Page 167 of A War of Three Kings

“Yes, and no.” I take in their uniform, one I had never seen before my return to my capital city, and I know exactly who has taken his fortress. I curse under my breath. The need to fight has my muscles twitching.

“That bad, is it?” Edmund asks.

“These are soldiers from the Spring Court, but they are not loyal to me. They are the personal guard of the High Chancellor, who stole my throne. Titania is here. One of the fae who fought with us must have talked after I sent my force home.”

The grand doors of the castle crash open and a tall fae man steps outside, clutching Caitlin by the shoulders and pushing her in front of him. His long black hair is loose, reaching down his back in a smooth curtain, and his pale facial features are so delicate they are almost feminine.

He is the mirror of his mother.

I would recognize that evil anywhere.

“What are you doing here, Torin?” I stalk over to him, mustering every bit of malice into my expression as I scowl at him. I allow the horns, stripes and claws of my primal form to materialize. He used to cry and run away from my very presence as a child.

“Get your hands off my daughter!” Edmund roars, launching forward at the same moment. With a rustle of moving bodies, the archers maneuver to point their arrows at him. At Keira, who has rushed to his side. Edmund leaves his sword half drawn and raises both his hands.

The sight of all those missiles threatening my mate awakens a vicious beast within, and I grapple with the maddening intensity of the snarling creature to stop myself from tossing those archers from the wall. I wouldn’t be fast enough to kill them before they loosed a volley of arrows at us.

My power rears up within me anyway.

Torin’s golden eyes flick over to me. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Innocents might die, and we all know how you like to play the big protector.” He glances down at Caitlin with a cruel smile on his lips, his fingers digging deeper into her flesh as he shakes her by the shoulders. “Why don’t you tell them why we are here, sweetheart?”

A wave of torment rolls over me from Keira, pierced with spikes of anxiety. I truly look at Caitlin for the first time since arriving. Her face is bloodless, her eyes red-rimmed and moving frantically. There is crusted blood matting her hairline. I have never seen her so desperate or afraid, not even on the eve of battle.

Caitlin swallows hard. “The High Chancellor Titania of the Spring Court arrived yesterday morning. She demands to discuss the trade agreement between humans and fae.” Her glassy eyes dart to me and panic blooms in them. “Aldrin, she will harm?—”

Torin yanks her by the hair and tosses her through the open doorway, not caring that she trips. “That is enough from you,” he snarls.

“Don’t you DARE manhandle her!” Edmund screams, charging after him with his scattering of guards.

“Don’t you know who I am?” Torin laughs, stepping into the keep. “I am the High Chancellor’s son. I can do whatever I want.”

“The gods help me. I am going to kill them all.” I shake with the rage billowing through me, stalking after them with Keira in tow, half holding her back from clawing the man’s eyes out. I hear her thoughts screaming at her to do exactly that.

“We’d better see their hand first,” Cyprien says.

Fae jump from the wall down into the courtyard, giving us little choice as they push us forward. Multiple hands grip my arms and shoulders and shove at my back. I hold Keira protectively in front of me so none of them can touch her.

We are brought to the great hall, where festivities are in full swing. Garlands hang from the walls. Trestle tables are set up with a banquet of food: an entire roasted pig, platters of vegetables, flaky pastries. Human women are scantily dressed, serving the fae food or pitchers of wine and being pulled into their laps. The servants’ faces are red with shame, and many have tears running down their cheeks. A band plays music and more humans perform dances on small pedestals, while fae soldiers leer.

My heart nearly stops when my eyes fall on Titania.

She sits on a throne she has dragged onto a dais, a chalice of wine in one hand—and a tiny baby cradled carelessly in the other. Morgana.

Maeve stands beside the throne, eyes glued to her granddaughter, jumping forward and abruptly stopping herself each time the baby’s head lolls unsupported when the High Chancellor laughers or barks orders at humans. There is a series of purple bruises across Keira’s mother’s face.

She has tried to intervene multiple times.

Keira halts, taking in the horror of the slight. The sheer abuse. Then her eyes fall upon her niece. Waves of black fury run off her as her thoughts churn with incoherent death anddarkness. I shove her behind me, into Cyprien’s arms, giving him a silent command with a single look:Hold her back.

I stride straight up to the dais, arms spread wide. “Okay, Titania, you have my attention. Let the humans go and we will speak.”

Titania’s eyes are enchanted to glow with golden light, and they widen with delight as they fall on me. Her black lips curl into a smile and the many golden chains of her diadem sway as she turns her head to me.

She clicks fingers that end in long, black nails and the orchestra abruptly stops playing.The dancing humans scurry away.

“Oh, Aldrin, you were always far too egotistical. How embarrassing for you.” She cackles. “I don’t give a damn about you or your attention. I’m here for the Lord Protector.” She looks past me, clicking her fingers again. “Caitlin, my pet. Where are you? Come, sit at my feet again and introduce me to your father.”

Edmund shoves his way through the crowd and storms to my side, right as Torin drags Caitlin by the arm at an awkward angle and throws her on the dais at Titania’s feet. To my shock, she doesn’t lash back or snarl. No, she rushes to Titania’s side, where her baby is being roughly handled by the High Chancellor.

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