, I’m going to need you to… teach me, or whatever.”

Despite the cold, she started to sweat. This was such a bad idea. What the hell had she been thinking? If she was quick enough, she might be able to take it all back and get away before he—

The sound of him moving closer was deafening, and her entire being went on alert, instinctually freezing. When he reached out, his fingers were ice cold against her heated skin, her breath wafting out in thick, puffy clouds as he tipped her chin up and forced her to look at him.

“I mean it,” she managed in a whisper as she caught the look in his eyes. “I haven’t changed my mind. There is no ‘us,’ Mavek. Believing there ever could be… That was a mistake.”

“You came here asking for a favor, yet you’re throwing around insults like iron daggers,” he pointed out. “Does that seem wise, heart? Perhaps you’re here for other reasons.”

“No,” she said, too quickly, and hastily tried to correct it by adding, “You know how hard this is for me, to come here like this, asking for help after I swore I’d never need it. Unseelie aren’t the only ones with pride, you know.”

He considered her. Though he held her head still, he kept his distance, a foot of space separating them so it was just the touch of his fingers and the intense look on his face that kept her from moving away. “Say I decide to help you, Arden. What do I get in return? This doesn’t seem to be a fair trade-off for me. I teach you so you can protect your human pet and I—what? Get to watch you coddle him from the sidelines? As you smile at him and rest your head on his shoulder, all the while knowing it should be me in his place?”

He clucked his tongue and deliberately dropped his hand, retreating a solid step. “I don’t think so.”

It took her a second to get her jaw off the floor, but then a mixture of indignity and fear rushed through her, causing her eyes to narrow.

“Are you serious? You’ve spent all this time trying to get me to come here, and now you’re turning me away?”

“That’s just the thing,” he stated darkly, “you aren’t here, Arden. You’ve come with that boy in mind, and no other reason. If I only wanted half of you, I would have left you mortal. I’ll concede to sharing you with him for a while, but when you’re with me, you have to be with me. Right now, you’re making it far too obvious that you’re doing this all for him. That he’s the only one currently on your mind. Look at you. You can barely maintain eye contact.” His voice lowered and under his breath, so she almost couldn’t hear, he said, “I bet you don’t struggle looking at him.”

Arden blinked. “Are you… jealous?” She tried not to think about how she’d asked that same question of Eskel recently.

“Are you serious?” His glare revealed his distress.

She chewed the inside of her cheek as she mulled that over. Despite his comments about Eskel, she’d known there was an underlying layer of contention. Of course he didn’t actually want her to keep seeing the human. Six months ago, she would have hated the idea of him with someone else, even if that had meant she got to be with him as well.

But this wasn’t six months ago, and things were very different now.

“Alright,” she found herself saying, not stopping to think about the consequences of her next words. “Tell me what you want then. Something within reason.”

If he asked her to give Eskel up, or to sleep with him, or some other such nonsense, she was out. They’d find another way to keep everyone safe, and as for the spell to stop her change… Well, she could live with being an Unseelie.

Hopefully.

“This is a dangerous game you’re playing,” he warned.

“This isn’t a game,” she corrected tightly, hands curling at her sides. “This is my life, Mavek. You’re the only one here playing. You’ve been playing with me since the day we met.”

“It may have started that way,” he surprised her by agreeing, humming in the back of his throat, “but we both know that changed long ago. I don’t consider your life a sport. I don’t want to see you hurting either.”

“Then help me.”

He gave a single shake of his head. “You aren’t the only broken thing here, heart. You aren’t the only one who has lost trust. No matter what promises you make now, what agreements you settle on, how can I be sure you’ll follow through? I won’t help you for his sake.”

“You haven’t even told me what you want yet,” she countered. “How can you be so sure that I won’t just outright reject it?” She ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “Enough. I want your help, and you want to give it to me, so let’s just fast forward this conversation and get to the point.”

“How can you be so certain I want to help you?”

“Because I’m offering you time, Mavek, and we both know it.” She tried to make herself look confident. “It is hard to look at you now. It’s even harder being near you, and no, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t feel like I absolutely had to be.”

“Really strong case you’re making.”

“You wanted me here, and I’m giving you a chance to make that happen,” she snapped. “At least for as long as teaching me all of this takes. I’ll work with your schedule, show up when—”

“I tell you to,” he cut her off. “Whenever I tell you to.”

She hesitated, but only for a split second before nodding in agreement. All of this, and she still didn’t know how she was going to get his blood. Or find one of those candied roses. No matter how she looked at it, she couldn’t decide which was the more impossible task of the two.

He took a single step closer. “You’ll do exactly as I say, Arden. No exceptions.”

“I won’t hurt anyone,” she told him firmly.

“Okay. That’s understandable.”

“So, you’ll do it?”

He grunted. “These were just the terms. Not payment.”

She bristled. “Then what the hell do you want?”

“Kiss me,” he said, stilling when she retreated, merely watching her put space between them. “Before and after a session, you’ll kiss me, Arden. That’s what I want in exchange. Consider it—kisses are hardly a big deal.”

“I’m not going to make out with you in exchange for your help,” she said, feeling her cheeks heat, unsure herself whether it was from anger or… something else.

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not asking you to make out with me, a single kiss before and after will suffice. This doesn’t have to be difficult or racy. We’ll have all the time in the world to act on those thoughts going through your head right now. After this is all settled and done.”

“I don’t—” she stopped herself, inhaling deeply, and tried again, “The only thing I’m thinking about right now is how much I don’t trust you. You could ask for anything, and you just want a kiss?”

“Multiple,” he corrected but she waved her hand in the air.

“Whatever. Still. That’s it? That’s what you’re asking for?”

“Would you like me to ask for something,” his eyes trailed down her body suggestively, getting off on teasing her, “else?”

“If this is another trick—”

“And if it is?”

She paused, and then reminded him, “The last one didn’t go so well for you, Mavek.”

“Try, try again, heart.”

“That isn’t even remotely funny.”

“Who says I’m trying to be?”

“Mavek.”

“Agree,” he slipped his hands back into his pockets, “or don’t. I’ve given you a choice—that thing you’re always saying is so important—so choose. What will it be, Arden Rose Archer? Will it be worth kissing me in order to gain my help?”

Using her name like that was cheating, and they both knew it, but she couldn’t stop the slight rush of relief that came from it. Maybe she was a hypocrite, and maybe he’d worded it like that to prove as much, but she couldn’t bring herself to care in that moment. Her name spoken from his lips meant she didn’t have to worry over what to do, or what was right and what was wrong.

She merely opened her mouth and spoke the truth. “Yes.”

And with that, a deal was struck.

“To tell Eskel, or not to tell Eskel: that is the question,” Arden mumbled as she stacked coffee creamers up on the table.

“Hypocrite,” Tabby grunted. She was sitting across from her, using her mug to warm her hands as the two of them waited for their food to arrive. It was very early in the morning, and the diner was dead.

“Shut up.” Her friend was right, of course, but she hated that Tabitha had just voiced exactly what Arden had been secretly thinking since yesterday when she’d met with Mavek.

When she’d met with him and agreed to the most ridiculous terms ever.

“Come on,” Tabby stirred her coffee, metal spoon clanking loudly against ceramic, “it’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything. The two of you went on one date. Besides, it’s just an exchange, right? You’re only kissing him so he’ll tell you what’s up.”

“That makes me sound like a prostitute,” Arden stated, knocking over the tower she’d just painstakingly created. “That also bothers me. There isn’t even any real ‘training’ involved, apparently. He’s just going to help me figure out which abilities I have and how to access them. Kind of feels like I could have learned that on my own.”

Hadn’t she already checked a few things off that list herself already? She’d been working on the telekinesis whenever she was alone. She was confident she had—mostly—complete control over it now. Other abilities, like seeing in the dark and advanced speed and strength, came naturally whenever she needed them. Aside from maintaining control when she was caught off guard or surprised, that was also something she didn’t need advice on.

Every faerie had different capabilities, and because Mavek had been the one to create her, in a sense he was the only one who might know exactly how many abilities she possessed, and what they were.

“Three sessions are really going to be enough?” Tabby broke into her thoughts, sucking the last bit of whipped cream off her spoon before dropping it back into her mug with a loud clink. “I’m surprised he didn’t draw it out. Should we be worried?”

Arden had also been caught off guard when Mavek had told her they’d only need to meet thrice. A kiss before and after meant a total of six times.

Was six kisses too few, or too many?

Why couldn’t she decide?

“Kind of funny,” Tabby continued, not giving her the chance to speak, “that we freaked out about this for weeks and it turns out it’s really no big deal at all.”

Arden raised a brow, silently waiting for her friend to glance up at her and notice.

“What?” Tabby rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I’m just saying,” she held up three fingers, “this is all it’s going to take for you to get a handle on your… changes, or whatever. This number is nothing. Just bring one of us along and—”

“I have to go alone,” Arden interrupted, and Tabby paused briefly before shrugging.

“Alright. Minor setback. So you go it alone for a bit and then you’re done and hopefully not so vulnerable to attack. Seems like a win to me.”

“For one,” she leaned forward a bit and waved her pointer finger in her friend’s face, somewhat annoyed with the turn of the conversation, “we have no way of knowing if figuring out my abilities will even benefit me in the long run. Knowing might not make incidents like the other night at the party turn out any differently. And two,” and this was the kicker, “if you recall, that’s not even the reason I’m going through with this in the first place.”

Tabby dropped her chin into her palm. “Arden, I love you––you know that––but you’re seriously bad at figuring your shit out.”

Her eyes widened. “Huh?”

“We’ve been sitting here for almost an hour now, and so far you’ve worried about how you’re going to handle being alone with Mavek, and how Eskel is going to take the news once you finally break it to him. Have you even thought about how you’re going to get the Midnight King to bleed for you? Or how to bring up the topic about those candied roses he used on you, and where you can find one without raising suspicion?”

Arden opened her mouth, but shut it a second later.

“That’s what I thought.” Tabby crossed her arms, clearly satisfied with herself. “You and Eskel aren’t together, and he’s already told you he knows damn well that you still have feelings for Mavek. This was the plan—he’ll understand. Your focus should be on the Unseelie and how you’re going to trick him into helping you undo what he’s done. If we succeed, then whether it’s three or three hundred won’t matter. You won’t need lessons on being a fae if you aren’t one anymore. The old you would have better focus than this. Since when did boys become so important?”

She blinked at her, speechless, and Tabby snorted.

“I’m mostly joking, sorry. I didn’t mean that how it sounded, it’s just,” Tabby waved a hand in the air, “you’ve always had this insanely intense focus. I’m used to being jealous of that, but lately—”

“I’m a hot mess?” She grunted and rubbed at her temples. “Yeah, I get it.”

“I’m sorry that I added to the stress of it all. Just know I’ve always had your back, even in the storeroom when I was talking to Cole.”

Now that some time had passed, Arden understood that as well. How could she not? So much had happened to the both of them, naturally they would have their own reactions to it. For Arden, that was a major dive in self-esteem; for Tabby, it had been fear of losing her best friend.

Tabitha was right; Arden should be focusing on the most immediate goal, instead of constantly worrying about Mavek and Eskel. Yet she couldn’t help the way she felt––couldn’t stop the anxiety or the guilt that swamped her every time she thought about how much Mavek had meant to her. How deeply she’d relied on him.

How stupidly she’d allowed him to trick her.

“How are you taking this so well?” Arden grumbled, dropping her head onto the table dramatically.

“I’ve decided to cut the ‘woe is me act’,” her friend explained, and then clicked her tongue in distaste. “You should try it. Look at you. It’s not like you were the one who was almost sacrificed to the Underground, you know.”

“Sure, I just have to kiss the guy who almost sent you there.”

Tabby snorted. “I’ve seen the Midnight King, Arden.”

She lifted her head incredulously. “You can’t actually still find him attractive?” She’d thought Tabby had been joking when she’d implied as much at Tollbooth’s the other day.

“Why not?”

“You were going on and on to Cole about how I’d be a gross monster, yet you’d still do the actual guy who basically almost killed you? Where’s the logic?”

“That sentence was a whole mess,” Tabby pointed out, lifting her half-eaten cookie to wave it in the air before taking a large bite. She really did seem to be taking this all in stride––a serious change from the girl Arden had overheard talking not too long ago.

“I’m not saying I want to make out with Mavek,” Tabby said, completely unaware of Arden’s train of thought, “just that if I had to, like if it was life or death, I totally would. Some people might judge me for that, but who cares what they think? At least I’m being honest with myself. That’s all. Besides, don’t you think maybe this will be a good thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been torn between Mavek and Eskel, right? Maybe this will help you finally figure that out.”

“I can’t be with Mavek, Tabby. Not after—”

She reached across the table and dropped her hand over Arden’s, instantly shutting her up. “I’m not saying you should.”

“Then what are you saying exactly?” She needed it spelled out.

“If this doesn’t work,” Tabby sobered, voice lowering so that there was no chance of being overheard by anyone, “and you can’t stop yourself from becoming completely fae, you’re going to be around a really long time, Arden. Have you thought about that? About what that might mean for you? About who you might need in your corner in order to survive?”

“Honestly… no.” She’d been so focused on coming to terms with fully changing, despite all the effort to prevent that from happening, she hadn’t really stopped to consider that far ahead. “It’s hard enough handling what I am right now.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t abandon you and that I’m such a good friend.” Tabby squeezed her hand, and suddenly that playful air was back and she smiled. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, ever since we made up and I decided to accept any version of you we might end up with—”

“That makes me sound like a mystery box,” Arden said, but her friend didn’t pause.

“—and I’ve realized, Unseelie operate in a completely different world from ours. You’re going to need the backing of a strong fae in order to avoid getting randomly attacked daily. The Midnight King is not a bad ally to have. Be careful not to burn that bridge, just in case.”

There was a strong chance that once she became a full fae, Arden would be attacked and “tested” by curious Unseelie. She felt a little dumb that she hadn’t thought of that herself.

But still.

“Right now, I just want to focus all of my energy on preventing that from happening,” she explained, only to have Tabby violently shake her head in disapproval.

“This is your problem, Arden.”

“I’m getting really sick of people telling me that,” she growled, but was ignored for the second time.

“You hone in on one thing and put blinders on everything else.”

“Wait, weren’t you just saying that’s one of the things you liked about me?” Arden questioned. “I believe the word ‘jealous’ was even used?”

Tabby waved her off. “You have to be prepared for the worst, and in that case, that’s failing to stop the change. The full moon is in less than two weeks, that’s going to pass in a blink,” she snapped her fingers, causing Arden to jump a little in her seat, “and then what? You’ll have to scramble to pick up the pieces and come up with a new survival plan.”

“I suppose that’s what I’ll do then.” She’d always lived that way––day to day. She’d learned at a young age that it was impossible to ever truly know what tomorrow would bring, especially when the Unseelie were involved. Because of that, she’d always focused on the present.

But…

Last year, she’d decided to join the Tithe, and look how that had turned out. In the end, when she’d lost, she’d had no backup plan. She may not be able to predict everything, but it couldn’t hurt to be somewhat prepared.

“See,” Tabby pointed at her as she watched acceptance flash across Arden’s face, “you know I’m right.”

“I can’t talk about this anymore.” Understanding that she needed to change her perspective and actually doing so were two different things, and she was still coming down from the terrifying adrenaline rush she’d experienced with Mavek. “There’s a reason I fixate. I can’t handle everything at once.”

She could barely handle anything at all.

