My nails sharpen, pricking the fabric of her couch. She has no idea that her words will determine what I do next.

“Who?” she asks, her wicked lips forming a perfect “O”.

“Slaves,” I say. “You mark them and keep them. Why?”

A heavy hand snakes under my arm. “That’s enough fun, love,” Des says, hoisting me out of Mara’s lap.

I nearly fight him. I can practically feel her blood between my fingers.

Quieter, he whispers, “Save your vendettas, cherub.”

Rather than setting me back in my seat, Des settles us both on his, pulling me into his lap. My vengeance is only curbed by the slow strokes of his hand against my side.

Mara’s low-lidded eyes watch us. “Have you heard the story of my sister?” she asks, staring at me contemplatively.

She doesn’t wait for me to respond.

“Thalia Verdana,” she says, “the most powerful Flora heir to be born within this millennia. No great beauty, but what is beauty to power?” Mara’s eyes go distant. “Of course, to Thalia, beauty was everything. She coveted what she didn’t have.”

The Flora Queen’s eyes drift over me and Des. “Of course, one also knows you don’t need beauty if you’ve found love instead—and she found it in a traveling minstrel of all things. At least, that’s what we assumed he was.”

Mara stirs her cup of tea idly. “Our parents were scandalized by the match, but that didn’t stop Thalia from seeing him.

“Did you know fairies can bargain away their power?” Mara says to me. “They can share it, they can gift it, but they cannot bequeath it—death severs all deals.”

She takes in my glowing skin. “He ended up being an enchanter—a fairy who could ensorcell other fairies with a wish and a kiss. Thalia fell under his spell …

She clears her throat. “My parents killed him before he could destroy our kingdom. Of course, by then Thalia was too far gone. She followed him to the Kingdom of Death.

“That’s how I became heir to this kingdom.”

Mara gives us a tight smile. “It has been a long time since I’ve met an enchanter—and never a human one. I find that despite all my reservations, you hold me captivated …” Her eyes flicker with desire as she takes me in.

“Yes, Callie does have that effect on people,” Des says, his voice a touch possessive. “Now what were we talking about?” Des looks first to me, then to Mara. He snaps his fingers. “Ah, yes, now I remember. Mara, you were insinuating that I was behind the recent disappearances.”

She rearranges herself in her seat. “When several witnesses all see the same thing, one has to wonder …”

This is the second time in two days another ruler has cast doubt on Des’s innocence.

I want to lash out again.

“It’s not him,” I growl. The sound that comes out of my mouth is both harsh and melodic. “Janus took me. Either you must cast suspicion on both of these kings or on neither of them.”

The Flora Queen reaches out to one of the vines, and it begins to twine itself up her arm. “None of the other captured women have complained that the Day King has abducted them,” she says. “Only you, the mate of the Night King, have. How do I know you aren’t just protecting him?”

Only Des’s ironclad grip across my waist keeps me from throttling the fae queen.

“Furthermore,” she says, “those captured women have all said that they were taken once they dozed off. Sleep, as you know, is ruled by the Night Kingdom.”

It all leads back to Des. Why does it all lead back to Des?

My skin dims as I consider this worrying thought.

“And yet here we are, sitting and talking as civilized people.” Des leans forward. “You haven’t sanctioned my kingdom, nor kicked me out of the festivities. You haven’t barred me from any part of the celebration, even though I broke the neutrality agreement two nights ago when I fought Janus. Your actions—or lack thereof—don’t strike me as those of a concerned queen.”

The vines around Mara begin to whip about. “Do not presume to know my intentions, Desmond Flynn.” The room fills up with her power, the air nauseatingly thick with the smell of flowers.

Des’s eyes spark. “Send me and my mate away, Mara. We will leave, Solstice can continue, and you can test your theory concerning my guilt,” he challenges, his voice hypnotic.

The Flora Queen’s power still fills the room like a rain cloud poised to break wide open. But rather than unleashing her wrath, Mara appraises Des. “Give me your oath that you are innocent, and this can end,” she says.

The Bargainer, a man who makes half of his living striking deals with fools, doesn’t hesitate now. “I will give you an oath in exchange for one.”

“I beg your pardon?” Mara says, looking affronted.

“I will swear you an oath of innocence, if you, in return, promise me fifty years of an unbreakable alliance between the Flora and Night Kingdom.”

A swell of anger rises at the back of Mara’s eyes, the floral smell once again thickens the air. “You would dare to leverage my good graces?”

“I would have you as an ally, not an enemy.”

And to think that only minutes ago, I was five hot seconds away from opening a can of whoopass on that woman.

Des’s words seem to pacify most of her anger. She leans back in her seat. “Fine.”

Using one arm to still hold me in place, the Bargainer reaches out with his other, and Mara grasps it.

The moment they clasp hands, the air around them wavers, rippling like waves of water.

“I swear to the Undying Gods, I am not behind the disappearances.”

The queen’s body seems to relax. She nods.

“I swear to the Undying Gods on behalf of my kingdom that for fifty years we will ally with the Night Kingdom.”

The moment the words are spoken, the magic rippling around them implodes, sucking itself back into their clasped hands.

And then it’s over.

Chapter 37

“Enjoying yourself, slave?”

I spin, looking around the Flora Queen’s dark forest for the man who spoke. The sacred oaks around me shiver in the night air.

That voice …

So familiar.

But there’s no one here in the forest, no one but me.

I rub my arms, not sure how I myself ended up in the queen’s sacred oak grove.

No matter, I’ll just fly back to my room.

At my back, my wings open, beating a few times to loosen up.

I feel something drip onto my arm. Another wet drop splats against my hair.

I lift my forearm to my eyes. In the darkness, I can barely make out the fluid, only that it’s dark.

Dark and warm.

I suck in a breath.

Blood.

Another drop hits the crown of my head. I glance above me at the latticework of branches. The bark is oozing blood, and the longer I look, the heavier it flows down the trees. I can hear drops of it hitting the leaves of the forest floor. It sounds like the beginning of a storm, the blood first coming in soft patters, then faster and faster. The droplets hit my skin and my clothes.

“Life and death are such intimate lovers.” A voice cuts through the darkness. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

A man steps out of the woods, his irises and plaited hair as dark as the night.

He’s everything I ever imagined a fairy to be before I met Des. The upturned eyes, the pouty, expressive mouth, the straight, narrow nose, and pointed ears. He has the sinister beauty I’ve read about in fairy tales.