Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
“He didn’t want the shadow fae to have access to the fire gems.”
Misha nods. His eyes go dark as he turns his head to look out at the bright, sunny day. “Generations of Seelie rulers have sent their armies to fight for the land east of the River of Ice that cuts the mountain range down the middle, believing they could claim the land as their own. Countless golden fae have died for that mission, and countless shadow fae have died defending those lands. And now my sources tell me that history is repeating itself. I fear that this time the Court of the Moon will be too weak to protect their territory.”
Has Arya always been like this—so cold and heartless? Or did Oberon’s rejection break something in her?
“Perhaps a little of both,” Misha says, answering my unspoken question, and this time I don’t even complain about the intrusion. “She’s the youngest ruler her kingdom has ever had. She never should’ve been allowed to take the throne when she did.”
I shake my head. “War, fire gems, the queen—what does any of this have to do with me?”
“You alone hold sway over both Sebastian and Finn. You alone hold the power of the Unseelie crown. You could be the key to uniting the courts and helping protect future generations. If you will help me, help them, we can—”
“No.” My chair screeches as I shove it back and jump to my feet. “I will not be manipulated again.”
“No one is manipulating you. I am asking for your help. You think this is all about power. You think that nothing you do will help people like you—fae who are victims of their own circumstances.”
“Get out of my head,” I growl. I’m so mad I’m shaking. I’m angry and I’m frustrated and I’m so sick of being used so that these spoiled males and their twisted courts can get the power they crave.
“There’s more I need to show you, Abriella.” He extends an arm, and another hawk swoops down and perches on his wrist. “There’s more to see. Don’t you want to know what happened after the throne rejected Sebastian?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t want to see it. I don’t care. I’m done with faerie politics. They can destroy the whole damn realm for all I care. Figure it out without me.”
I turn on my heel and storm back to my room, even though it’s not really mine. Nothing’s mine, and I have nowhere to go.
I lied to Misha.
I said I didn’t care, but we both know that’s not true. I care more than I want to. My problem is I don’t trust—not Misha, not Finn, not even the emotions I’m feeling through my bond with Sebastian. I don’t trust anyone and don’t plan on that changing anytime soon.
Unfortunately, unlike Misha, I can’t read thoughts to find out someone’s true intentions.
Since I’m not sure how Misha’s power works, it’s not like I can use my shadows to spy on him. For all I know, he’d sense my thoughts even if he couldn’t see me in the room, rendering my ability to hide in shadows useless.
The second he mentioned that Finn was the one who wanted to help the commoners in the Unseelie realm, I felt myself softening, listening a little more intently. Then he spoke of protecting future generations, and I realized I was being played. Misha is no different from the others—telling me exactly what I need to hear to get me to act exactly as he wants me to act.
But I won’t be played again. The only thing I can trust is that no one can be trusted.
I collapse on my bed, not bothering to remove my boots, and try to think. Part of me wants to listen to Misha’s plan. That part wants to know how I can help Finn and Sebastian avoid another costly war. I want to know what I can do to keep the queen from claiming more power. An image of that awful “camp” flashes in my mind, and the reminder of the children in cages sends a surge of anger through me.
Rolling my face into my pillow, I release a muffled scream. I have nowhere to go, so if having a room here is contingent on helping Misha, I don’t know what I’ll do. I just need . . . time. Time to get more information. Time to make my own decisions.
Maybe I can’t spy on Misha, but Sebastian doesn’t have those powers. If I blend to shadow around him, I might be able to get some of the information I need.
I hop out of bed and rush to the door. When I pull it open, Misha’s standing on the other side, his fist raised, as if he’s about to knock.
I cock out a hip and fold my arms. “Why knock? Didn’t you know I was coming to the door?”