“Arden…” Eskel’s voice trailed off on the other end of the phone and she found herself holding her breath. It was cowardly, telling him about her new plan with Mavek this way, but she’d known she’d be unable to look him in the eye.

The icy night air gusted against her cheeks, causing a shiver to race down her spine and her shoulders to curve involuntarily inward. Her knees were pressed to her chest and she dropped her chin to them, relishing the bit of warmth it brought to her wind-burned face. Inside, she could hear the muffled voices of Tabitha and her family from where they sat in the living room. Arden had retreated to the front porch a little while ago in order to get some semblance of privacy for her talk with Eskel.

It was nice of Tabby’s parents to let her stay here—though they believed it was only until she got her window fixed—but it’d been a long time since Arden had had to share space with so many other people. Lately, she found herself feeling antsy and anxious more than half the time. Now that they’d struck a deal, her hope was that she could convince Mavek to let her go back home and—

She straightened rigidly, despite another sharp blow of wind against her body. Arden didn’t need Mavek’s permission. Shit. When was she going to stop habitually relying on him?

“Arden?” the tone of Eskel’s voice changed, and she grimaced, realizing her mind had wandered.

“Yeah?” She’d just explained her deal with Mavek to him, having decided against lying to him or withholding any information. She’d made sure to mention the kissing aspect of that conversation as well. There were already so many things between them––dividing them––she didn’t want secrets to be another one. She wasn’t really sure when he’d become so important to her, if it’d been before the Tithe, or after. Sharing intense, adrenaline rushing moments like that was said to force people closer.

Could she even trust what she was feeling for him?

Could she trust anything she’d ever felt for anyone ever?

“What am I to you, Arden?”

For a split second, her mind blanked and she was certain she’d misheard him. It was almost like he’d known exactly what she’d been thinking, and it took her a while to get her racing heart under control and clear her throat. Only so she could dumbly reply back, “What?”

He sighed heavily on the other end, the sound followed by shuffling noises. It sounded like he was lying in bed in his dorm room. “I know I keep telling you I’m fine with waiting, but you have to give me something. Do I even stand a chance here, or are we just friends? Which is it? I’ll still help you, even if the answer is you don’t like me, but—”

“I like you,” she blurted, only realizing maybe she shouldn’t have once the words were out there and it was too late to take them back.

Of course she liked him, he’d been nothing but patient and kind and caring, even with everything that was happening. At first, she’d thought that he was sticking around simply to get revenge for his brother, and maybe that was still part of it, but she’d realized that his feelings for her were genuine. That was the scary part.

“The last guy I liked turned out to be—” how did she even describe Mavek? “—wrong.”

“Are you afraid I’ll end up being a creepy possessive jerk as well?” Eskel asked, and she could hear the frown in his voice, the slightest hint of insult.

“No,” she said, “it’s got nothing to do with you personally. I’m afraid of my own judgment.”

That was the greatest thing Mavek had taken from her. She doubted herself now with everything. Doubted whether or not she was a good friend, whether or not she was a good person. Whether or not she could continue like this, or if she would be able to survive as a fae.

“I used to be so confident,” she told him, leaning back to glance up at the inky night sky. There were more stars than she could count, and for a brief second, a longing ached within her–– the need to be that open and free causing her breath to stutter and tears to threaten at the corners of her eyes. “I grew up taking care of myself and my sister. I’ve been independent for years, making my own decisions. Deciding what was best for me.”

“You thought that was the Tithe,” he caught on.

“Yeah.” She’d foolishly believed that one thing could change the entire course of her life.

“It was one mistake, Arden.”

She grunted. “One I’ll be paying for forever. Possibly literally.”

He was quiet for a moment and then, “Do you want to kiss him?”

She blinked, turning away from the stars, and frowned at the darkness across the street. Instinctually, she wanted to deny it. Logically, after everything he’d done, she shouldn’t want to kiss Mavek anymore. But Eskel deserved more than just a half-assed answer that may or may not be the truth.

For weeks now, she’d struggled with that very question, trying to figure out how many of her feelings were real and how many were rooted in manipulation. Half of the things Mavek had told her during their time together had been lies; weeding out fact from fiction had kept her up most nights. The fact that she still cared so much––that she wanted so badly to discover what had been real––made her feel guilty.

“When we first met,” Eskel began, pulling her from her tumbling thoughts, “I remember thinking you were the most confident person on the planet. You were so sure of yourself, so comfortable in your own skin. You were strong, Arden.”

His words stung, but before she could respond, he continued. “You still are. We can’t all be sure of ourselves every single moment. It’s okay to not be sure of things. It’s okay to take chances and make mistakes.”

“My mistakes can get people killed,” she reminded him.

“I want to kiss you.”

She froze all over again, breath catching in her lungs.

“Maybe it’ll be a mistake,” he said. “Maybe, at the end of all of this, you’ll still choose him, despite everything he’s done. Maybe you think I’m weak and pathetic for sticking around even knowing that. Maybe it’s stupid of me, to willingly love you, even knowing you might not ever return my feelings. There are so many maybe’s in the world, Arden, so many what-ifs and uncertainties. What I know though, what I trust, is that I’ve already lost to the fae before, and I won’t ever let them take anything from me again without a fight. I know what it’s like to be left behind, to ache for someone that’s no longer there. So it’s okay. I can handle being in a one-sided love, if that’s what I have to do. I’ll be fine if you can only give me that, if all you can let me do is stay near you. I couldn’t protect Everett. Letting me help protect you can be enough.”

“I’m not the same person I was before.” If that’s who he was holding on to, she couldn’t guarantee she’d ever be that girl again.

“None of us are the same person we were yesterday.”

“Eskel…” He’d just told her he loved her. He’d told her he loved her and she… didn’t know what to say. Or how to feel. Absently, she pressed her palm against her heart, realizing it was thumping wildly in her chest and that suddenly she was burning up.

“Please, Arden,” he practically breathed the words into the phone then, and she understood that she wasn’t the only one shaken. “If that’s all you can give me, I’ll accept that. But you have to let me know. You have to give me something. Do you just like me as a friend? Do I even stand a chance?”

“Maybe you’re too good for me,” she whispered.

“Maybe I am,” he agreed quickly, and for some strange reason, she found herself laughing at that. “But I get to decide who I love. I’m the only one who can decide whether that’s right or wrong for me. No one else. It’s the same for you. It’s your choice. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

It wasn’t hard for her to read between the lines, for her to figure out that he was telling her it would be okay if she told him right now that she was still in love with Mavek. That he’d accept her feelings and wouldn’t judge her for them.

He would still be her friend, even if she rejected him for a monster.

“I can’t trust my own emotions,” she admitted, the tension radiating from his end of the line as she spoke. “I can’t be sure if what I want right now is what I’ll want tomorrow, or if it’s right or wrong in general. I can’t give you any absolutes, but… if you were here right now, I would kiss you.”

Maybe that was unfair of her to say. Despite everything he’d just told her, or because of it, perhaps she shouldn’t tell him that, even if it was the truth. Maybe Eskel Montgomery really was too damn good for her. Maybe it didn’t matter.

“I want to kiss you,” she said, and for the first time in a long time, there was something she was certain of.

Their first kiss was brief, barely a brushing of lips before they both pulled back and Mavek turned from the doorway and led her into the manor. Silently, Arden trailed behind him, ringing her hands before shoving them into her coat pockets. Before they’d reached the kitchen, she’d pulled them out again, all her nervous energy making her fidget.

She should be glad that the beginning of their deal had been so mellow––that he hadn’t insisted on prolonging the kiss. Instead, it put her even more on edge.

Was this another trap? Did he want her to let her guard down? Why? All of these questions circled her mind, causing her heart to speed up and her anxiety to swell, almost to the point that she was tempted to spin on her heels and run the opposite direction. Except that would be stupid, not only because this was necessary, but also because she’d already paid for the first half of today’s session with him. That kiss had to mean something.

She would make it mean something.

“What are we doing in here?” she asked once they were both standing in the center of the kitchen, next to the same table where she’d found Cole and Titania that night. She glanced at it disapprovingly, noting the odd assortment of glass bottles before turning her attention to the Midnight King.

“We’re starting with the basics,” Mavek explained. “Not all Unseelie have the ability to move things without touching them, but I’ve been told you’ve already displayed this several times.”

“I’ve pretty much got that one covered,” she said, not wanting to sound cocky, but also hoping to skip ahead. Being alone with him like this was more than awkward and unsettling. It made it especially difficult to figure out how she was going to get him to leave her alone long enough to search the pantries for those candied roses.

After talking it over with her friends, they’d come to the conclusion that searching the kitchen first was the smartest play. After all, it was technically a food item. If she couldn’t find them on her own, then she’d have to resort to the more dangerous Plan B: bringing it up to Mavek. But only if. The fact that he’d led her straight to the one room she wanted to be in made her a bit suspicious, but she tried not to let on. She looked at him evenly, but in the back of her mind she wondered if he had somehow found out why she was really there.

Mavek exhaled. “I’m not going to do anything to you. We agreed on terms and I’ve promised to stick to them. We’re only here to help you understand who you are.”

“What I can do and who I am aren’t the same thing,” she disagreed.

“What you do makes you who you are,” he countered. “Aren’t we all judged by our actions? You’re the one always telling me that.”

She ignored him, instead sweeping an arm out to the table. “What’s all this for then?”

“You’re going to move it,” he told her, pointing to the other side of the room, “from over there.”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and moved to stand where he’d instructed. Without waiting for him to join her, she chose one of the glass bottles, a tan one with a long neck, and thought about it sliding into the green one behind it. A second later, the two of them clanked loudly against each other and she gave him a bored look. “Next?”

“I’m not impressed,” he said.

“I moved it, didn’t I?”

“Sure,” he stepped up to her side, “but how well can you perform when there’s a distraction? Unseelie aren’t going to stop an attack to give you the time to compose yourself, Arden. Lesson number one.”

This wasn’t the first time he had trained her. Back then, he’d been teaching her how to be a Heartless––how to defend herself against his kind and resist faerie magic. Now he was teaching her the opposite. Arden almost snorted at the irony. Suddenly, he leaned in close, edging into her personal space until she tensed next to him.

“Do it again,” he instructed, and for an embarrassing moment, she had no idea what he was talking about. “Again, Arden.”

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and dug her nails into the flesh of her palms. All of her attention landed on a clear bottle on the right side of the table, one of the furthest ones from where they stood. It was childish, but she wanted to prove something to him.

To herself, really.

“Don’t hold your breath,” Mavek said, the words coming out in hot bursts of air from lips that caressed the curve of her ear.

She held back a shiver, curling her toes in her boots, and forced herself not to let his nearness affect her. Part of her wanted to lean into him, while the other part felt disgusted. This constant split within herself was a struggle, and Eskel’s words from the other night raced through her mind. She’d told him she wanted to kiss him, and she’d meant it. If she focused on that, perhaps she could convince herself that it didn’t matter what she felt for the dark fae.

“Breathe, heart.” Mavek planted a heavy palm at the narrow of her back, helping to steady her even though the contact sent her heart ricocheting in her chest. Was he using sway right now, or was it just her?

The glass jar across the table shook, clattering lightly against the wooden surface. She inhaled sharply and then sent it careening off the edge with little to no extra thought at all. The glass shattered on the wood floor.

“I told you I could handle this now,” she said, twisting out of his grasp and stepping off to the side in a poor attempt to put space between them.

The corner of his mouth tipped up slightly. He moved closer, trapping her between him and the table, smirk turning into a full-blown grin when she instinctually narrowed her eyes and glared warningly at him.

“Relax, Arden,” he laughed. “I already assured you. Our agreement was for one kiss before and after our sessions. I won’t break it.”

“It’s hard to relax when you’re around,” she told him, hands clenching at her sides as his grin only widened. “Don’t take that the wrong way. It’s because I don’t trust you. No other reason but.”

He lifted a dark brow. “Should I test you on that? Use your name against you and force the truth? I’ll admit, I’m curious to know.”

She batted his hand away when he started to tuck her hair behind her ear. With a heavy sigh, he stepped back, twisting to lean against the edge of the table, now next to her instead of blocking her in. “You’re no fun anymore, heart.”

“You made me this way.”

His expression darkened.

“I was never around to entertain you, Mavek. That was never my intention, or my purpose. I’m a living creature, not a toy for you to mess around with.”

He opened his mouth, perhaps to make another joke, before smartly reconsidering. Instead, he shook his head and straightened, dusting off his jeans, before turning toward a closed door on the other side of the room. She frowned as he strode over, wondering what in the storage closet could be of use to them. When he opened the door, she blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

A tall, lanky faerie she’d never met before stood cramped within the small confines of the closet. His shoulders were hunched, head tucked against his chest just so he could fit. It did not look like a comfortable position to be in.

“What… How long… Why was he in there?” Her cheeks started to stain pink from embarrassment—how much had that fae overheard just now?—but she tried to collect herself as the Unseelie bowed his head to Mavek and then passed the threshold into the kitchen.

“He only just arrived,” Mavek told her, and she was about to ask how that was even possible but he continued over her. “He’s here to serve a purpose and nothing more, don’t pay him any mind beyond that.”

She cocked her head, frown still in place, and when he didn’t elaborate she waved at the Unseelie pointedly. “What exactly is that purpose?”

“You’re going to use sway on him.”

“Huh?” Arden was sure she’d misheard, leaning a little closer as if that would somehow help. “You mean I’m going to break out of his sway? Seems kind of redundant, don’t you think?” Resisting faerie magic took strong will, not power. Anyone could be trained to do it.

“I didn’t misspeak.” He motioned toward the Unseelie and sat on the edge of the table once more, crossing his arms for good measure. “You’re going to use sway on him. Convince him to do something, anything.”

“I don’t…” She glanced between the two of them. “I don’t have sway, Mavek.”

“Of course you do.”

“No—”

He sighed dramatically, instantly cutting her off. “As you’ve already stated, I made you. I know what you are and are not capable of. Do you really think I’d leave you vulnerable like that?”

“Only the most powerful Unseelie have the ability to use sway on others of their kind,” she reminded him, as if he was dumb and had forgotten.

“Yes, and you are my creature, Arden Archer. My power is what’s making you what you are, and I’m one of the most powerful fae in this world. Once your change is complete, you’ll be an extension of me, with all the same gifts and advantages.” A light glimmered in his eyes. “With the same station and power.”

“Mavek…” She wasn’t quite sure what she intended to say; it felt like her world was tipping on its axis. No wonder he’d been so confident that he could help explain every single one of her newly forming abilities.

“I’ve given you all that I have,” he said, voice low, intimate. “My goal has always been for us to be equals, Arden. I told you before that you wouldn’t stay angry at me forever.”

This was why he’d been so certain of that fact. She didn’t know how to take that.

“Give up on those childish notions of stopping the change,” he told her, half-smirk returning, “if only so you can try to best me later. Wouldn’t that be the greatest form of revenge, heart? I’ve harmed you, but I’ve also armed you. I’ve made it so that soon, no one will stand above you. Not even me. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted, really? Deep down, you’ve had a single desire your whole life.” He held her gaze. “To be free.”

“Get out,” the words were barely audible, but they hung heavy between them. When no one moved, her eyes shot toward the other Unseelie, narrowing slightly. In a firmer tone, she ordered, “Leave.”

The fae glanced at Mavek questioningly, waiting for him to approve the command. The move sparked an anger within her, and the tension and anxiety that had been building this whole time tightened until it felt like a separate entity clawing at her insides.

