Kel groaned from behind them and Evelayn jumped back.
“I see one of your fears is getting caught,” Tanvir teased, even though he felt hot and cold all at once, his blood pounded through his veins like a warning. Do you know what you’re doing? That little voice in his head nagged at him. The answer was no, he had no clue what he was doing. But he knew he loved her. And if she loved him … perhaps … just maybe there was a way to be together. Somehow. Even though she was who she was. And he was who he was. Could they make it work? Despite everything?
“I think he’s waking up. I hope his leg healed enough to run today.” Evelayn watched Kel while Tanvir watched her.
“I’ll get us something to eat and then we should get started,” Tanvir suggested, standing and glancing toward the eastern horizon, where the sun was nearly risen. It was no time to worry about whether they could be together or not—first they had to finish what had been started. They had to defeat Bain. Only then could they begin to hope for a future.
Together or not.
Shifting was like breathing to Lorcan. He dove out of the darkened sky toward the tower but had returned to his Draíolon form before his feet even touched the stones.
His mother waited for him in the shadows, her cloak pulled up against the wind that buffeted the turret. Lorcan bent to kiss her cheek, and he felt it crease into a smile.
“I take it the trip was successful?”
“Indeed.” He straightened and glanced around to make sure they were truly alone.
“There’s no one here besides us. Do you think me that careless?” Abarrane pulled her cloak more tightly around her body. “But we must return soon or your father will begin to wonder.”
“Of course.” Lorcan held out his arm, but she didn’t take it.
“All the pieces are falling into place, my son.”
He nodded, even though he couldn’t quite quell the jump in his pulse that belied the fears born of a lifetime of being ruled by his father’s bloody fists.
“And what of Lothar?”
Abarrane’s nose wrinkled at the mention of her second son. “He will have his part to play, just as we all do.”
“But does he know that?”
She was silent for a long moment. “We’d best return. Dinner will begin soon and you know how much Bain hates it when we enter a meal late.”
His mother wound her fingers around his bicep, making it seem as though he were guiding her, when in reality her nails had dug into his skin, propelling him forward, toward the door that would take them down a long winding staircase, back into the depths of the palace.
They walked into the dining hall side by side, but luckily no one had sat down to eat yet, so their entrance didn’t cause any undue attention.
His mother let go of his arm to take her place beside the king. Lorcan saw Lothar standing by himself a few strides away, watching those gathered silently. He made his way to his brother’s side and nodded a hello.
“How was the flight?”
Lorcan successfully hid his surprise that Lothar knew he’d been gone in his hawk form and ignored the question. “Father seems to be in a celebratory mood.”
“You know he’s always happiest right before murdering hundreds of Draíolon.”
“Careful, Loth, or you might be accused of treason and join those hundreds.” Lorcan’s voice was mocking, but the warning was sincere.
“You might be careful yourself, Lorc, or you might be accused of becoming just like him.” Lothar’s disgust left a rank smell lingering in his wake as he stormed away.
Lorcan grabbed a goblet of mulberry wine from a passing server bearing trays of the drink and downed half of it in one long gulp. The liquid warmed his throat and belly, but not enough. Once, Lothar had looked at him with hero worship in his eyes. Once, they had been so close, they didn’t even know the meaning of the word secrets.
That had been a long time ago.
The bell rang to signal the start of supper, and Lorcan sighed. He finished the rest of the wine and placed the empty goblet down on a side table before sauntering over to the large dinner table.
“My son—my heir! Here, sit at my side.” His father gestured to the seat on his left.
“Of course, Father.” Lorcan smiled through gritted teeth and did as the king bade, all too aware of Lothar’s cold stare from farther down the table.
When everyone had been seated, King Bain signaled for the servants to pour wine in everyone’s goblets and then he stood, holding the gleaming crystal aloft so that it flashed in the firelight.
“Many, many years have led us to this moment. Only one obstacle remains, but not for long!”
Lorcan’s gaze flickered to his mother. She smiled brightly up at her husband, ever the dutiful wife and supportive queen.
“And so tonight, raise your glasses with me!”
All the other Draíolon did as he commanded, lifting their glasses toward their king. Lorcan reached for his as well, his fingers so tight on the flute he had to consciously remind himself to relax before he snapped it in half.
“To the ultimate victory!” King Bain roared.
“To the ultimate victory,” Lorcan echoed darkly with everyone else’s enthusiastic cries, and then drained his entire goblet of blood-red wine.
THEY ARRIVED AT CEREN’S FAMILY HOME JUST BEFORE sunset the next day, their progress hampered by Kel’s only partially healed leg. There were no servants or groundspeople to be seen, just as Evelayn had instructed. Only one window in the large manor glowed from the light of a fire within as the sky darkened to a bruised navy purple above them.
Even though Tanvir had offered to help support Kel, he’d refused, choosing to limp in silent pain all day through the forest toward the rendezvous point. Evelayn was relieved to see signs that Ceren was still waiting for them as they hurried as quickly as they were able, despite their being much later than planned.
It was all part of the ruse; none of her subjects had seen her leave with Ceren, they’d only been told that’s where the queen had disappeared to. But they would all see her coming back with her dearest friend, her two trusted advisors and guards in attendance—if things went as planned.
They were halfway across the overgrown gardens when the side door banged open and Ceren burst out with a relieved, “Oh, thank the Light, I’d thought you’d all died!”
Even though she was being perfectly sincere, for some reason her exclamation made Evelayn burst out laughing. And once she started, she couldn’t stop. Ceren’s eyes widened in surprise, but when Evelayn doubled over, clutching her stomach, she heard Ceren ask, “Is she … all right?”