A Touch of Poison (Shadows of the Tenebris Court, #2)

“We need to get proper weapons, secure the queen’s apartments, find Kat and the others, and ensure the king is safe.” Inwardly I winced at how long the list was. “Not necessarily in that order.”

With a snort, he shook his head. “I’d say definitely not in that order.” He stroked Zita’s hair and they started towards the door. “We have some friends to save.” He turned to me and raised his eyebrows, backing away. “I’d suggest you examine your priorities, Marwood. Choose the ones who’d choose you. Fuck everyone else.”

He wasn’t going after the king—he was choosing his friends over the father who’d banished him from the city for so long.

“Good luck.” He nodded before turning and shifting mid-step, feet becoming paws, striped skin becoming a furry coat, his tail growing thick fur as it swished from side to side.

Faolán watched him leave, a thoughtful frown etched between his eyebrows. “Well? Where to?”

Good question.





86





Kat





My heart slammed against my rib cage, harder with each step the armoured fae took.

I fixed a smile on my face even though I wanted to vomit.

The corridor was empty, but if I unleashed my poison, it would linger in this closed space and kill anyone who came wandering along—innocents included.

If I let him get too close, he would draw his weapon and run me through before I managed to touch him.

Two shitty choices, and a fae who only stood eight feet away.

“You know,” I purred, tilting my head back to bare my throat, even though every part of me screamed against that vulnerability, “I came out here hoping to find a strong man like you.” Shoving down my instincts, I sauntered towards him.

He blinked, stride faltering, gaze skipping to my lower lip caught between my teeth.

“Maybe you can help me with something else before you take me back to the party.” I gave a slow smile, despite my pulse throbbing as I entered the range of his sword.

Keep going. Keep going.

I didn’t need him to believe me, I just needed him distracted for long enough.

Shifting my focus, I felt the vibration of magic around me.

Not yet. I didn’t want him to spot the telltale purple spreading over my skin.

Soon.

Fingertips trailing over my collarbone, I pushed my hair back and let him see that my hands were empty.

Nothing more than a harmless human. Not even a fae mark to say she had magic.

There was a creak of leather from near the hilt of his sword—his gauntlets perhaps as his grip shifted to the dagger. Much better for close work.

I didn’t dare lower my gaze to check.

His eyes narrowed as I took another step, but they flicked down to my tits as I arched my back so hard it felt like it was about to break.

They said fae enjoyed human women’s curves. Well, I was staking my life on it.

His eyebrows squeezed together in something that looked like regret. “I don’t think we have time for—”

“But I’m sure we do.” Closing in, I placed a hand on his chest and let him stare at that as I called magic to my other hand and rose on tiptoes.

“I’m sorry, darling.” He shook his head, and the unmistakable sound of a blade being drawn dried out my mouth.

I cupped his cheek, palm stained purple. “Me too.”

His eyes bulged as he must’ve felt the first sting. Breath held, I concentrated the poison as much as I could, drawing power from all around me. I didn’t want him to suffer, but I needed him dead.

Him or me? I chose me.

He flinched, breaking contact.

Too late.

Darkness outlined the shape of my hand on his cheek, already spreading. He went rigid, a strangled sound coming from his mouth, spittle flecking his lips.

His dagger clanged on the marble floor a moment before he slumped.

Only then did I let myself breathe—great gasps that shook through me as I checked up and down the corridor. Still empty.

Was this Hydra Ascendant? Sura had mentioned she wasn’t ready yet. And the wedding brought together all of Dawn’s royal family in one place at once time, while the Night Queen slumbered. Sending people after the king and princes would allow her to go and kill her mother while she was in Sleep, leaving just her for this “united” throne.

I grabbed his dagger and the sword. I didn’t know how to use one, but when I reached Bastian I could give it to him.

Bending over, I was about to check him for any identifying marks—a hydra insignia under his armour, perhaps—when soft voices drifted around the corner.

Hushed and urgent—these weren’t the voices of guests at a party. More attackers.

I needed to get to Bastian and our friends and warn them. I hurried towards the ballroom.

Screams bounced off the walls.

“An attack!”

“Help!”

I stopped in my tracks as fae charged around the corner. Eyes round, mouths agape—just as they’d been at the Solstice.

A panicked crowd of strong fae in an enclosed space like this? My weak human body would be crushed.

I turned tail and ran. Thank the gods, I hadn’t hazed in the corridor. But if they reached me…

I darted down the next turning and the next, gambling on blind panic carrying the fleeing fae in a straight line—the quickest, clearest escape.

Their cries and screams rolled over me as sweat slicked my palms, but after a few turns, they grew quieter. Eventually, I had no idea where I was, but I could hear nothing of the crowd.

I slowed and caught my breath, rubbing my chest where my heart thundered with a potent cocktail of adrenaline and fear. It made me shaky, breaths threatening to gasp in too fast.

Swallowing, I slid the dagger into my garter and pulled Bastian’s orrery from my cleavage. Not exactly befitting a grand palace. I chuckled to myself, a desperate sound much too close to a sob for my tastes, and ran my thumb over the chain.

Rather than cool, its metal had been warmed by my skin. But the familiar texture of its links allowed me to breathe more easily and take in my surroundings.

Fine embroideries showed the sun rising over heroic fae with gold thread woven through hair of caramel and green, straw blond and chestnut brown. Lost in Dawn’s side of the palace. Great.

I’d taken down one armoured fae who shouldn’t be here, but judging by the frightened crowd, there were more. Many more.

Bastian had to know already. They must’ve attacked the ballroom. Was he all right?

Was the fox-haired fae involved? They were armed, but they hadn’t attacked me, despite saying they owed me nothing. It might be a coincidence.

If they were involved, that meant whoever this was attacking had links to Dawn Court. Sura had mentioned spies. The fox-haired fae could be one. Perhaps?

I shook the thoughts away—that was a puzzle for later.

Right now, I walked alone through the wrong side of the palace with a sword I didn’t know how to use, a dagger I barely did, and a dress that threatened to spill my tits every time I did anything other than saunter.

Things were going swimmingly.

As I was about to turn a corner, a sound reached me—so fleeting I couldn’t work out what it was.

I froze, breath held, ears straining.

Nothing more.

Then a voice, too quiet for me to catch the words.

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