“I said,” she commanded, as she let the familiar buzzing sensation momentarily consume her, “Get. Out.”

She watched as his shoulders stiffened and his eyes glazed over. For a second, his lips pursed and it looked like he was struggling internally with something. Then, his right foot slid backward, followed shortly by the left, until he was retreating to the doorway that led into the hall. Just before he reached the threshold, he managed a short bow in their direction and then swiveled on his heels and left without a second glance.

It wasn’t until he was gone that Arden realized she’d broken out in a cold sweat. Her hands were shaking, palms damp, and for a brief moment her stomach rolled and she feared she was about to throw up. All at once, the reaction dissipated, fading away as quickly as it’d hit her. By the time she shot her gaze back to Mavek, eyes wide and disbelieving, she felt fine.

No, better than fine. She felt fantastic. There was enough energy in her body to run a mile.

“What the…?”

“You used sway,” he said, and then canted his head, inspecting her. “And you’ve done it before.”

“No, I—” She stopped, brow furrowing slightly. “Yes, I have.”

Back at the aquarium, when she’d been speaking to that fir darrig. Eskel had even pointed it out—scary, had been the term he’d used. She hadn’t realized what she’d done then, but now it was crystal clear.

“How could I do that without knowing?”

“Breathe, Arden Archer,” he repeated, and when she glanced up he was smiling softly at her. “There’s nothing to fear; you’ll know yourself again soon. I’ll teach you who you are.”

The fact that he knew exactly what was bothering her made the hairs on her arms rise. It was comforting that he understood her even when she was struggling so hard to understand herself, and she hated it.

“Breathe,” he said again, lower this time, almost silkily. His smile turned devilish. “Breathe, then come and kiss me.”

“Where are you staying now that the dorms are shutting down for winter break?” Arden asked as they walked past the empty school buildings. Campus was quiet, with only the sound of the wind whistling around them and the occasional passing car.

“I put in a request to stay,” Eskel told her, picking up the pace as they neared his car in the empty library parking lot. “They keep the heat on to prevent frozen pipes and stuff, and there are a couple other students sticking around so it worked out.”

“That’s good.” She’d met him in front of his dorm building a few minutes ago, and felt a slight pang of guilt that she hadn’t thought to ask him about his living arrangements sooner.

Eskel unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for her. Once they were both inside, he flicked on the heat then grabbed her hands and cupped them. He ignored her look as he began blowing on them gently, rubbing them between his equally frozen fingers.

“Why didn’t you wear gloves?” He clucked his tongue and then paused before reaching into the backseat and pulling a yellow gift bag into the front. Arden took it when he held it out to her, frowning as she peered down into the tuft of forest-green paper that stuck out of the top. “What’s this?”

“Nothing really,” he shrugged and then put the car into reverse and began to head toward the road.

She hesitated a moment, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. The paper crinkled as she dug through it, fingers wrapping around something smooth. When she pulled out a pair of black leather gloves, she couldn’t hold back her laugh.

“It’s getting cold,” Eskel said, as if that explained everything. He didn’t meet her gaze, keeping his eyes straight ahead in an attempt to avoid her. She couldn’t help but smile; why was it cute that he was embarrassed?

“You do realize that as an Unseelie, I won’t feel the cold the same way, right?” The fae didn’t feel it to the same extent as humans; the temperature needed to drop a lot lower.

“You’re still human for now.” He licked his lips. “Speaking of, though, how did it go yesterday?”

She was in the process of popping the tags off the gloves, and she paused at the question. “I didn’t get a chance to look for the candied roses. We were in the kitchen too, but he never left me alone, and our session didn’t last anywhere near as long as I thought it would.”

By the end, she’d been in the manor less than forty-five minutes, hardly enough time to complete a search and seizure.

“I think we might need to come up with a distraction,” she suggested. “But not yet. Let’s wait and see if I can get the other items first.” If she couldn’t get his blood, it wouldn’t matter even if they did find the candied roses. “I still have no clue how I’m going to do that.”

“He’s training you,” he pointed out. “There’s got to be some kind of hand-to-hand combat involved. Maybe you can… nick him with something?”

It wasn’t a horrible plan. “How do I collect the blood though?”

“Try this.” Eskel dug into his pocket and pulled out a small glass vial no bigger than her pinky. “Just, you know, don’t get caught.”

“Good advice.” She took the vial, glad that he’d thought ahead. At least one of them was taking this seriously. “I acknowledge that I should be better prepared for this.”

“You’ve got a lot on your mind.”

“And you don’t?”

“When are you going back?” He pulled the car in front of the diner. They’d agreed to get lunch, just the two of them, and though it wasn’t officially a date, it sort of felt like one anyway.

Which was partly why Arden didn’t really want to continue talking about Mavek.

“Tomorrow,” she answered, undoing her seat belt. “Since the full moon is coming up, I convinced him to get this done as quickly as possible. It helped that I’ve been attacked a couple times already; he was easy enough to convince.”

“What about…” Eskel shut the car off and twisted his keys in his hands. After a brief pause, he shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Our lips barely touched for more than a second,” Arden told him, understanding his hesitation. “Before and after. It was extremely uneventful as far as kisses go, and I didn’t feel anything.”

Internally she started, realizing that was the truth. There had been no spark when Mavek had pressed his lips to hers. Maybe that was due to how short it’d been, or the fact that she’d been too nervous about everything else. Either way, it was progress, in a sense. She would have killed for a brief kiss from him a year ago. Now, it was like nothing had even happened. She certainly hadn’t been thinking about it. Instead, she’d tossed and turned in Tabby’s room last night with thoughts of lunch with Eskel keeping her awake.

Eskel grinned and glanced away before saying, “I’m starving. Let’s go eat?”

Arden nodded her head and they both got out of the car. On their way up the side ramp leading to the diner’s front door, he held his hand out to her.

She took it.

Arden found him in the greenhouse.

He’d disappeared some twenty minutes ago while she’d been practicing sway on a few hobgoblins on the porch—being outside in the cold helped motivate her to keep focus. She’d been so caught up in making them stand on one foot and spin in circles that she hadn’t even noticed he was gone. Truthfully, she’d snuck to the greenhouse to pluck a few rose petals without him noticing, but since he was here…

Mavek was carefully rubbing the silky petals of a flower between his fingers, gaze drawn to the motion as if in a trance. When she shifted on her feet, the subtle sound had his eyes lifting ever so slightly, catching the light so that the tapetum lucidum behind his retinas momentarily winked like polished silver.

“Do you remember the first time I brought you here?” he asked softly, the corner of his mouth turning up even as he glanced back down at the rose.

Even though she’d agreed to hear him out about the Tithe, it’d taken her a great deal longer to trust him enough to willingly show up at his home. It had been at least a month into knowing him, and the first place he’d shown her was this greenhouse. At the time, she’d thought it was because it was outdoors and he’d wanted to give her some semblance of reassurance—she could easily leave any time she wanted. She wasn’t trapped behind closed doors or thick walls.

She almost snorted at the thought now. It’d been a manipulation of her feelings in order to placate her and ease her into a false sense of security.

“I was fascinated by the way you walked between the rows,” he continued, unaware of the dark turn her thoughts had taken, “how you tried to take in everything all at once.” He chuckled. “I was amused that your middle name shared something so intimate with me. Thought it was fate that must have brought us together.”

“As fun as this conversation is—” she began, only to be swiftly cut off.

“I’ve never loved someone before, Arden Rose Archer. At first, I didn’t understand what was going on. Thoughts of you would keep me up all night and distract me all day. Little things would remind me of the way you tuck your hair behind your ear, or the way your lips curve when you smile. It was an altogether strange occurrence for me, and it took some time to figure out what it all meant.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked. “Why now?”

He paused for a brief moment, then finally dropped the flower and stepped away from the row of bushes he was standing in front of. “Because I want to give you as much truth as I can.”

“Which means,” she surmised, catching the look in his eyes, “you’re going to be giving me more lies soon. Or you already have.”

His silence was all the answer she needed.

“You can’t make up for the past, Mavek.”

“I can try.”

“A good place to start is by not creating more bad memories you’ll later hope to erase.”

“Is that a suggested step in the right direction, or a warning?”

“If you’re asking me if I’m giving you advice on how to regain my favor, the answer is a definitive no. As far as I’m concerned, whatever may or may not have been between us before is over and done with.”

That was the truth. It had to be.

It’d taken her a long time to get there, but thinking about laughing over pancakes with Eskel yesterday helped her keep vigil over her reactions. All of those lingering feelings for the Midnight King might not have vanished overnight, but she controlled her own emotions and how she acted on them. Regardless of whether or not she successfully broke this new curse––whether or not she was able to remain human––that fact wouldn’t change.

“Things don’t die so easily, Arden. No matter how badly we wish they would.” He turned so that his body was fully facing hers. “Do you think I didn’t try before setting all of this into motion? Do you think, after I realized what I was feeling for you, I just took it in stride? I did not. I tried to get you out of my system, desperately one might even say. If I couldn’t shake you then, it certainly isn’t a possibility now.” His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “You feel the same.”

“I don’t,” she was quick to deny, hands fisting tightly where she had them tucked into the pockets of her coat.

“What if I proved myself again?” he asked. “What if I did something to show you that I was sincere?”

“Don’t.” She shook her head, already dreading what that could mean. “Just stay still and keep your word. I’m only here because you promised to teach me what I needed to know about being a fae. That’s it.”

“What if something you need to know is how to trust your regent?”

“Enough with the dumb what-ifs,” she snapped. “I highly doubt all of your fae actually trust you.”

He lifted a shoulder. “Even if they don’t, they know better than to act out. They know they don’t have a choice but to follow me.”

“Careful,” she warned, “you’re starting to sound hypocritical.”

The corner of his mouth turned up, and he angled his face away, feigning interest in the flowers once more. Arden wondered how long he’d been in here, what he’d been thinking about before she’d arrived. It’d been so long since she’d experienced him like this, in those quiet, still moments. Whenever they were together now, they clashed, their tongues sharp as daggers. Part of her felt badly, wistfully wishing to turn back the clock. She had to pause and remind herself that it was his fault.

“I wonder if it would help if I begged,” he murmured.

Arden frowned. “What?”

He seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts, gaze hardening with a gleam of determination. “If I got down on my knees and pleaded for forgiveness, would you grant it then? Is that the way out of this? I’d belittle myself before you, if that’s what you need from me.”

He was so sincere, and his offer was so shocking, that it took her a moment to wrap her head around it. She took her time considering his words—not because she actually believed having him beg would help, but because the end part of his statement had her wondering herself.

What did she need from him?

An end to turning Unseelie was the obvious answer, but when she thought about it, that didn’t really feel right to her. Wants were one thing. Needs were visceral, filled with desperation and urgency. Arden didn’t want to become one of them, but she had to admit––even if only to herself––she was now prepared to. Whenever she thought about Mavek, there was always one thing that constantly echoed in her brain. One thing she felt desperate about.

“I need you to turn back time and not do what you did,” she whispered, the words falling off her lips slowly. She felt like a traitor to her friends, for yearning for something so foolish.

All for purely selfish reasons.

Mavek stared at her, and there might have even been a flash of regret in his hazel eyes, but she didn’t want to give him the chance to reply. She wasn’t finished unloading this heavy secret she’d carried with her all this time, one she hadn’t really wanted to acknowledge.

“I like Eskel,” she confessed, even though he was already aware of that fact. “A lot, actually. I like the way he makes me feel, like I’m valid. I like his loyalty, and his strength, and the way he tries to understand other people instead of just applying his own thoughts to their actions.”

“Arden—”

“I like Eskel,” she repeated, ignoring the way his nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. “But I can’t be with him because of you. I can’t trust that what I feel for him is real, because I can’t trust any of my feelings, about anything at all. I fell in love with a monster, and now I’m paying the price, and the boy that I like is paying as well. So,” she took a shaky breath, “I need you to turn back time and not do what you did. Don’t trick me into signing up for the Tithe. Don’t betray me. Don’t turn me into the stuff of nightmares against my will.”

Erasing him from her life was the only solution she could see at this point, but saying point-blank that she wished they’d never met was cruel and dangerous. Still, that didn’t stop her from saying her next words.

“If you can’t do that, then tell me it’s okay,” she forced herself to hold his gaze, when all she wanted to do was look away. “I need you to tell me I can be with Eskel. No threats attached. No deals. No strings. Just… let me go, Mavek. I can’t take being hurt by you anymore.”

That was the root of it all, really. Arden had lost both of her parents, been forced to send her sister away for her own protection, and what she’d been left with was him. Mavek had been more than just a faerie she spent time with or worked for. More than someone who was going to help her break a curse. More than someone she’d merely had a crush on.

When there’d been no hope and no one around to hear her cry, he’d been there. She wouldn’t have overcome her grief over her mother’s death if she hadn’t had the Tithe to focus all of her energy on. Sure, it’d been a lie, but at the time she hadn’t known that, and even though she’d never admit it to him, maybe that lie had been just what she’d needed.

But a lie was still a lie, and although he’d once been the only person she could rely on, he wasn’t anymore.

He stared at her, shocked, mouth opening once only to snap shut again. Her words had stung, and she watched as he struggled when usually he spoke so effortlessly. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he turned to face her, left hand reaching out.

Before he made contact, however, they both heard a whooshing sound at his back. He turned just as she tilted her head toward it, their curiosity mutual. Something whizzed through the gaps of plastic in one of the windows, sailing through the air lightning-quick.

Mavek had her wrapped in his arms and was twisting them out of the way faster than she could blink. He pressed her back against a row of roses, the thorns pricking and sticking into the material of her coat. He hissed slightly, mouth close to her ear, and pulled back, eyes scanning the other side of the greenhouse until they landed on the arrow imbedded in the wood.

The arrow that had just come through the window.

“Did someone just…?” The question was stupid, but Arden floundered with the notion that someone had just shot an arrow at them. Or more aptly, at her.

“Stay here,” he told her, moving toward the door almost as quickly as the arrow had flown through. He didn’t pause to glance at it a second time as he passed, slipping out the door and disappearing around the side of the building before she had a chance to inhale.

Arden stepped away from the roses, intent on following despite his order, but the sharp hint of copper in the air gave her pause. She recognized the smell of blood but had never been able to smell it this strongly before, and with a frown she turned back, trying to find the source. Her eyes widened some when she did.

Hanging heavily from the curve of a vibrant green thorn was a single drop of blood. She hadn’t been injured, protected by her coat, but Mavek’s hands had been at her back, right against the sharp stems….

She fumbled with the vial in her pocket, her hands shaking as she brought it under the drop and ripped the leaf off the stem. She shoved it into the vial, staring at the red-stained leaf through the glass. What were the odds that she’d get two of the items she needed at once?

She bit her lip, and fought against a wave of guilt. Mavek had bled because he’d saved her from an arrow just now. No, she steeled herself, Mavek had bled because he’d tricked her into all of this. Arden slipped the vial into her pocket, stepped back into place, and waited for the Midnight King to return.

“And you don’t know who fired the arrow?” Eskel added a large heap of sugar to one of the coffee cups in front of him and stirred, the spoon clinking against the ceramic.

Arden had taken the risk and shown up earlier, confident that Mavek was too busy hunting down an answer to the question Eskel had just posed to bother following her. He wouldn’t like that she was visiting the human, but Arden was past the point of caring. It was interesting, the difference in the way she thought of things now compared to a mere few weeks ago.

