Page 41 of The Rebel Seer

“Except I’m not the high priest in this sithein.” Dev says the words slow, as though he has to process them.

“No,” I agree. “It was all very quick, but according to Clem and the nymph in the pond, in this sithein, Devinshea Quinn killed his mother and brother and took the throne. I don’t know how long ago that was. I do know that Clem hates you. She said something about you killing many non-sidhe Fae. I think you might have killed her. She was terrified of you. Well, she was until she figured out you aren’t you.”

“Also, bastard child? Really, Papa?” Rhys chuckles like this is funny.

“Well, they will obviously have questions, and I doubt you’re my child in this world since I don’t think he even knew your mother’s name is Zoey.” Dev’s jaw is tight, his anxiety obvious. “Shy, do you have comprehension of what’s happened?”

I am no science pro, but I can take a wild guess. “I think we somehow stumbled on a different timeline.”

“So like when Aunt Zoey fell into that painting thing?” Cassie asks.

“No, that was a portal to another plane, but it was still the timeline we were born in.” The king suddenly sounds very academic. “Or rather the one we understood. There are some who believe our version of reality is merely a layer that we move through. The planes themselves are physical spaces while what we’re dealing with is time and fractures of reality. Think of it like a layered cake. They exist on top of one another, related but not the same. That’s why the sithein looks the same but something happened to make the Fae here radically different from the court we know.”

“Yes, apparently I am a massive asshole who killed my family to take the throne,” Dev says with bitterness flowing.

“It’s not you, babe,” the queen replies, and her hand rubs over his arm.

“The king is right about the layers.” I do know a bit about this. I remember my family debating endlessly about the difference of moving through physical portals and the walls thinning between timelines. “My aunt could hear near timelines. Like the ones on top of or below us. Or maybe to the left or right. I’m not sure how it runs, but she could hear them. I think it’s safe to say that we were either led to the wrong door or the blue dolerite facilitated a switch in timelines. The dead I’ve spoken to here were all interested in the crystals we carry. I have to believe they have some kind of power beyond simply opening the door. That’s why they made sure we had enough, or we might have lost someone.”

“Well, I suggest we turn this around and go back to the caves,” Dev says. “We can find another way.”

Oh, that was not going to work for me. I know I cannot leave this place until I figure out why I feel the tug of those mountains. “Your Grace, we’re here for a reason. I don’t know why Arawn sent us, but I do know I’m supposed to be here. So I understand if you need to take your family back, but I’m going to stay and figure out why I’m here.”

Rhys goes stiff behind me. “You most certainly are not.”

A bit of anger thrums through me. First he locks me in that stupid cage, and now he’s telling me what I can and cannot do. All of this and he hasn’t even slept with me yet, hasn’t made me his true goddess. Hasn’t found out if I can actually be his goddess. “I am staying, Rhys. I can find my way back. I’ll keep the dolerite, and I’ll give you a call when I’m ready to come home.”

If I decide to go home. I love this man, but I can’t be caged. I might be able to handle his over protection in battle, but despite what he says, he is not my commanding officer.

Rhys pulls on the reins and the horse beneath us neighs and slows. “Shy, if you think for a second that I am leaving you on a Fae plane by yourself, you’re wrong.”

“You will not leave her by herself.” Sasha—who is surprisingly comfortable on a horse—pulls up next to us, matching our gait. “I will stay with Shy. I will ensure her safety.”

“I’ll stay, too,” Cassie offers and gives me a grin. “Girl power and all that.”

“I think we need to stop and give this some thought.” The king turns his horse around and gazes someplace in the distance. “Let’s find a quiet place and talk.”

“Yes, I definitely think we need to decide how to proceed in a way everyone agrees,” the queen offers.

“I think your mother is trying to tell you to chill the fuck out, Rhys.” Dev stares at his son with a concerned look on his face.

I can’t see him, but I can feel his will.

“I will not chill out,” Rhys announces. “We have no idea where we are or if walking back through that doorway will even get us to the timeline we came from. We don’t know if Arawn made this a two-way ticket or if this is another plan from Myrddin and we’re losing days right now. You simply took the word of some wizened crone who shows up with a couple of hellhounds, and I should have stopped it right then and there.”

The queen’s eyes narrow. “Do you honestly believe your papa can’t tell if those hounds are from Arawn? Do you think there’s a place where they adopt Cwn Annwn for fun? They are far more specialized and rare than a true hellhound. There might be twenty in existence. I assure you I know a Fae when I see one, and that crone was absolutely from Arawn. Nim believed it, too.”

“Nim is a set of shoulders, and she got there because she underestimated Myrddin,” Rhys says with a huff. “You do understand we’ve been fighting this war while you’ve been gone. I love you, but I will not allow you to make mistakes that cost me and my siblings and the ones we love. I am going to figure out a way to get to the proper timeline and then I’m going to do something I never thought I would. I’m going to negotiate with my grandmother so Shy has a place to ride out this war.”

“Excuse me?” I’m shocked at his words, but should I be? Now I wonder if that wasn’t his plan all along. Did he mean to get me to the safety of the Seelie palace and leave me there, leave me out of the fight I belong in? The fight his grandfather got me ready for?

“I know you want to stay with me, but it’s too dangerous,” Rhys replies.

Devinshea winces. The king lets out a hiss, and I swear that white wolf is laughing.

“It’s not about staying with you. That might have been part of it at one point, but you are proving to be a massive ass who wants to cage me. I’m not going to be your pet, Rhys. Or your plaything. I’m not going to be your sweet goddess who takes care of your sexual needs and keeps your brugh clean.” I’m so angry I can barely breathe. I manage to get out of his hold and shift off the horse, my slippered feet sliding slightly on the soft grass.

“Shahidi,” Rhys begins, and he manages to sound shocked.

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