“I didn’t need an army to take you down. I only needed to distract you—while I collected your mate. My spies told me you’d found yours, but I scarcely believed an abomination like you got a fated female.”

Rune’s hand dipped to his quiver. He’d wanted a fair fight; Saetthan had targeted his woman. All bets were off.

His fingertips brushed the flights of one-and-done. He’d string it among four poison arrows. Those would hit lower; the guards would dive and take them leaving Saetthan to contend with Rune’s most precisely lethal arrow.

“Ah-ah, Rune,” Saetthan chided, all confidence. “If you aim for me, your pretty pet will lose her head.”

Rune gave a laugh. “If you believe that, then your spies didn’t tell you quite enough about her.”

Saetthan shuttered a look of puzzlement. “You’ll forfeit either your life or hers this night, to pay for taking my mother’s.”

Keeping Saetthan in his sights, Rune said, “Josie?”

“I got this. Do what you gotta do.” She began to dematerialize, to the swordsman’s shock. Descending through the floor, she forced the intangible male down as well. She made it slow, eerie.

“What trickery is this?” Saetthan demanded. “Your mate’s as much an abomination as you are!”

While Saetthan gaped, Rune nocked his arrows, unleashing them with all his might.

Each guard caught two.

Reacting with uncanny speed, Saetthan swung his sword up to deflect the one-and-done.

The arrowhead connected with the blade.

Light erupted. A boom like a thunderclap.

The sword . . . exploded !

Charred metal bit into Saetthan’s skin. Shards hissed and cooled as they plummeted, clanging against the glass floor. The blast hit the glass dome above; ominous fractures forked out.

My gods. Rune had destroyed the sword—the uniting symbol of that entire accursed family. He quickly fired another volley into the smoke.

By the time the air cleared, Saetthan had disappeared.

Rune turned to Josephine. She’d dragged the swordsman to his waist, and he’d comprehended his fate; there was no fighting her. The hunter was terrified, his short yells chilling.

The two sank below the glass floor, visible for a few moments as a dwindling flicker. Gasps sounded among the attendees still present on the outskirts of the ballroom.

Josephine surfaced. Alone.

Her secret was out. She must have the strength of an alliance to depend on.

She gazed around at the appalled spectators. “Anybody else want to go to their grave tonight? I’ll bury you so deep, they’ll never find your body down there. You might die. Odds are . . . you won’t.”

Oh, yes, he could get used to having her around.

She turned to him with a sunny smile. “Best. Date. Ever.”

His lips curled. And it was in no way finished.

Rune might have missed his opportunity to kill Saetthan, but that sword had been annihilated. Josephine was unharmed. All was well.

As soon as the thought occurred, another crack sounded from above as fractures spread out like webbing.

“Quickly,” he told her. “Let’s see if we get a clue.” They hastened to a swordsman who hadn’t yet succumbed to poison. Wide-eyed, the male twisted in pain, his limbs contorted. Rune bent down to him. “Any message from Nïx? She’s surely the one who gave you my whereabouts.”

Silence.

“Talk, or the phantom will take you to hell.”

His eyes somehow got wider. “We each carried . . . a note for you. Pocket!”

Rune retrieved it.

Congratulations on reaching the bonus level! Now’s your turn to try and get past my wraiths. Thaddeus and I will be in attendance at Val Hall tomorrow night, awaiting the pleasure of your (failed) arrival (attempts).

XOXO, Nïx the Ever-Knowing

Rune rewarded the male with a quick decapitation.

“What does it say?” Josephine asked.

“Nïx invites us to Val Hall. Tomorrow we’ll face her—in her den.” Considering the damage his arrow had done to that sword, how would the wraiths fare against a volley of them?

When Josephine nodded, his attention dipped to the nick on her throat, and his heart thundered anew. Her dried blood matched the color of her choker.

My blood courses through her veins. Only mine.

Fractures continued to fork out above. Need to trace her away—

She took his hands. With a grin, she made them intangible. She gazed up at him with that same adoring look she’d given him on the dance floor. Females had cast him that look for ages.

For the first time, he wanted to earn it.

The ceiling splintered, then shattered in a deafening burst. He and Josephine smiled at each other as shards fell like rain, passing harmlessly through them.

FIFTY-ONE

I’m in freaking Australia, wearing a ball gown!

Rune had picked up a pack of supplies in Tortua, then traced her here: to the base of Ayers Rock in the middle of the outback.

He stood behind her, his hands covering her shoulders, his rings warming against her skin. “What do you think? Do you find it quaint?”

She elbowed him. “This place is unreal!” The rock was the same color as a terra-cotta pot. Yet as the sun set, purple tinged it.

The shade of Rune’s eyes when he was relaxed.

Over her shoulder, she asked, “You’ve been here before?” The full moon they’d enjoyed in Titania was just rising here.

“On occasion. The portal to the Quondam realm is nearby. Among mortals, this monolith is central to Aboriginal lore. It’s known as the ancestors’ rock. The Aborigines revere their ancestors.” He traced her to the plateau.