“But, your majesty, these two have—”
“I said stand down.” Her silver eyes glint deadly, and the soldiers obey, sheathing their weapons and backing away.
I lower my sword to my side but keep it ready.
“You slew Lord Tyrios.” It’s an emphatic statement, not a question.
“I did.” I meet her silver eyes as her diamond spell shimmers and dissipates.
“Was there a reason?” She seems almost bored as she releases my sword.
“He threatened my—”
Gareth coughs into his hand.
I take the easy hint not to mention that Taylor is my mate. “He threatened to kill a changeling female.”
“Oh?” A sly smile plays at the corners of her red lips. “Is it a special one perhaps?” Her gaze slides past me, as if she knows exactly where Taylor went. “Where is she, by the way?”
“She is mine.” I bite the words out. “And no one will harm her. If they do, they will suffer the wrath of the winter wind.” An icy breeze wraps around us, pushing at the summer heat. My magic is barely contained and wants to lash out as badly as I do. But with my emotions churning with the discovery of my mate, it would be like setting off a powerful bomb of snow and ice, destruction and death.
“Lord Tyrios was one of my top advisors and one of the oldest fae in my service.” She levels me with a hard stare. “You’ve taken him from me at a time when we need all the counsel we can get to solve the growing threat along our borders. And you’ve turned the rest of my court against you with this rash act.” She shakes her head gracefully. “Where we had grown a bond between our realms, now the fabric is torn.”
“I drew blood in the summer realm, which is a stain upon our truce.” I sheath my sword. “But I would do it again to one such as Lord Tyrios.”
“That’s not helping.” She waves a hand, and the diamond barrier from before forms around the three of us, effectively cutting off her soldiers from hearing our conversation. “I understand why you did it. She is your mate.”
I tense, but I can’t deny it. I will never deny Taylor.
Her shrewd gaze lightens a bit, but her brow remains troubled. “This has created another wrinkle between us. And, though I realize you don’t agree, Tyrios did have a legal claim to the changeling. My nobles call for winter realm blood in retaliation.”
“Then take mine.” Gareth steps forward. “I have plenty to spare.”
“It’s not that simple.” She eyes him. “Though your bravery does you credit.”
“Do you seek blood, as well?” I ask.
She sighs. “I’ve lived for far too long to play the short game. Tyrios’s blood is still warm, but his line will continue without him. The summer realm will quickly bury his memory and focus on new scandals or trivialities. At least, that’s my hope.” She turns and gazes toward the west, as if she can see beyond the garrison wall. “Keeping them steeped in gossip and spats means we don’t have any true enemies knocking at our doors. When they get quiet and pay attention, that’s when I worry. But the disappearances, they trouble me. And solving them is more important than Tyrios at the moment.”
She’s more level-headed than I ever gave her credit for. Beneath the summer realm glitz, she has the mind of a tactician and a cunning sort of foresight.
“What do you suggest?” I eye the soldiers who wait with caged aggression beyond the wall of diamond.
“I will call off my guard so you can escape, but I can’t promise my nobles won’t give chase. Some of them are so old that their insides are twisted with malice and hate.”
“Like Tyrios?” Gareth spits.
“Worse. Far worse. And he had plenty of allies who will feel the sting of his loss. I wouldn’t be surprised if assassins have already been dispatched for you. Make haste from the summer realm.” She holds a hand out toward the diamond encasement but pauses and meets my eye again. “Your mate. She’s different. There’s something about her I can’t place. Be wary.” With a snap of her fingers, the barrier fades, and she orders her soldiers to return to the castle and their posts.
They stare for a moment, disbelief flitting across some of their faces, then disband under the calm stare of their queen.
The pull to Taylor is strong, and she’s been out of my sight for far too long. I motion to Gareth. With a brief nod to the queen, I turn and dash away from the gate. Gareth guards my back as we barrel into the busy city street.
“Where did they go?” I peer past the gawking city fae, searching the sidewalks for her.
A male approaches from the right with another behind him. My hackles rise, my fangs lengthening. They push changelings and lesser fae out of their way as they stalk toward us.
“Leander.” Gareth draws his knives.
“I see them.”
“That changeling from the dungeon. She’s clever. Would have made for the stables when things got hairy.” He sidesteps me and shoots out a hand, swiping a throwing blade from the air just before it makes contact with my skull.
“I would’ve caught that,” I say as the metal clangs to the ground, and the assassin who threw it palms another.
Gareth grins and twirls his knives. “Go, I’ve got these two.”
“You can’t—”
“You’re the hope for our future—you and your mate.” He darts toward the two fae as the crowd senses the danger and parts for him. “Go. I’ll catch up!”
I hate to leave him, but he can take care of himself. Taylor is the one who needs my protection. Turning, I hurry down the lane, the crowd dwindling as danger coils through the air. I’m almost to the road leading to the stables when a silver blade pierces my shoulder.
11
Taylor
“Here!” Lenetia yanks me into a muddy yard in front of a long gray building.
The street is clearing quickly, fae running into nearby businesses and narrow alleyways as the sound of fighting rings out behind us.
A fae stands at the entrance to the building, his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze trained on us. He asks a question.
Lenetia does the subservient thing again, staring at the muddy hay on the ground, and responds.
He spits, his gaze narrowing. Whatever she said, he clearly doesn’t believe her.
“What’s going on?” I edge closer to her.
“He won’t give us the horses.”
“I certainly won’t.” He speaks English. “There’s no way the lord of winter sent you two changeling wastrels for his fine horses.” He steps closer and reaches for us. “In the summer realm, horse thieves like you two get the lash. Or maybe I should call the Catcher, see if he’s on the hunt for escaped slaves.”
We try to back away, but he’s too fast, his meaty hands gripping our arms and dragging us forward.
“Get your hands off!” I try to pry his fingers loose, but it’s like trying to bend iron, and he drags both of us into the stables.
“When the king hears of this, he’ll—”
“Shut up.” He slaps Lenetia, and she drops onto a bale of hay, one hand at her mouth.
My hand goes to the pocket of my dress, and my skin meets cold metal. I grip the dagger’s hilt.
“And you, slave.” He yanks me so close I can smell some sort of alcohol on his breath. “You’ll need a proper lashing. Leather on your bare skin.” He licks his lips, then snatches at the front of my gown.
I scream and fight him, but he’s too strong, and the fabric gives a little at the seam along my side.
Lenetia stands and rushes him. He shoves her back so hard her head cracks on the wall, and she goes limp.
“Lenetia!” I struggle to get to her, but he wraps his arm around my waist and wrenches me away.
A horse whinnies deeper in the stables as someone screams in the street outside.
“Brought some trouble with you, eh? Let’s see what’s up under here, little changeling.”
I swing wildly at him, but he grabs a handful of my hair, pulling so hard my scalp burns.