“You shouldn’t have let me in,” she deflected, smiling in thanks when he handed her the mug with less sugar. The coffee was hot, almost burning her tongue when she sipped it, and she sighed contentedly as she wrapped her chilled hands around it. She’d only just come from the icy night outside, and was grateful that he’d snuck a coffee maker into the dorms—appliances like that typically weren’t allowed—because even with the heat blasting she felt cold to the bone.

“I’ll always let you in, Arden,” he told her, but when she looked up to frown at him, he was already turning away. He moved back toward the other side of the small room, pushing the chair off to the side so that he could perch on the edge of the desk and face her. After taking a gulp of his own coffee, he said, “Tell me more about what happened.”

She sighed, settling more comfortably on his bed. “That’s it.”

“You really have no idea who it could have been? Mavek just came back to the greenhouse and told you the person got away and you should head home?” He pursed his lips, brow drawing together in consternation. “I don’t like it.”

“If he found the person, there’s no reason he could have for keeping it from me,” Arden began, only to have him shake his head.

“That’s not what I mean. He just… sent you home? Alone? After that? Doesn’t that seem odd to you? If you’d just been attacked in front of me, I wouldn’t leave you alone for a second.”

She had to admit, she’d had that same thought when Mavek had insisted she go home instead of staying with him. Arden had expected him to demand she stay the night so he could watch over her, had even been in the process of brainstorming excuses. He’d surprised her when he not only hadn’t offered but had even gone so far as to tell her to leave.

He’d planted his lips against hers almost as an afterthought, before walking out the greenhouse door a second time, putting an end to their training session. She’d watched him go without a second glance back.

“What if you weren’t the target?” Eskel suggested. “If the arrow had been meant for him, and he knew it, that would make a little more sense.”

“Who would be bold enough to try something like that?” They both knew the answer. Finch had to have been behind it. That also helped explain why Mavek would have wanted her as far away from there as possible. Even he would struggle in a fight against the Crown Prince.

Eskel snorted. “Isn’t attacking you at this point the same as going for the Midnight King anyway? He considers you his.”

She made a face at him. “Don’t ever say something like that again. Wow.”

“He does,” he mumbled, trying to mask the words with the rim of the coffee cup as he brought it up for another sip.

“In any case,” Arden didn’t think talking about this would help solidify any of their guesses, “Mavek would have sent his people to investigate by now, so whether I was the target or he was, he’ll find out and let me know.”

“He said as much?”

She nodded. “I made him swear to it. He wants me to trust him again, so keeping me in the loop and not lying is a way to do that. Or so I told him, anyway.”

Eskel tilted his head, eyeing her quietly for a moment before saying, “Isn’t that the truth though?”

“What do you mean?” She shifted uncomfortably.

“Isn’t that the way trust is typically built? He proves himself to you, and eventually you—”

“I’m not going to forgive him for the things he’s done,” she cut him off. “I told him that much as well. Some things are unforgivable. Look at all the trouble we’re going through now. Tabby and I had our first big fight in years, you’re threatened wherever you go, and Cole’s been so scarred he’s practically a different person lately.”

“And you’re stronger and better equipped to protect us, and yourself.”

“You don’t mean that.” He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t matter.

“Arden…” Eskel bit his bottom lip, hesitating. After a moment, he exhaled and visibly braced himself before meeting her gaze head-on once more. “Are you really sure about all this? Do you… really want to stop yourself from changing all the way?”

She blinked at him, certain she’d misheard. “Huh?”

“It’s just,” he rubbed at the back of his neck and then placed his cup down on the desk with a loud smack, “you’ve said it yourself before. You thought getting rid of the sight was what you wanted, but then after the Tithe you realized you were wrong and couldn’t live your life not seeing. Are you sure that isn’t the case with this? This past week you’ve seemed… okay with it. With the things you can do. Excited even.”

She’d told him in detail about her sessions with Mavek and how her abilities were getting stronger. She hadn’t realized that she’d sounded “excited” while doing so though.

He straightened and held up both hands. “You don’t have to answer me—that’s not why I brought it up. I just… Whatever you decide in the end, I’ll stand by you, okay? Even if it’s… becoming one of them. You won’t, like, lose me because of that. Alright?”

“You’re stuttering.” It was stupid, but it was the only thing she could think to say. Eskel didn’t stutter; he was usually so careful and controlled with his words that she sometimes felt like a fumbling idiot in front of him. Even when they flirted and he blushed, he always seemed in control of himself. Now though, he seemed unsure––maybe even awkward––and wouldn’t look her in the eyes, instead gazing around the room and rubbing his hands excessively on his thighs.

Arden stood and he crossed his arms, only to drop them back at his sides once he seemed to realize what he’d done. She frowned.

“Are you broken or something?”

His eyes shot to hers so fast it was a wonder he didn’t get whiplash. “What?”

“Why are you acting so strange? Is it because you think I’ll get upset?”

“Aren’t you?” He tilted his head, inspecting her. “I’m sure I overstepped. It’s just… I had to say it. In case.”

“In case what?”

“In case I was one of the reasons you were trying so hard to do this.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he groaned and rubbed at his face. “That sounded so arrogant.”

“You know that I like you,” it’s not like it was a secret, “and I know that you like me. You’ve told me that wouldn’t change if I was an Unseelie, Eskel.”

“Do you believe me?”

“Yes.” She didn’t even have to think about her answer. Maybe at first, she hadn’t believed him. She’d thought he was just trying to make her feel better, to reassure her. But as the days had ticked by and they’d constantly come up empty handed, she’d started to trust there was more to it than that. When she really thought about it, hadn’t she been in love with an Unseelie herself? If anyone knew it was possible, she did.

Eskel wouldn’t turn away from her just because they failed to keep her from turning fae—that was the one thing she was sure of now. It made all of this just a little bit more bearable. Arden wondered if she could tell him any of that though. Yes, she liked Eskel Montgomery, maybe even more than liked him, but liking him didn’t mean those feelings for Mavek were wiped completely clean. As much as she hated it, they still lingered. Was it fair to give Eskel more hope when she hadn’t fully cleared the Midnight King out of her system?

She had no intention of ever getting back with Mavek…. But wanting for something didn’t make it a reality. How sure was she that he couldn’t one day convince her to forgive him? Especially since all the other people that he’d hurt, Tabitha, Eskel, were all telling her it was okay for her to? That they’d understand.

How could they understand something she herself struggled with?

“I’m sorry,” Eskel said then, breaking into her thoughts. “I’ve made things harder on you. You came here fine, and now you’re stuck in your head again. Let’s just forget I said anything at all, yeah? It was selfish of me to bring it up anyway.”

Was he worried she was falling for Mavek again?

“How about we check out the reading material for next semester? Since you’re here,” he suggested, twisting around to grab his book off the desk before heading over to plop next to her on the bed. They’d signed up for another lit class together. He started flipping through pages, seemingly unaware that his knee was pressed against her thigh or that she was staring at him.

“I should actually probably go,” Arden said, voice trailing off at the end so it sounded almost more like a question than a statement. She cleared her throat.

“Why? Because of Mavek?” Eskel glanced up at her, flashing her a half-smile that had her breath catching embarrassingly in her throat. “Who cares? You said it yourself, he doesn’t own you or anything.”

“He could hurt you.”

“He wants to get on your good side,” he reminded her, sitting up straight. “Messing with your friends isn’t really the way to do that. He’s not stupid. I don’t think he’ll actually do anything to me at all.”

“If friends was all we were, I wouldn’t be so worried,” she said, then slapped a hand over her mouth. Eskel cocked his head, the air around him stilling and thickening, the atmosphere between them changing so quickly, it was suddenly hard for her to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” his words were barely a whisper, and before she had the chance to ask him what about, he shifted forward. His hand pressed against the back of her neck, pulling her forward even as he leaned in, his warm mouth brushing over hers in less time than it took to blink.

For a moment, they stayed like that, neither of them moving. Then Arden found herself reaching for him, tugging at the thin material of his shirt as she moved her mouth against his, coaxing him to deepen the kiss. He responded right away, leaping into action as if he’d been waiting for her permission. One second they were sitting, and the next he was lying on top of her, tongue stroking the roof of her mouth, teeth nipping her bottom lip.

She’d almost forgotten how it felt to kiss him––all needy desperation. Like he’d bottled up years of yearning and she’d just unscrewed the lid. Her hands inadvertently gripped his hips, settling him more firmly between her legs. The smell of him, honeysuckle and ocean air, was heady, and she had the brief thought that it was stronger than even the sensation of faerie magic, and then he changed the angle of the kiss, causing her thoughts to scatter.

Knocked by their movements, the heavy literature book slid off the edge of the bed, thumping loudly against the floor, but neither of them noticed. Arden simply pulled him closer, tilting her head to give him better access to her neck when he moved to trail his mouth over it. Part of her knew they were going too far for what was only a second kiss, but she wasn’t about to put a stop to it. She’d spent so much time keeping him at bay; if this was how it could be between them, she felt ridiculous for wasting all those opportunities to get them here sooner.

He’d just dropped his mouth to hers again when another thump sounded, this one louder than the one made by the book. It came again, finally breaking through Arden’s concentration enough that she recognized it was coming from outside. Just as she was lifting her head toward it, something slammed into the window, and suddenly glass was flying everywhere. They both sprang off the bed, Eskel tugging her to the other side of the room toward the exit.

A softball-sized hole had been made in his dorm window, the body of a large black crow hanging there. The creature’s head was inside the room, lifeless, glassy eyes staring their way. A trail of crimson rolled down the glass, a small puddle of it beginning to pool on the wooden ledge.

“What the…” Eskel ran a hand through his hair and tugged Arden closer to him. The bird was clearly dead, but neither of them missed the threat it symbolized. “Animals don’t just commit suicide. Especially like that.”

Arden gripped his hand, fingers laced through his, as she watched the winter wind blow lightly against a few of the bird’s tail feathers. Otherwise, it seemed eerily calm out there.

“Do you think it was Mavek?” he asked.

She didn’t know. It didn’t seem like something he would do, but then again, who knew what he was capable of? If he’d caught her and Eskel just now, it could be his doing.

It could be someone else’s.

At her silence, Eskel began collecting their things, grabbing his backpack off the floor and stuffing clothes into it quickly. It was difficult for him to do so one handed, but he refused to let go of her, carefully keeping her as far from the window over the bed as possible.

“We should leave,” he told her once he’d tossed the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll alert the RA through a text message about the window and tell her I’ve got somewhere else to stay until it’s fixed.”

“We have seriously bad luck with windows,” she uttered. Her eyes had remained on the bird this whole time. She felt oddly numb on the inside.

“Arden.” He let her hand go long enough to cup her face and force her to look at him. “Where do you want to go? Your place or Tabby’s?”

It was late, close to midnight, and even though that’s where Arden had been planning to stay the night anyway, she found herself shaking her head at the suggestion. She didn’t want to bring trouble to Tabby’s doorstep.

“Alright,” he said, “where to then? I’ll go wherever you want, just tell me the place.”

She didn’t have to think too hard to know where she wanted to be right now. “Home,” she told him, “take me home.”

“So this is where you grew up?” Eskel circled the living room, his boots squeaking softly against the hardwood floors. Over the mantel, a family portrait Arden hadn’t noticed the last time she’d been here still hung. He gave it a little extra attention, smiling slightly at her five-year-old face, before turning away and heading back to where she stood in the doorway.

Arden had taken them across town to her old three-story home packed with all of her memories of happier times. She may have grown up with the sight and an absentee father, but this had still been the place she’d smiled the most growing up. To her, this house had always symbolized her “before.”

Before her dad had died.

Before her mom’s illness had taken over.

Before she’d made the pact with Mavek and sent her sister away.

“This was the last place my family was all together,” she told him, glancing around. They’d locked the door behind them—a futile precaution, really—and had kept most of the lights in the lower level off. Only the one in the foyer was on, its dim orange glow casting just enough light to see into the living and dining rooms. The wooden staircase in the center stretched upward into darkness, and Arden stared up at it silently for a moment. She couldn’t sense anything else in the house; they were alone.

Still, she was nervous.

This place was located a lot closer to Rose Manor than her tiny house on the opposite side of town. She also didn’t know how closely Mavek monitored it, or if he’d be alerted that someone had entered without his permission. Technically, his name was on the deed, though he’d said he’d held onto it for her.

“If the bird was Mavek’s doing,” she told Eskel, “then this might not be the smartest hiding place.”

Eskel stepped closer, taking her hand in his. “If the bird was Mavek’s doing, he probably would have come out and said as much by now. Besides, who said we were hiding? It’s just too cold to stay in a dorm room with a busted window, that’s all. We didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She inhaled and then motioned toward the stairs. “My room is up there. I’m not sure if it’s still furnished, but it doesn’t hurt to check.”

The steps creaked beneath their weight, the sound rivaling the pounding of her heart. She was nervous for some reason, restless at the prospect of what she might find up there. Maybe even a little excited too.

They kept the hallway light off as she maneuvered them down the left side, memory leading her down the hall to the door on the right. The brass knob was cold to the touch, the metal scraping a bit when she twisted it and pushed the door open. Inside was pitch black, the small window set across from the door offering little light. Fumbling for the switch, Arden flicked the light on, blinking against the sudden brightness. Once her eyes had adjusted, she risked taking a look, inhaling sharply when she did.

Her tiny twin sized bed had been replaced with a queen, set against the center of the far wall. The sheets were clean and wrinkle free, the color of pale pink roses with vibrant yellow accents throughout. The desk she’d used as a child was still there, pushed off in the corner, its surface polished and shining. A single bookcase stood in the opposite corner, the three shelves empty.

“This bed,” Arden’s fingers tightened around Eskel’s, “it’s not mine.”

Mavek must have put it here, either before or after her last visit.

“He expected you to come eventually,” Eskel caught on, moving around her to step farther into the room. It was a fairly decent size, with more than enough space for three people to sleep comfortably on the floor during a slumber party. The closet was also a walk-in, the white doors currently closed. He went over to them and yanked one open, an unreadable expression crossing over his face when he peered inside.

Arden frowned and moved closer to see for herself, eyes going wide to find the closet packed with clothing. Everything was carefully organized with sections for jackets, shirts, dresses, and pants. Hangers lined both the right and left walls, while the back one was made up of shelving that contained rows of shoes, purses, and accessories.

“What gave him the idea that I was interested in any of this?” Arden asked out loud. She’d never been the type to care about name brands.

“As far as bribes go,” Eskel whistled low as he flicked the tag on a nearby coat, “this one isn’t half bad. I mean, since you’re the target audience, I guess it does miss a few marks, but… there’s a lot of stuff here. I wonder when he planned on actually giving it to you?”

She clucked her tongue and pulled him away, slamming the closet doors shut once more with a resolute click. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t want it. That’s not why we’re here anyway.”

“Why are we here again?” There was a glimmer in his eye that was impossible to miss, yet she pretended to anyway. While the moment they’d shared back at his dorm had certainly been eye opening, she wasn’t in the mood to start up where they’d left off, the dead bird still on her mind.

“To sleep,” she told him, moving to shut the bedroom door and twist the lock into place. After that was done, she went to the bed and pulled the covers down.

“Together?” Eskel asked after a moment had passed in silence.

She stared at him, her face heating up. “Yes, but I mean really sleep. Fortunately, this bed is a lot bigger than the one I used as a kid, so yeah.”

