Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)

Damn. I’m supposed to be mad at him. I was mad at him.

The dark-haired fae glanced at Falin’s hands on my arms and then lifted his sword. “Release her. She is a guest of my court and under my protection. If the Winter Queen or her bloodied hands wish to have her against her wil , you wil have to go through me.”

Falin’s grip on my arms tightened and he dragged me back a step, but this time there was nothing suggestive to back a step, but this time there was nothing suggestive to it. He cursed, his voice a low growl, and I could almost hear how hard his teeth gritted. Then he leaned in and whispered, “Alex, she commanded me to capture you. I can’t release you until you are either incapacitated or submit to being my prisoner.”

“Do no such thing, Alexis,” the dark armored fae said, jumping forward, his sword swinging. “I wear my own blood, boy. You’l not find me an easy opponent.”

Falin lifted one of his large daggers to block the shadow sword and in the same movement swung me behind him.

“I’ve no quarrel with you, Shadow King.”

King?

The other fae kept coming, his sword trailing darkness in its wake. “You threaten my own kin, so you most definitely have quarrel with me, boy.”

Kin?

“Stop. Both of you. Stop!” I didn’t step between them this time because their swords were just blurs as they moved and they seemed damn determined to kil each other and I wasn’t about to get in the middle of it. They didn’t stop at my words, so I said, “Falin, I submit. You captured me and I’m a prisoner or whatever.”

“Alexis, no,” the stranger said, his sword wavering for a single moment.

Falin took the moment to jump back, disengaging. He didn’t drop his blades, but he lifted his hands and turned his daggers sideways so that the edges and point were not aimed at the other fae. It wasn’t a surrender, simply a motion to cease the fight amicably. “Does this mean you forgive me?” Falin cal ed back over his shoulder.

Did I forgive him? Probably not. I almost said as much, but then I realized what he was doing. If I forgave him, that enormous debt between us was mine to cal him on.

The Shadow King glanced between us, his sword final y lowering as if he had just figured out what we were playing at. Falin nodded to him and lowered his weapons as wel .

at. Falin nodded to him and lowered his weapons as wel .

He walked over, his blue eyes locked on me, cautious but expectant.

I felt the debt between us. It was stil only potential. I couldn’t forgive him in words alone—I actual y had to mean it. But could I forgive him? I considered what I’d seen in the hal s of the winter court. He did as his queen commanded.

He obeyed and came to her cal , but he had no choice.

Caleb had agreed that Falin had to obey. I could forgive him what he had no choice in. I nodded to him and felt the debt between us solidify.

“You owe me a favor,” I said, choosing my words slowly.

“I’m your captive, but release me and your debt wil be cleared.”

He winced and bowed his head. “I cannot grant you a favor that contradicts a direct order from my queen.”

Well, crap. Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe he real y only wanted to know I forgave him and it had nothing to do with the debt. He looked up at me again, and there were questions in the cool blue depths of his eyes, almost a plea.

No, he wants me to ask him for something.

But what?

What would help me but not contradict the queen? He couldn’t release me, but she hadn’t given him the rest of her command, so what was he supposed to do with me next?

Probably drag me back to the winter court. That would be bad.

“Fine,” I said. “I’m your captive, but I request that you not return me to the winter court.”

“Done.” He gave a sharp nod, relief smoothing the dip that had gathered above his nose. He looked up at the other fae. “Is that sufficient for you, Shadow King?”

“Quite.” The king sheathed his sword. “Now, my most darling Alexis, we have so much to discuss,” he said, walking toward me with his arms open as if he meant to hug me.

The Shadow King might have just rescued me from the The Shadow King might have just rescued me from the winter court, but the old saying about frying pans and fire was how my life tended to go, so I wasn’t about to drop my guard. Or be hugged by a strange fae. I took a step toward Falin and the king stopped, frowning. The look he shot Falin was more than just unfriendly.

“I don’t welcome the Winter Queen’s bloodied hands into my court. You should go, boy,” he said.

I shrugged. “Point us to the exit.”

The king faltered, his handsome features showing true shock for a moment before he recovered. “But you’ve only just returned home, my dearest niece.”





Chapter 32


Home? And perhaps an even bigger question—“Niece?”

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