Page 147 of A Tongue so Sweet and Deadly

Geyia’s people had been greedy—ruthless.

Had sacrificed so many humans and Fae in their attempt to take controlover Havlands.

And now, one stood right before her.

“Not all of the shifters agreed with our king.”

Lessia’s eyes snapped to Geyia.

The woman offered her a sad smile. “The books don’t tell of those who fought back against our own. They lost, and those who weren’t killed were imprisoned, forced to work as slaves.”

Lessia glanced from her to Loche. “But how did we not hear of it? I’ve heard nothing of a resistance.”

It was Loche who answered.

“Because the shifter king was clever.” Loche scratched the shadowy stubble on his chin. “He made everyone think those who stood against him sided with the Fae. That they wantedthemto rule Havlands. With their own kind and humans against them, they lost their voice.”

Geyia nodded. “They did. My ancestors rebelled against him, wanting nothing to do with his plans. The only thing I have him to thank for is that they escaped the slaughter that ensued when humans and Fae caught on to what he was planning. They were left to die in the cellars he put them in, but once the king and his followers were dead, they managed to break out. Some died, of course—they were starving and sick already—but the rest of them escaped. We’ve been hiding across Havlands ever since.”

With her brows furrowed, Lessia straightened, but still held on tight to her daggers. “How many of you are there?”

Geyia shrugged. “I’m not sure. My parents died when I was quite young, and the ship we’d been living on dropped me off in a harbor, as they had too many mouths to feed.”

Geyia’s eyes moved to Loche, and the love in them strained Lessia’s chest. “I ran into Loche here when he was just a small, angry boy. But apparently, he didn’t forget about me. He brought me here a few years ago. Told me of a placewith a bunch of misfits that wouldn’t mind a shifter in their midst.”

Loche smiled at her. “She’s being modest. She saved my life when my mother forced me onto the streets. And while the people here might be misfits, they’re a great bunch.”

Lessia stared at the two of them.

A bunch?

How many people lived here?

Geyia rolled her eyes, then fixed her piercing gaze on Lessia again. “If you’re not going to kill me, we should probably head over. Since hearing Loche was bringing a woman, they’ve been cooking up a storm.”

The shifter spun on her heel, her long curls bouncing with every stride she took into a glittering, arched hallway.

Lessia stared after her, then back to Loche. “What is this place?”

Wrapping his hand around hers, Loche leaned in and whispered, “I’ll tell you everything. But I promise you, she’s nothing like the shifters you’ve heard of in the books. She’s good. Every person here is good.”

Her mind still spun, but something in her gut urged her to trust him.

Like he’d trusted her when he’d found out about the half-Fae she’d smuggled into Ellow.

So Lessia nodded, and after bending down to pick up the sparkling stone she’d dropped and putting it in her pocket, she allowed him to tug her with him into the passage.

A few feet inside, Loche halted, turning toward her.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

Her heart leaped when their eyes clashed.

Pride and something else flashed in Loche’s dark ones, and a thrill raced across her neck.

When she managed to nod again, he smiled wide.

She couldn’t help but smile back.

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