He grunted. “I’m not really sure I agree that it’s ‘fortunate,’ but okay.”

Eskel dropped his bag on the top of the desk and unzipped it, pulling out two sets of clothing. He turned and tossed one at her, chuckling a little when she fumbled to catch it.

“What’s this?”

“You aren’t planning on sleeping in those jeans, are you?” He motioned to her outfit. “I brought a change of clothes for you too, just in case. Unless…” he glanced briefly at the closet, “you want to search in there for some pajamas?”

“No.” She clutched the items he’d thrown at her a bit more tightly than necessary. “This is fine, thanks.”

He nodded and then glanced around before settling on the closet once more. “I’ll change in there. Let me know when you’re done so I can come back out.”

As soon as he’d disappeared inside, Arden quickly got dressed in the oversized T-shirt and sweats he’d lent her. The shirt was a light blue, and had a strange logo for what she assumed was a beach on it. She was holding the material away from her so she could better see the design when he knocked from within the closet.

“I’m good,” she called, still checking out the shirt. Most of the writing had faded away, and she was trying to figure out if she was looking at an F or an S when he was suddenly standing at her side. “What does this say?”

He eased her body around so that she was facing him, then gave her a once over. When he suddenly dropped down to a crouch, she forgot all about the shirt.

“It says ‘Flamingo Hop’. It was a shake shack I used to go to a lot as a kid. It closed a few years ago and I got the shirt for free.” As he explained, he began rolling the ends of her sweat pants up so that they no longer touched the ground. Once he was done, he stood again, inspecting his handy work before noticing the way she was looking at him. He laughed. “We’re here to sleep, remember, Arden?”

At first she couldn’t mask her surprise, then she slapped lightly at his shoulder and turned away quickly before he could notice her reddened cheeks or her labored breathing.

She slipped into bed and began rearranging the comforter over herself, then checked her phone’s battery and set it aside on the nightstand. When she’d finished all of that and Eskel still hadn’t budged, she gave him a pointed look and said, “Well?”

They’d slept in the same room before, after the Tithe, but she tried not to think about how different this situation was.

“We should be safe here,” she said, pretending not to understand where his hesitation was coming from, ignoring the way her heart was thumping wildly in her chest. “We locked the front door, and the bedroom door, no one knows we’re here and this place is abandoned, so…”

“Someone visits, clearly,” he reminded her, motioning toward all of the things Mavek had left behind.

“You’re the one who said you weren’t worried about him.”

He snorted, but finally moved around to the other side of the bed, crawling in next to her. All the while he avoided eye contact, mirroring her earlier moves as he fidgeted with the comforter and dropped his cell phone on the end table at his side. “I said I don’t want him dictating our lives,” he corrected. “I’m not stupid though.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No,” he blurted, and this time he was the one with red-stained cheeks. He cleared his throat. “I mean, it’s already super late and we’re both exhausted. It’d be dumb for us to leave. Plus, where would we even go? You’re right. This is the safest place at the moment.”

Tabby’s was probably the safest place, but neither of them corrected his statement.

Arden lay down, fluffing the pillow beneath her before turning to face him. After a moment, he followed suit, and she waited until he’d settled before telling him, “Thanks for coming with me.”

“A bird flew through my window.” He lifted a shoulder and grinned. “I would have come anyway.”

“I know. You’ve done so much for me already. I feel like it isn’t fair.”

“Why?” He lifted a blond brow. “Are you planning on turning me down come morning?”

She pretended to think it over, and then shook her head. He noticeably stilled some, a spark of hope lighting in his eyes, impossible to miss with such little space between them. “Earlier, you said that you like me. Tell me again.”

“Of course I like you.” She thought about Tabby’s scolding before, about how she’d gone on one date with Eskel and hadn’t brought up going on another since. “I’ve liked you for a while. I just—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he cut her off. “I already know. I’ve been around, remember? It’s okay.”

“If it was, you wouldn’t be asking me to repeat myself.” She sighed, realizing how true those words were.

“I do have a question,” he began tentatively. “Can I ask it?”

She nodded.

“I know I kept telling you that I understood, and that I was fine with waiting, but… Arden, did you draw this line between us because you’re actually torn between Mavek and me, or is it because you’re worried about my safety? You’ve mentioned the latter a few times, and if this is about protecting me, I just want you to know that it hurts more having to stand on the sidelines and watch you put yourself at risk. I hate that there’s nothing I can do to help you.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Hell, I didn’t even find the possible cure—Cole did.

“We’re a lot alike,” he continued. “We both hate feeling powerless. For a while now, it’s felt like all I can do for you is be supportive. I don’t want to be still anymore though, Arden. I want you to actually need me.”

“I do need you.” She’d known he was holding it in, at least to some degree. Despite his words, he couldn’t actually be okay with her constant deals with Mavek. Arden regretted that she hadn’t been able to put him first, her focus instead centered on herself and what was happening to her.

The fact of the matter was, even though she was the one undergoing the change, this wasn’t just happening to her. Her friends had been affected as well; they were struggling and suffering right alongside her, just trying to keep it together to make it through to the other side. She’d had that support system this entire time, yet she’d felt so alone.

She hadn’t been.

“That night,” she said, “the night of the Tithe, I fully intended to say yes the next morning. I wanted to give us a chance. I don’t think I ever told you that.”

“You didn’t, no.”

“I think…” she paused for a split second, then pushed past her nerves and reached out, gently running the tips of her fingers through his hair, “I think I want to give it a try now. A real try.”

He searched her expression for a moment. “What about Mavek?”

She exhaled shakily, buying herself a second to really sort through her thoughts. To really be sure. Eskel deserved that much and more from her.

“I have one session with him left before our deal is over.” She’d almost forgotten about it, and that it involved kissing him. “But after… after let’s go on another date. This time I’ll pick the place.”

“Just to be clear,” his voice was low, hesitant, “this is you choosing me, right?”

Arden shifted closer, moving to brush her lips lightly against his before she settled back down. “Yeah,” she clarified, breathless. “Yeah, this is me choosing you.”

It was far past time she learned to let the Midnight King go.

Cato was at the door the next morning.

He didn’t say anything to her when she and Eskel opened it, ready to step outside and go about their days. He merely gave them a silent once-over before stepping back and tipping his head in the direction of Rose Manor.

Arden had changed into the same clothes she’d worn yesterday, and tugged on the end of her shirt in hesitation. If she went looking like this, Mavek would know that she hadn’t spent the night at Tabby’s.

“It’s not like you can wear something from the closet upstairs,” Eskel pointed out, reading her thoughts.

“He already knows you were here,” Cato clarified before she could think to ask.

“Does he know about my window, too?” Eskel asked, eyes narrowing on the Puck.

The fae shook his head. “I arrived a bit too late to witness it, but I did see the bird. It took me almost all night to find you two—Mavek realized it just before me.”

“So,” she grimaced, “he also knows that we were together.” Perfect.

She didn’t have anything to feel ashamed about, but she was now worried about Eskel’s safety. She wondered if leaving him alone to go with Cato was such a good idea. Then again, bringing him along would be even more stupid, so she didn’t have much of a choice but to trust what Eskel had mentioned last night. Mavek was trying to gain her favor, and harming Eskel would not be to his benefit. Maybe that was also why he’d sent Cato here instead of coming himself.

She took a step toward Cato, pausing when Eskel reached out to tug lightly on her jacket sleeve.

“Be careful,” he told her, then added, “I’ll see you at Tabby’s later?”

“Yeah.” She smiled at him then let the Puck lead the way.

The manor wasn’t too far of a walk from her old house, but after a while, Arden got sick of the silence. “What, no warning remarks today?”

He glanced at her. “You should know what you’re doing by now.”

She grunted. “Ah. You’re afraid if you talk to me I’ll spill details about the super-secret plan to reverse—”

“Stop.” He didn’t so much as stumble a step, and his voice was firm. “You never know who’s listening nowadays.”

Arden opened her mouth, saw his stony expression, and changed tactics. “Is it Finch?”

“Apparently, there has been a few sightings, people claiming to have seen him here.”

“We already knew they weren’t just rumors,” she pointed out.

They reached the manor and he walked her straight to the front door.

“Don’t leave here without me tonight, okay? I’ll escort you to Tabitha’s myself.”

She thought it over, and then nodded. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

“Right.”

Arden pushed the door open and entered the manor, frowning when the parlor was empty. She’d just taken a step in the direction of the kitchen when footsteps resounded from a room off to the left. Glancing over, she watched as Mavek entered.

He was wearing a black silk dress shirt with the top three buttons undone and charcoal colored jeans. She felt incredibly overdressed in her jacket, and tensed when his gaze dropped down the length of her. She held her breath, waiting, but if he noticed that she was in the same clothes as yesterday, he didn’t comment.

“Find anything?” she asked when he still hadn’t spoken.

He shook his head. “Whoever shot that arrow at us knew they were fast enough to escape me. They didn’t leave any traces behind either, and nothing else has happened since. What about with you?”

“Something did happen last night. Any guesses who caused that?”

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Are you asking if it was me?”

“That fact that you aren’t asking me to elaborate proves you already know about the bird incident,” she stated. “If you’re just going to play more games, I’m out. I didn’t come here for that.”

“That wasn’t my intention when I woke up this morning, either,” he told her, then moved to the other side of the room where a small wooden table was set close to the unlit fireplace. “Since neither of us seems to be in a good mood, let’s just get started, shall we?”

“So, you don’t know who did it?” She trailed after him, watching as he began to organize a row of small china plates on the table. There were five total, and each held a different type of fruit on its surface. It made her think back to the night of the crowning and the rotten fruit Cole had eaten and she almost gagged.

“Someone taking orders from the Crown Prince,” he said. “I have no substantial proof yet however.”

“Finch.” She rocked back on her heels. “Guess even you have to be careful when it comes to pointing fingers at the Crown Prince, huh?”

He chuckled darkly. “Yes, you could certainly say that.”

She blinked at him questioningly when he suddenly spun on his heels to face her. It took her a moment longer than it should have to realize what he was asking for, and when she did, she rolled her eyes. Lifting onto the tips of her toes, Arden planted her mouth against his, falling back almost as soon as their lips made contact.

For a second, it looked as though he wanted to say something, a flicker of displeasure crossing his features, but without a word he turned back to motion at the plates on the table.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but if this is an offer to eat, I’m going to have to pass. Just the thought of eating fruit here makes me sick,” she said, scrunching up her nose.

He grunted. “That’s not what it’s for. You saw what Titania did that night, how she made one thing appear to be another. That’s what we’re working on today. That’s the final task for you to try. We’ve already gone over the basics like speed and night vision, and we’ve practiced using sway. This is the last major ability you have, and since it’s one you’ve yet to display, I thought it important to use as the last lesson.”

So this was it. The last time she’d have a good excuse to come to the manor. She’d collected two of the items needed in order to break the curse, but there was still one missing.

“If this involves food, shouldn’t we be doing it in the kitchen?” she suggested, realizing how suspicious that made her sound. Even if she did convince him to move there, snooping through his cabinets without him noticing would prove difficult.

When he’d left her on the porch yesterday, she should have taken the opportunity to search for the candied roses instead of going for the greenhouse. Picking a few rose petals was way easier, after all. Though, she supposed it had all worked out. If she hadn’t been there at that time, she wouldn’t have been able to procure his blood, and really, that was the hardest thing on the list to get.

“Here is fine,” Mavek told her. “This is going to be difficult since you haven’t done it before, so pay attention. First, focus all of your energy on a piece of fruit—let’s start with the grape, since it’s smaller.”

Arden stared at the grape as instructed, deciding to cooperate for now––this was something she needed to learn anyway. “I didn’t even think about the possibility that I’d have glamour.”

“Of course,” he said, “all Unseelie have the ability to use it in one form or another. You’ll need to develop the ability to make yourself invisible in front of humans. It’s a handy trick.”

She almost laughed. It wasn’t like she was planning on robbing any banks, but she smartly refrained from commenting.

“We’ll start small,” he continued. “Once you know how to do it, you should be able to practice on your own, though I’ll of course offer my services.”

“Hard pass.” She inhaled deeply and concentrated. “What now?”

“Think about the grape turning into something else. Picture it in your mind.”

“A food something?”

“Anything, really.”

As despicable as it was, the first thing that came to mind was one of the tiny squares of cake Cole had been eating. It made her sick to her stomach, but she could picture it vividly in her head, so it was easy to imagine the grape changing into a small chocolate confection. Squeezing her eyes shut in concentration, she focused on the image of a chocolate square, but when she opened her eyes eagerly a second later, the grape lay unchanged. She grunted. Easy to visualize. Not so easy to carry out.

“Keep trying,” Mavek instructed after a moment had passed and the grape still looked very much like a grape.

“For how long?” Frustration crept into her tone.

He chuckled. “As long as it takes.”

It took over an hour, but eventually Arden was able to do it. She made every single piece of fruit set out on the table appear to be something else. Unseelie used this trick not only to disguise or hide themselves while out in the world, but in other ways as well. They could make leaves look like money, a prank often played and one Arden was somewhat tempted to try out.

“That wasn’t bad for your first try,” Mavek complimented her when the glamour she’d placed on the peach wore off, transforming it from a cupcake back to its real form. She’d gotten it to last a solid five minutes. “You won’t know how long you can hold the glamour until you practice.”

They were at the end of their session, and Arden struggled to come up with an excuse to stick around, worried it would give him the wrong idea. This morning, she and Eskel had brainstormed ways she could search the kitchen, including one that involved getting the others to help while she distracted Mavek. Mulling it over, she realized she had little choice at this point. Now that they had the other two items, it seemed worth the risk in order to obtain the last ingredient.

“Arden.”

She glanced over at him, realized she’d been staring blankly at nothing, and cleared her throat. “Right. Let’s get this over with.”

He remained still as she walked to him, arms at his sides as she grabbed onto his hips for leverage and lifted herself onto her toes in a mirror of the move she’d made earlier. The second their lips touched, however, his arms banded around her, holding her flush against him. There was an odd sparking sensation when their mouths met, strong enough that she gasped. She shoved him away, hard enough that he banged into the table, sending all the tiny plates clattering.

“What the hell?” she growled. Something was wrong. An impending doom twisted in her gut, causing goose bumps to break out over her flesh for no apparent reason.

“Have you kissed the human again since the night of the Tithe?” he asked, his sudden change in topic momentarily catching her off guard.

Annoyance flashed through her. It wasn’t any of his business what she did, not anymore, and she opened her mouth to say as much as she turned to leave. All she wanted was to get out of there.

“Yes.” She came to a halt, feet suddenly rooted in place, ears buzzing as panic swarmed her within a millisecond. She’d just said yes when she’d meant to tell him to go screw himself. He hadn’t said her name––why had she just told the truth?

Behind her, the sound of his footsteps approaching echoed like gunshots in the otherwise quiet foyer. Now that she knew how to do it––how to focus––she could strongly sense him at her back, like a dark cloud.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” he told her, voice low and silky. His hand reached out once he was at her side, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he twisted around to stand in front of her. “It was fair this time though. I promise.”

She clenched her jaw, barely resisting the urge to punch him. A dozen questions flickered through her mind at once, but she settled on the one that would disguise her panic. Whatever he’d done, he’d get to it on his own without her prompting, and the last thing she wanted was to betray her true feelings. “Fair how?”

“Ask me anything,” he suggested, holding out his arms momentarily before dropping them. He cocked his head. “Go ahead, Arden. Give it a try.”

“Have you killed anyone recently?” She blurted.

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he smoothly replied, “Yes. Yes, I have. I found the Unseelie responsible for the bird incident at your mortal’s college and dealt with them. Happy?”

“Of course not,” she practically growled back.

“You should be. From now on, we can’t lie to one another, heart. This distrust that’s formed between us has been dealt with, cured. The only words I can give you are truth, and vice versa. You can trust me again.”

She thought it over, trying to quickly piece it all together. “The kisses.” She uttered. “I knew those couldn’t just be innocent.”

Disgust rose within her. She’d guessed there was another motive behind his request, but she’d done it anyway. Stupid.

“Kissing you is never innocent.” He frowned, looking a bit confused by her statement. “Neither of us have been innocent for a very long time; what’s between us certainly isn’t.”

“So, what? Is this another curse? Another spell?”

“It’s a binding of sorts,” he told her. “It allows us to be truthful without the usage of a name. It’s only between us, don’t worry. You won’t be honest with just anyone.”

“Forcibly honest,” she reminded him, then realized, “But that’s only if I choose to answer, isn’t it?”

She’d asked him to explain how he thought this was fair, and he’d deflected by having her test it out on her own. That meant she didn’t have to actually give him an answer—she could choose not to—

“Not exactly,” he disagreed. “I intended to tell you the truth, so my beating around the bush was acceptable. You’d still discover the answer that way, after all.”

“You’re saying that no matter what, if you ask me something, I now have to tell you?” She clenched her fists tightly at her sides, muscles straining from the effort. “How is this supposed to fix things between us again? All this does is make me trust you less, Mavek. I don’t care that you have to be honest with me now, I care that up until this point, you were never honest. It’s how we got here.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Arden,” he said. “I did this for you.”

“To ‘have me’ and to ‘protect me’ are two very different things.” She’d known for a while now how selfish he was, how easily he disregarded the things she actually wanted. It shouldn’t surprise her, the realization that none of this had ever stemmed from real love.

Mavek hadn’t truly protected her. Not even once. All this time, she’d been torn over her past feelings for him, too blinded to see what was right in front of her. Maybe it was because he was an Unseelie, or his true nature was showing, but either way, Mavek Midnight didn’t love her, not really. Not in a way that actually mattered. If he did, he wouldn’t have done this behind her back.

Again.

“After seeing how I reacted to you turning me into an Unseelie against my will,” she spat, “you thought this was a good plan? You don’t care about how I feel at all, do you? You don’t care that being manipulated like this makes me feel terrible about myself, or that the idea of living forever and watching all of the people I love die is horrifying to me. You never ask, Mavek. You take. So what is it?”

No matter how he tried to spin this act, she could see through him, maybe for the first time ever. He hadn’t done this to regain her trust; he’d done this to get something out of her.

“What’s the big truth you wanted from me so badly you cursed me yet again?” There were only a few things she could think of that she hadn’t told him about back when she’d trusted him. When she was his Heartless, when he’d asked her something, she’d answered willingly. Now since the Tithe, she could think of only one thing that she’d kept under tight wraps. “Is this about whether or not I’ve found a way to reverse what you’ve done?”

“I don’t care about that,” he said, momentarily shocking her into stunned silence. “There’s only one way to turn you back into a human, and I’m positive you haven’t discovered it yet.”

“How can you be so sure?” She needed to be careful. At least now she knew that he wasn’t aware of Cole’s discovery. He must not have realized that she’d already collected his blood.

“Because if you had, we’d be having a very different conversation right now,” he said, hesitating briefly before adding, “and you would undoubtedly be angry with me once more.”

“I’m angry with you now,” she pointed out, struggling to keep her voice even.

“I do want to know one thing,” he ignored her words. “You were right about that.”

Arden couldn’t help but frown. If it didn’t have to do with her staying human, she couldn’t imagine what was worth all of the trouble he’d gone through to secure the truth. As far as she knew, she wasn’t keeping any other big secrets from him. If it was her feelings, he’d used her full name against her enough times already to get the answer to that. She looked at him uncertainly. What was she missing?

“Why didn’t you just use my name to find out whatever it was?” She didn’t get it. He already had that power, why go through all of this? It certainly couldn’t be because he’d wanted to be able to kiss her six times.

“A full name only makes you unable to lie to me,” he explained. “It doesn’t make you give me the whole truth. Not like this will. There’s no more hiding, Arden.”

Mavek gently grabbed her chin, tipping her head back to maintain eye contact as he stepped closer into her personal space. She stilled as he leaned in, his warm breath fanning against her right cheek before she felt his mouth close to her ear. She tried to pull away, but there was no escaping his next words.

“What did the Erlking show you the night of the Tithe?” he practically whispered, and she shivered even as she felt the world come to another dead stop around her.

Of course he hadn’t forgotten that. Of course that was the thing he most wanted to know.

She shook her head, removing his hold and went to step back. His arm banded around her waist a second time, tugging her solidly against him. Even with the extra strength she’d gained from the change, she knew she couldn’t break his hold. She tried to bite down on her bottom lip instead, just to keep herself from talking.

But he’d been right about this new curse he’d placed on them. Because she had no intention of telling him, the curse worked its way through her bloodstream, lighting a fire in its wake that burned. It felt like a thousand tiny fire ants were biting her, her skin prickling and heating uncomfortably before it began to turn into pinpricks of pain. Her lungs started to heat, and she was struggling to breathe, all of sudden unable to unlock her jaw or inhale through her nose.

“Tell me,” Mavek said softly, brushing a few beads of sweat off her forehead, “and it’ll stop. That’s how this works, heart.”

Stubbornly, she refused, fighting against the way every cell in her body screamed.

He sighed. “You won’t be able to hold out forever. Eventually the pain will get to be too much and you’ll tell me anyway, without even meaning to. It’ll be an act of self-preservation—like how it’s impossible for humans to drown themselves unless they weigh their bodies down. Just tell me, Arden. I don’t like watching you suffer. What did the Erlking show you?”

She was almost positive her eardrums were about to explode; the pounding in her ears was so strong. Because of that, she almost didn’t register that she had begun to speak, not until she was already a few words in and it was too late to stop herself from saying more.

He was right about that too. She couldn’t control her body.

Unseelie magic was too strong.

“He showed me my death,” she said, voice shaky, teeth chattering slightly. Without meaning to, she tangled her fingers in the thin material of his shirt, clinging to him desperately even as the pain and the heat finally started to dissipate. “Someone stabs me with a dagger.”

“Why keep something like that from me?” he asked, brow furrowing. “I can protect you.”

She shook her head, tried to fight against answering that question, but all of her energy was spent and she lasted less than a handful of seconds. “I couldn’t see who did it, but they were wearing a ring—the Erlking’s ring.”

Mavek straightened, noticeably stilling. The air around them seemed to darken, so that even as the final notes of pain left her, Arden still found it hard to breathe.

“One of his Heartless,” he murmured to himself, clearly thinking her words over. She tightened her grip on him, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Or…” his eyes met hers again, the calculation in them impossible to miss, “the brother of one of his Heartless.”

“It’s not them,” Arden said desperately as he pulled away. She tried to hold on, but he merely reached up and batted her hands away from him. “Eskel and Cole would never hurt me, you know that!”

“You must believe that to be true,” Mavek shook his head, “but I do not. Think, Arden. It isn’t worth the risk.”

“There is no risk,” she insisted. “Whoever it was I saw in that vision, it’s not them. Neither of them would give me a paper cut, let alone kill me.”

“You don’t understand,” he said, voice rising slightly, enough that she blinked at him in surprise. “There’s more to this than possible death.”

She frowned, not sure what he meant by that. He ran a hand through his hair, already turning away from her. “I’m sorry, Arden, but I have to protect you. I have to protect us.”

“What—” she started to ask, moving to go after him, though he was already too far out of reach.

“I can’t let them live, not if there’s even a chance one of them is who you saw.” Mavek yanked the front door open, paused for a split second to glance at her over his shoulder. There was real regret in his eyes, and she came to a standstill only a few feet away. “I’ll make their deaths quick, heart. I promise.”

“Wait—” She shot back into motion, slamming against the door as he shut it behind him. She struggled with the handle but he’d locked it. Pounding her hands against the wood, she screamed his name, only giving up once she could think past the fear long enough to acknowledge he wasn’t coming back.

He was going to kill her friends.

Spinning away from the door, Arden tugged out her cell phone, almost dropping it to the ground, her hands were shaking so much. She tried Eskel’s number first, making her way through the manor toward the back exit as she listened to the sound of his ring tone. When it went to voicemail she cursed and tried a second time.

Same thing.

She dialed Cole’s number next, exhaling in relief when the backdoor opened with ease. She darted out onto the porch, slipping on the snow-covered stone steps. Arden tumbled and hit the ground hard, the wind getting knocked out of her. She hissed and climbed back to her feet, snatching her phone off the ground and bringing it to her ear just in time to hear Cole’s voicemail connect. She’d scraped her palm pretty badly during the fall, but she hardly noticed as she ran around the side of the manor, cursing once she remembered that she didn’t have her bike with her.

Mavek had just left, so there was no way he was with either of her friends yet. They were safe, for now. Which meant there was another reason neither of them were picking up their phones.

Arden sent a warning message to them through the group chat, hoping that one of them would see it soon and warn the others. Then she started running, not really knowing where she was headed, but opting for the center of town. There were too many places they could be at this time of day, and she was unaware of their plans.

Maybe Eskel was back in his dorm room? She should head there first to check. If anything, she might get lucky and run into Mavek and convince him not to go through with it.

Her phone rang in her pocket before she’d made it halfway down the street, Cole’s image lighting up her screen as she fumbled to hit the accept button.

“Where are you?” she demanded, the fear in her voice palpable.

“I’m at the faerie ring, why?” He was calm. Clearly he hadn’t read her text yet.

“Stay there, I’m on my way!”

“What’s going on, A?”

“If you see Mavek, run. Do you know where Eskel is?”

“He’s here too. Seriously, what’s this about?”

Arden couldn’t stop the sigh of relief from slipping past her lips. If the two of them were together that meant she didn’t have to worry about tracking Eskel down as well. As far as she knew, Mavek wasn’t aware that they went to the faerie ring nearby her house. He definitely wouldn’t guess that was where they were now, which made it the safest place for them at the moment.

“I’m coming, please just listen to me and stay right there, okay?” She couldn’t explain it all over the phone, not when she’d kept this from them both as well. Not when she was in a rush to reach them. “I’ll tell you everything once I’m there.”

She waited long enough to hear Cole agree before she hung up and started running once more. Her thighs burned and the cold air stung her lungs but she didn’t slow her pace, pushing herself to her limit as she raced across town. She didn’t worry about being seen—her change had given her speed faster than a human’s, and it certainly would draw attention if someone saw her, but that wasn’t important at the moment. If Mavek figured out where they were before she got there it would be too late. He didn’t make threats lightly, and he’d gotten a serious head start. If any of his people had seen her friends in the woods and he asked them…

She hoped with all her being that he hadn’t yet. He’d placed protection over her group of friends; word of the withdrawal of that protection would take longer to get out than the fifteen minutes he’d been gone. This was exactly why she hadn’t told him. She’d known he would react this way, had guessed it’d put her friends at risk.

Arden ground her teeth and ran.

Bright sunbeams filtered through the tall canopy as Arden darted through the trees, moving quickly through the forest on nimble feet. She raced toward the faerie ring as horrifying images of what would happen if Mavek got there first flickered through her mind.

Not for the first time, she wondered if she should have handled the whole Erlking vision differently. Maybe if she’d confided in the others… She cut the thought short. Even if she had told them, nothing would have changed. As soon as Mavek had discovered it, he would have gone after them, same as he was now. Besides, telling Eskel and Cole would have only made them all more uncomfortable than they already were. She fully believed they wouldn’t hurt her––that the person in the vision had to be someone else. Once she got the two of them to a safe place, she’d figure out how to convince Mavek of that fact.

He was acting on instinct right now, on emotion. She’d get him to see reason once he’d calmed down. She had to. If anything happened to her friends…

Arden picked up the pace for the last few yards, bursting into the small clearing where the faerie ring rested. She let out a sigh of relief when she spotted Cole there, leaning back against the thick trunk of the tree, unharmed. He was staring up at the branches, arms crossed casually. If her unexpected and slightly panicked phone call had affected him, he certainly wasn’t showing it.

“Cole!” She ran toward him, stopping a few feet away. Out of breath, she took a second to inhale, pressing a palm against her pounding heart.

“What’s the emergency?” Cole asked, straightening and sliding his hands into his front pockets. He cocked his head at her, curiosity clear in his gaze.

“Where’s Eskel?” She desperately searched their surrounding area, but couldn’t spot him anywhere.

“Arden, calm down,” he said. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Her head was starting to ache from all the exertion and she rubbed at her temple. “Mavek is coming for you guys. We need to get out of here before he finds you.”

Cole frowned. “Why would he do that?”

“Because of the vision the Erlking showed me,” she confessed, words rushing out of her in an attempt to speed things up. They needed to get Eskel and go. Who knew who else was lurking in these woods? Someone could already be on their way to tell Mavek where her friends were. “Someone with his mark kills me.”

He lifted his hand and stared at the heavy ring on his middle finger. “Do they?”

“Yes, they do, and now Mavek wrongly suspects one of you, which is why we need to hurry. Now, where’s Eskel? I told you guys to stay right here.” She turned away, eyes searching a second time. Should she risk calling out for him? What if someone else heard?

“If the Midnight King is on his way,” Cole said, voice growing closer as he spoke, “it’s already too late, Arden.”

“Of course it isn’t,” she disagreed. “He’s wrong. I know you two would never hurt me. We just need to leave and come up with a plan. A way to convince him.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” She took a step to the left, in the direction of the lake where she’d met the Kelpie that one time. Had Eskel gone that way?

“Why do you care what the Midnight King thinks? Hasn’t he lost you already?”

“I care that he wants to kill you guys,” she corrected him. “Don’t you—”

Suddenly, Cole grabbed her arm and spun her around. She almost lost balance, but one of his arms locked around her waist, tugging her closer with enough force that the breath whooshed out of her. The shock was so great, it took her a second longer than it should have to feel the sharp piercing pain in her ribcage.

Arden dropped her gaze, eyes widening at the familiar sight of a hand and a dagger. Her vision played out before her, only now it was her reality.

Cole had stabbed her through the heart.

She opened her mouth, but a cough came out before she could speak, and all at once her legs gave out beneath her. He held on, easing her down so that she was lying on the mossy ground, head cradled in the crook of his arm. He took his hand off the hilt of the blade and stroked a bloodstained hand over the curve of her jaw.

“Shh,” he cooed when tears filled her eyes, “I apologize in advance, Arden Archer. This wasn’t the way I’d planned for it to go, but few things ever go according to plan, you know that better than most.”

“Cole.” It took her a few tries, but she was finally able to get his name past her lips. The effort caused more pain in her chest, and the tears spilled down her cheeks. There was no question about it––she was really dying. It was a wonder she wasn’t already dead, considering the silver poking through the center of her chest.

He cocked his head and pursed his lips in thought before replying, “Perhaps it’s time I introduced myself properly. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news on top of everything else, but your friend hasn’t been here for quite some time now. I, however, have enjoyed getting to know you, ex-Heartless. It’s been a real treat, in fact. Probably the most entertainment I’ve had in centuries. I mean,” he leaned a bit closer so that she could feel his warm breath across her face, the scent of mint and lavender wafting into her nose, “who would have suspected the all mighty Mavek Midnight would be felled by a little human girl? This world never ceases to amaze.”

Maybe it was the blood loss, but Arden was having a hard time following. She blinked at him, trying to clear her head enough to process what he was saying. It took much longer than it should have, and she gasped when it finally hit her.

The Unseelie could glamour.

“Where—” A coughing fit hit her, and she felt a trickle of blood spill from the corner of her mouth.

“Dead by now I assume,” Cole—or not Cole—didn’t seem to have trouble following what she’d meant to say. “I sent him to the Underground in my stead, even gave him my face in return for borrowing his. Since my brother is now here seeking me out, though, I believe it’s safe to assume he’s discovered my ruse. The only way for that to have happened would be death, which leads me to believe your friend has met his end.” He grinned down at her. “Should I apologize for that as well?”

Cole couldn’t be… Another sharp twinge shot through her and she gasped again, body shaking even as he tightened his hold around her.

“Shh,” he repeated, “it’ll be over soon, Arden. Then at least one of your problems will have been solved. Perhaps instead of apologizing, I should be asking for thanks.” The corner of his mouth tilted up and he shook his head. “Perhaps not.”

“Who…”

“Ah, that’s right. You should be honored, really,” he said, “you’ve been in the company of the Crown Prince of Faerie all this time. Allow me to officially introduce myself. I am Finch, next in line to rule the Underground—although that last bit is no longer true. My brother’s been after the spot for quite a while, you see. He must have succeeded or he wouldn’t have attained permission to come here.

“Anyway, that isn’t the point of all of this. Initially I was upset about Herla, I admit. It was childish—I’ve often been told I’m impulsive—but after I met you I found myself unable to continue with my original revenge ploy. Even you would have to agree that this is far more interesting than simply killing you or challenging Mavek Midnight would have been.”

Arden was starting to struggle with maintaining consciousness, her head foggy and weak. Her vision began to wink out, eyelids growing heavy. She didn’t want to fall asleep, knew that if her eyes closed, they would never open again.

“Almost there,” he told her, watching her physical struggle. “I’ve only a few more things to say, please try and keep awake until then. In the beginning, I really couldn’t tell which way you were going—was it the human, or Midnight? Who would you choose? It was all very fascinating, watching you struggle with yourself the way you did. Seeing how tormented a little thing like that made you. All of the rumors said you were strong, but I suppose the heart makes a weakling out of all of us.” He tapped the end of the knife, raising a brow when she cried out.

“At least Midnight waited until I’d gotten my answer. I would have been sorely disappointed had I been kept in the dark. You’re colder than I could have dreamed, Arden. I was curious what you’d do if Mavek was threatened, but imagine my shock when after seeing him almost take an arrow for you, you immediately betray him. Stealing his blood like that?” He clucked his tongue. “Ruthless. And to run off to Eskel directly after? Wickedly delicious. Catching the two of you making out in his dorm room certainly created a terrific opportunity for me. How much further would you go? How much greater could your betrayal of Mavek grow?”

Much greater. She’d taken Eskel to her family home, the one Mavek had bought for her. The one he’d furnished and kept clean. If she’d been able, she would have cursed at Finch, but she’d lost the ability to speak some minutes ago, so all she could do was muster a glare. She’d fallen right into his trap, had let him spy on her, had willingly given him personal details because she’d thought he was Cole.

And Cole… The tears began again. With only a few moments left in her, she knew she could do nothing to save him now. If he was even still alive…

Finch eased himself closer once more, lips curling up to expose teeth in a vicious grin that appeared unsettling on Cole’s face. “I’ll be honest with you, Arden, if you hadn’t chosen Eskel, I wouldn’t have stabbed you. You see, I might have taken the long way thanks to curiosity, but my destination was always set. Revenge. Revenge. Revenge. What’s sweeter?”

Something caught his attention off to the side, but she didn’t have the strength to turn her head and see what it was. Carefully, he lowered her all the way to the ground, even taking care to brush a few sticky strands of hair off of her forehead.

“Do tell the Midnight King something for me, will you?” He didn’t give her a chance for her confusion to show, tapping a finger to the end of her nose almost playfully before getting to his feet and dusting his pants off. Once he was satisfied, he planted his palms on his knees and bent over her. “Tell him it’s not so easy to wipe blood off your hands.” He winked at her and straightened, resting his hands on his hips.

“All actions have consequences,” he said, shaking his head. It sounded more like those words were meant for himself, however, and after glancing down at her one last time, he flashed her another grin and then turned on his heel, disappearing out of sight.

She could only make out the sound of his footsteps for a few seconds before the sound of static started buzzing through her ears, drowning out all other noises. She wanted to keep resisting, but she’d been at it too long already, and could feel the fight draining out of her as clearly as she could feel the wetness of the blood pooling around her.

The world blackened for a moment, coming back into focus long enough for her to register a flash of light before winking out of existence once more.

She thought she should be afraid—dying was scary—but she couldn’t muster enough energy even for that. The one thing still bothering her was the fact that Eskel wasn’t here, had probably never been here, and that meant he was still at risk.

Something heavy slammed down next to her, the ground shaking slightly, but she could no longer open her eyes. A thought began to form in her mind, but then a final breath stuttered past her lips, and everything stopped.

The smell of roses woke her.

At first, everything appeared murky and gray, her vision refusing to focus and her hearing fading in and out like she was lying at the bottom of a swimming pool. It took a few moments for her to register the dim lighting wasn’t in her head, and that it was merely twilight.

She tried to sit up but her body wouldn’t comply, only twitching slightly. Strong arms wrapped around her, holding her still, and she blinked, tipping her head up to find Mavek hovering over her. Arden’s head was resting in his lap and they were in the rose garden, on the bench where they’d kissed the night of the revelry when she’d gotten drunk on faerie wine.

“Mavek?” her voice came out scratchy and weak, and she had to wet her throat afterward, wincing at the lingering stinging sensation. The rest of her felt numb, and she struggled to recall what had happened and how she’d ended up here. Something wet plopped against her cheek and her frown deepened.

All at once, her eyesight snapped into focus, strengthening to the point that she could make out every line on his face. She blinked at him, adjusting to the change before noticing the tear tracks staining his marbled cheeks.

“Are you… crying?” She’d never seen him cry before. Hadn’t been aware the Unseelie even could. Her hand reached up as if with a mind of its own, stroking the curve of his jaw. When she pulled back, the tips of her fingers were wet. “Why?”

“I’m sorry, Arden,” he practically whispered, leaning over her as if to keep her close, shield her. “I’m so sorry.”

“About what?” The Tithe was the first thing that came to mind, but it couldn’t be that. Her head began to pound from the effort. “I’m having trouble putting the pieces together,” she admitted.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked.

She bit her lip and considered his question. There had to be something she was forgetting, otherwise she’d know what was going on right now. Something important enough to make him cry.

“We met this morning for training,” she began tentatively, “didn’t we?”

He nodded his head.

She could picture the two of them in the manor. They’d had an argument, and she’d gotten mad at him and left—but why? Absently, she pressed a hand against the center of her chest where a strange aching sensation had started.

Mavek pulled her palm away, lacing their fingers. “It’ll be painful, heart, but try and remember. It’s the only way you’ll understand.”

“Just tell me.” She wasn’t in the mood for games. Sensation was starting to come back to the rest of her body now, and she felt weird. Aside from the odd feeling in her chest, there wasn’t any discomfort, but something felt foreign. She stretched out her legs on the bench, as stiff as if she was waking from a weeklong nap.

“You were stabbed,” he said, pausing to give her time to process. When she didn’t react immediately, he sighed. “Give it a moment. It’ll come to you, once you’re done adjusting.”

“Adjusting to what?”

His silence made her roll her eyes and she settled some in his lap, trying to focus and figure it out on her own. She was stabbed? When? At training this morning? Had there been an accident? Was that why she’d gotten angry with him and left in a rush?

That didn’t make sense. She wouldn’t be back here on the grounds if that were the case, which meant something else had to have—

It hit her like a flash. The image of Cole and the woods. Of the knife in her chest and the way he’d laid her down, much like she was sprawled out now. Vividly, the memories flooded to her, knocking into her hard enough that she choked on an inhale as they sorted themselves out in her mind.

The feel of metal through her chest, the way her blood had trickled around her. The look in Cole’s eyes… or, not Cole, but—

“Finch.”

Mavek’s hand tightened around hers when she began to panic. “It’s okay, Arden. He’s not here. You’re safe.”

“You cursed me again.” That piece clicked into place, the rest of them tumbling into their proper chronology. She’d left because he’d found out about the Erlking’s vision. He’d gone after her friends but she’d found Cole first. “Cole wasn’t Cole.”

“He apparently hasn’t been for some time,” Mavek confirmed in a dire tone. “Ever since the night of Brix’s crowning. I’m not sure yet, but from what I’ve gathered, Finch switched places with your friend that night. I swear to you, I didn’t know.”

No, of course not. There’s no way he would have let someone like Finch near her if he had.

“He said that Cole was…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence, her brain wanting to shut down like before. It couldn’t be true. How could she have lost him without even knowing he was missing in the first place?

“I’m looking into it,” Mavek told her, though it was impossible to miss the way he glanced away. She struggled to control her breathing.

“Tell me the truth.” With the new curse he’d placed, he wouldn’t have a choice, and she desperately needed to know, no matter how badly she wanted to avoid it.

Avoidance wouldn’t change anything, after all.

“Wouldn’t you much rather hear about how you’re still alive?” he suggested. “You were stabbed straight through the heart, Arden. Aren’t you curious to know how you’re here?”

Her brow furrowed. “I have too many questions.”

They were all flickering through her mind at once, and she wasn’t sure what she wanted or needed to know first.

“Give it another moment,” he told her, “you changed while you were asleep, but your waking mind needs to adjust. I heard it’s a lot like getting drunk and trying to take an IQ test—nothing makes sense even though you can read the words clearly.”

“What are you talking about?” And why was he making the strangest analogy she’d ever heard? “Just… help me, Mavek. Tell me what’s going on.”

He stilled over her, searching her face, but she didn’t know what he was hoping to find. A second later he licked his lips. “We separated to find your friends. I wanted to make sure they couldn’t hurt you; I didn’t want the Erlking’s death vision to come true.”

“Skip ahead,” she ordered, starting to grow antsy. She had a bad feeling, and it wasn’t because of the vision. “If I found Cole, did you—”

“Eskel is fine. I arrived in the woods only a few minutes too late to stop Finch from hurting you. I never went after your human. He seemed the lesser threat; I know how he feels about you, even if I hate it.”

It was a relief to know he was safe, but that feeling didn’t last.

“Finch asked me to tell you something,” she said. “Something about blood not being easy to wipe off.”

“This was his revenge for Herla. For costing him his position in the Underground.”

“What do you mean?”

“His younger brother used the switch up at the Tithe to petition against him. He stole his place as Crown Prince. Finch blames us for that, and you have to admit, he isn’t entirely wrong. This was his way of punishing us for it. By taking from us what we desperately wanted, the same way we took the throne from him.”

“I don’t…” When he’d told her that Cole was probably dead, Finch hadn’t sounded pleased about it. That didn’t seem like part of his plan, so that couldn’t be what Mavek was referring to now. “Explain. It’s something bad. I can tell. It’s written all over your face.” The tear tracks were still visible, and she recalled what he’d said to her when she’d first come to. She swallowed the lump in her throat, dread washing over her. “Why are you sorry?”

“I lied,” he confessed. “There was a way to turn you back, to revert the change and make you human again.”

She zoned in on one word, and this time she was the one clutching him, fingers tightening around his almost to the point of pain. “Was?”

“It’s gone, Arden. Finch ensured that when he killed you. Your human-self died. This version of you is all that’s left. There’s no going back.”

She shoved him, moving faster than she’d ever been capable of before, hardly noticing. One second she was lying in his lap, and the next she was kneeling on the bench next to him, hands gripping the thick material of his jacket. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I tied your change to the Tithe,” his voice was even, despite the threatening way she held him. “I was aware how you would react, and hoped that I could convince you to forgive me. I assumed seven years was enough time for that, and if that time came to pass and you still couldn’t return to me… I’d let you go. But you had to keep your human heart until then, and now—”

“That asshole killed me.” She slumped, the rush of adrenaline she’d felt only a moment prior gone as quickly as it’d come. “He really killed me.”

It was probably safe to assume all that talk about needing Mavek’s blood and his rose petals to revert the change had been a lie. But why even bother, if this was what he’d intended to do in the first place? To distract her?

Or…

Finch’s comments about Eskel came back to her.

He’d known she’d chosen Eskel over Mavek. That’s why he did this.

“This is revenge,” she murmured, tears pricking at her eyes. Hopelessness overtook her and a pained sound slipped past her lips before she could stop it. She didn’t even have the strength to push him away again when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight. Instead, she lost it, sobbing against his shirt, clinging to him as if somehow he could make this better.

He couldn’t make anything better. He was the reason this was happening in the first place. The angry, bitter part of her wanted to punish him for it. To lash out right now and make him feel even a tiny bit of what she currently felt, but the rest of her was just distraught.

The last time she’d felt this way, like the world was ending, Mavek had been there for her. He’d been the one to pick her up, piece her back together. Give her hope, as false as she now knew that to be.

“I don’t want to ask you for help,” she cried, the words practically unrecognizable through her tears. She didn’t. But now that she was an Unseelie, she needed him. That much was obvious.

“Think about why Finch did this,” Mavek told her softly, cradling the back of her head soothingly. “If you have to tell yourself that you’re merely ensuring he doesn’t get what he wants by asking me for help, then I’ll pretend it’s true too.”

Finch took away her chance to be human because he wanted to hurt both her and Mavek. He was hoping that she’d still turn away from the Midnight King, that she’d blame him and hate him forever. She gulped. If she was an Unseelie, Eskel would eventually die and she’d be forced to continue on without him.

“I don’t want to pretend anymore,” she said, but her voice wavered with doubt. “I don’t want to let other people win, either.”

“So don’t,” he suggested, gently pulling her head away from him so that he could peer down at her. Carefully, he untangled strands of her hair that were stuck to her cheeks, brushing them off to the side. “Stay with me, Arden. Let’s show them all that they shouldn’t have challenged us. Let’s show them what we can do, together.”

She paused, staring up into his familiar hazel eyes. He made it sound so simple, and maybe it was, maybe that would be all it took to get back at Finch for his crimes. To set that part of her life right. Mavek was strong––stronger than most––and if he was to be believed, now she was too. Together, they stood a chance at taking out a faerie prince, especially one whose own family was after him.

But…

Mavek must have seen the hesitation written across her face, because he frowned. “He impersonated your friend and possibly got him murdered because of it. Who knows where he is now, or whom else he’s trying to manipulate dressed as Cole? More importantly than all of that, he took away your one chance, Arden. This is it. Who you are right now is who you’re going to be for the rest of eternity.”

Yes, yes it was. But all those sleepless nights these past few months had given her one thing: time.

Time to come to grips with the possibility that she’d become an Unseelie.

Time to figure out how she’d go on with her life if that happened.

Time to decide what it was she truly, unequivocally, wanted.

If she was going to be the same person from now until forever, she wanted to be an honest one. Starting with being honest to herself.

“I love Eskel,” she whispered.

Mavek’s eyes widened and he paled, shocked by her major revelation. Once he’d gotten a hold of himself, he started to move away, but she grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“I’m in love with Eskel Montgomery,” she repeated, firmer this time, with more assuredness. She needed him to know that. She needed him to understand that she meant it. The next thing she was about to say, she wasn’t divulging because of the truth curse he’d placed, but because she wanted to. “But I need you. I admit it. I know I do. So,” she searched his gaze, shock the only emotion greeting her, “help me, Mavek.”

He started to shake his head, roughly tugging his arm free only to have her latch onto his other one before he could make it a foot off the bench. His eyes narrowed in a glare, all the anger and the hurt finally flashing across his face.

“Do you love me?” she asked, before he could try to get away again. “Do you?”

Thanks to the new curse he’d placed on them, it was impossible for him to lie. She watched him struggle to conceal it, saw his jaw clench, knew that he was experiencing the same suffocating sensation she had back at the manor when she’d attempted to withhold the truth from him.

Knew all she had to do was wait for him to give in.

“Yes,” he said roughly a moment later. “Yes, I love you.”

She recognized the same humiliation and anger in his eyes that she’d felt the first time he’d forced her to answer that very question. She should have felt guilty for turning the tables, for stooping to his level. But she didn’t.

“Then prove it,” she ordered.

“I just did.”

She shook her head. “No, not with words this time, even if they are true. Show me, Mavek. And not the way an Unseelie shows it.”

“I am not a human,” he stated coldly.

“Sure, but up until a few hours ago, I was.” She still would have had a week until she would have changed fully—if that part of Finch’s story had been true anyway, and she wasn’t sure. But she knew that she’d still been human this morning.

“Help me. Even though there might not be anything in it for you. Even though I’m in love with someone else. You’re right, Finch did this to the both of us. So let’s make him pay for it. Together.”

“You say that,” he said, “while simultaneously telling me you’re choosing to be with someone else. My plan made sense, Arden. I never truly took away the choice you were always so desperately going on about, not really. You know that now.”

His definition of choice was murky at best, but this wasn’t the time to argue with him over the same old thing. She was very aware that part of her was still in shock, despite having mentally prepared herself for this possibility. She felt different. She wasn’t the same as she’d been only hours ago––knew she never would be again––but saying she was okay with turning into something else and actually being okay with it were two different things.

Arden was an Unseelie now.

Arden was going to be an Unseelie forever.

At the first pang of undiluted fear, she steeled herself, eyes narrowing on Mavek. She needed to keep the conversation on a safe topic.

“That doesn’t change the way I feel,” she told him. “It doesn’t change the things you’ve done, and it doesn’t change where I am right now. Back in the greenhouse, you told me you’d beg, remember?”

“I asked if that would help,” he corrected, but the spark of hope in his hazel eyes frustrated her. All this time, and she was only now recognizing that he would never really understand. Which of them was the fool, really?

“Fine,” she sighed, “you want to know how you can beg for my forgiveness? Help me ensure Finch doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

“Your humans, you mean.” He tilted his head. “You haven’t yet realized that there are more important creatures that require your attention now, have you?”

It wasn’t a question, so she frowned but didn’t say anything.

“I told you, I made you my equal,” he elaborated. “That comes with responsibilities. Finch is a threat to far more than a handful of mortals. Especially since his younger brother is after him and he’s lost claim to the throne. The longer he remains in this world unchecked, the more dangerous he becomes.”

“Does that mean you’re going to help me?” she asked. “Or are you telling me you’re going to stop him, but it has nothing to do with me at all?” Was he trying to save face? His pride wouldn’t let him aid her for nothing, so he was making excuses for himself?

Not that she didn’t believe what he was saying was true, but even with the curse he’d placed upon them both, she was smart enough to know the truth could still be twisted.

Suddenly, the sound of Arden’s phone going off filled the room, breaking through the momentary quiet like a lightning strike. She struggled pulling the device out of her back pocket, then stood and paced a few feet away when she saw Eskel’s name on the screen.

“Where are you?” She didn’t bother with a hello. “Are you alright?”

Behind her, Mavek clucked his tongue. “I told you I didn’t touch your human pet.”

She ignored him. “Listen, you and Tabby need to stay away from Cole. He’s—”

“He’s here right now,” Eskel cut her off. “That’s not why I called though.”

“Is this about my texts? Mavek isn’t who you need to worry about at the moment. You need to come up with an excuse and get away from Cole. Where are you? I’ll head that way now and—”

“Arden,” when he said her name like that, she finally noticed his voice sounded strange, ominous almost. “I’m at your place right now and… there’s a girl here claiming to be your sister.”

“What?” All the air whooshed out of her and she felt the world come to a screeching stand still for the millionth time that day.

“Give me that,” a familiar voice spoke a little away from the phone. A second later, it was loud and clear. “Hey, hurry up and come home before I steal your boyfriend—or whatever he is.”

“Ainsley—” The call disconnected and Arden sputtered.

That was definitely her sister’s voice, but what the hell was she doing here? She was supposed to be with their aunt halfway across the country. Ainsley and Eskel—and Cole.

Someone dropped a hand on her shoulder and she instinctually flinched away, only feeling a modicum of relief when she spun and saw Mavek. She’d almost forgotten he was there.

“Your sister is here?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. Still, she nodded frantically, and he sighed, staring off into the distance briefly before running a hand through his dark hair. “Alright, heart.”

“Cole is at the house with them,” she stated, mind reeling. She needed to get home, fast. “What if he hurts her?” She reached up and tentatively touched the spot on her chest where she’d been stabbed. There was no trace of the wound now, but the sharp memory caused the pain to linger when she thought about it.

“I said alright,” Mavek repeated, easing closer. Gently, he gripped her arms, waiting for her eyes to meet his before smiling softly in an attempt to be reassuring. “I’ll help you. We’ll take care of Finch together. I won’t let anything happen to your sister, I know how much she means to you.”

“What about Eskel?” she couldn’t help but ask, even though she shouldn’t push him. When she thought about it though, she felt the same level of fear for them both.

She loved her sister. But she loved Eskel too.

Mavek’s expression tightened, but he gave a single curt nod of his head. “We’ll protect them both, from the prince at least. Agreed?”

That left a lot of other things to chance, including Mavek himself––who was easily a threat to Eskel as well––but she didn’t really have time to argue over semantics.

“We have to go.” Mind made up, she twisted out of his grasp, latching onto the cuff of his jacket so she could pull him after her, partly afraid he’d change his mind. She raced them across the grounds to the front of the manor, then turned, about to search his pockets for his car keys only to find he already had them out and in his hand.

They got in silently, the engine roaring to life and the tires squealing against the pavement as he backed out of the driveway and onto the road. The ride across town was a blur, Arden too distracted by the thoughts circling her head to pay attention to anything other than her growing fear and anxiety.

The first thing she noticed as they approached her house was the front door, and she was already jumping out of the car before Mavek brought it to a stop on the street. She ran across the front yard, already calling for her sister, not bothering to mask the panicked note that rang clear in her voice. When she reached the door the sharp tang of copper assaulted her, and she paused, stopping so quickly she almost fell backward, bracing herself on the doorframe with both hands.

One of them landed on something wet and sticky and she froze, inhaling deeply once more, hoping she had it wrong. Slowly, she pulled her right hand away, turning it so that she could stare down at her palm.

Blood was now smeared across it.

A cry worked its way up the back of her throat, a wounded sound that had her shooting back into motion and stepping under the threshold to enter her house.

The living room was a mess, torn couch cushions and broken picture frames littering the floor. The TV had been smashed, the end table overturned, and bits of plastic from the remote crunched beneath her boots as she moved closer to the chaos. Fortunately, there weren’t any other signs of blood. However, it was becoming clear that there was no one else in the house.

They’d broken the speed limit getting here and they still hadn’t made it in time.

Bitterly, she realized they were never going to. Finch must have known Eskel was calling her. Had probably waited until they’d hung up to strike, just to mess with Arden.

To play with her.

Mavek finally entered behind her, and she clenched her hands into tight fists, observing the destruction no doubt caused by Finch.

“He’s goading you,” Mavek told her quietly.

“He’s got Ainsley and Eskel,” she was almost surprised when her tone came out even and hard, giving away none of the swirling emotions she was feeling inside. This morning, that bastard had killed her. Now, he was screwing around like this was all some sort of game between them.

Slowly, Arden turned so she could face Mavek. The Midnight King had only walked halfway into the house, still standing more in the foyer than the open living room. His hair had been tossed wildly by the wind, his skin pale as moonlight. He was dressed all in black, from the charcoal jacket to the shin-high leather boots he wore, and even as he remained still, allowing her perusal of him, she saw the flicker of danger in his eyes.

“You look like the day we met,” she told him, and then took a single step closer. He watched her unblinkingly.

She’d known from first glance what he was––had gleaned that while he was beautiful, he was also scary and deadly and threatening. That she should avoid him at all costs, even as her curiosity had gotten the best of her and she’d allowed him to approach.

Part of her had always known that Mavek Midnight was using her. He hadn’t kept the importance of the Tithe, or what he’d get out of it, from her after all. In that sense he’d always been straightforward. She’d known all along that he’d needed her, and that was the reason he’d sought her out in the first place. Now, she was the one who needed him.

“It’s my turn to use you,” she said, her words leaving no room for argument or bargaining. She wasn’t asking him. Her sister and Eskel were missing, presumably taken by that psycho Finch, and she wasn’t going to risk their safety making deals. They deserved better than that.

Is this what Mavek had felt when he’d tricked her into agreeing to participate in the Tithe? It’d been close to the deadline, and he’d been struggling to find a Heartless to contend for him. Had he been desperate, like she was now? Driven by fear for his people? If the Tithe wasn’t completed, they’d all be dragged back to the Underground with many of them, she’d been told, killed for treason for failing to make the sacrifice.

There’d been other options, as both the Erlking and Titania had found Heartless to stand for them. But Mavek’s position would surely have been compromised, his fae put in jeopardy, if he’d been unable to find one himself.

Right now, Arden would do anything for Ainsley and Eskel. Anything. Was that how Mavek had felt in the beginning?

“It’s my turn to use you,” she repeated, even though he hadn’t so much as twitched since she’d announced it a moment ago.

“Do so however you wish, heart.” He bowed his head slightly, and then grew silent once more, clearly awaiting further instructions.

She’d ponder over his actions later, how easily he’d given in, but not now. Now, all she could focus on was the seed of anger bursting to full bloom in her chest.

“We’re going to get my people back,” she said darkly.

Fire licked through her veins like lit kerosene.

“And we’re going to murder ex-Crown Prince Finch.”

She was done being manipulated. From here on out, the only games being played were the ones she set into motion. He thought he could get away with messing with her family? He thought that it’d be fun jerking her around?

She was very sure of one thing, one fact that rang through her head like a mantra.

She was going to make Finch regret ever turning her fae. Since he’d doomed her to being a monster for the rest of eternity, she was going to oblige.

Arden Rose Archer was going to be the monster that all other monsters feared.

Acknowledgments

Book two is here! This trilogy has been a long time in the making and part of me still can’t wrap my head around the fact book two (and soon three) are going to be out there in the world. I want to thank everyone who had a hand in bringing this book to fruition, especially Rianna and the rest of the team at Aionios Books!

Thanks to my mom for reading this series and giving me feedback, and thanks to my dad for all of the support! Thanks to my siblings, Kim and Daniel—especially the latter, who spends more time with me and has to deal with me when I’m in the writing zone. Congrats to my sister on getting engaged!

I want to thank my friends, Josie, Jon, Whitney, Vicky, Kat, Mary Ellen, and Marissa, for putting up with me and always being excited when I have a new release!

To my aunts, Aunt Grace and Aunt Irene: being able to send you guys my books and knowing I have your full support always gives me a burst of inspiration. Thank you for taking an interest in my career, and for making me want to work harder and improve my writing skills to make you proud!

Thanks to Lisa and Matt.

Finally, thanks to all the readers who helped with promotions, and cover reveals, and everything! Thank you to all who took the time to post a review! I hope you stick with me for the rest of this trilogy, and future works.

About the Author

Chani Lynn Feener has wanted to be a writer since the age of ten during fifth grade storytime. She majored in creative writing at Johnson State College in Vermont. To pay her bills, she has worked many odd jobs, including, but not limited to, telemarketing, order picking in a warehouse, and filling ink cartridges. When she isn't writing, she's binging TV shows, drawing, or frequenting zoos/aquariums. Chani is also the author of the teen paranormal series, The Underworld Saga, originally written under the pen name Tempest C. Avery. She currently resides in Connecticut, but lives on Goodreads.com.

To learn more about Chani, visit her website and her Amazon author page. Connect with her on Instagram and Twitter (@TempestChani).

Books by Chani Lynn Feener

Series

ROSES RED

Tithe (Book 1)

Revelry (Book 2)

THE XENITH TRILOGY

Amid Stars and Darkness (Book 1)

Between Frost and Fury (Book 2)

Within Ash and Stardust (Book 3)

THE UNDERWORLD SAGA

Unhinged (Book 1)

Unleashed (Book 2)

Unbound (Book 3)

THE SEVEN DEADLIES

Bad Things Play Here (Book 1)

Publisher’s Acknowledgments

Aionios Books, LLC, thanks the graduates of the Poetry International publishing internship program at San Diego State University.

This work would not have been possible without the creative efforts of these talented and dedicated individuals. A grateful shout-out from all of us to:

Rianna Last, for line and copy editing

Rianna is a recent graduate from SDSU with a B.A. in English and a B.A. in French. She has been obsessed with books since she could talk, and over the years, language and its many forms have become her passion. Well-traveled, Rianna enjoys encountering cultures different from her own and believes that travel fosters compassion and creativity, and allows for the sharing of experiences. A strong believer in the power of stories, Rianna dreams of working in the publishing industry to help spread impactful stories to the world.

Audrina Nguyen, for proofreading

Audrina is a Vietnamese-American aspiring writer. She likes to write anything out of the ordinary and is ready to read anyone’s wild imagination. Her hobbies are drawing, editing videos, and watching anime. She also loves to watch YouTube videos about cooking, video games, and political comedy such as Stephen Colbert, Trevor Noah, and Seth Meyers. She is currently an undergraduate at San Diego State University finishing her English major.

Jenny Minniti-Shippey, professor, for spearheading this internship program

Jennifer is the Managing Editor of Poetry International literary journal, Director of Poetic Youth programs, and a professor at San Diego State University. She is the author of Done Dating DJs, winner of the 2009 Fool for Poetry Chapbook Competition, presented by the Munster Literature Centre; Earth’s Horses & Boys, from Finishing Line Press; and After the Tour, from Calypso Editions. Her writing has appeared in Salamander, Spillway, Cider Press Review, Tar River Poetry, and others.

Revelry

(Book 2 of the Roses Red Series)

Copyright © 2020 by Chani Lynn Feener.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

For information, please address:

Aionios Books, LLC

P.O. Box 1010, Carlsbad, CA, 92018, USA.

AioniosBooks.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is coincidental.

Cover Images:

Fantasy woman portrait image by Helen Lansky, ©[Helen Lansky]/Adobe Stock

Blossoms photo by Kazuend on Unsplash

Editors:

Rianna Last, line editing

Audrina Nguyen, proofreading

Published 2020, by Aionios Books, LLC, Carlsbad, California, USA

Printed in the United States of America.

ISBN-13: 978-1-949428-04-9

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020933428

AioniosBooks.com

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