Page 28 of Court of Lies and Deceit

“We shouldn’t leave,” Isera growls from the wall.

The sharpness in her tone makes me jump. Blinking, I turn to face her. And so does everyone else.

That terrible fury burns in her eyes like blue flames as she stares us all down. “We’re inside the wards. This is our chance to force Nightbane and the entire Unseelie Court to help us take down the Icehearts.”

“Force him?” Alistair counters. “How the hell arewesupposed to force the Unseelie King to do anything? We have no power here. No leverage.” He flings out an arm and stabs a hand in Draven’s direction. “Mabona’s tits, the fucking Shadow of Death had to grovel on his knees for us to even be allowed in through the wards.”

Draven winces ever so slightly, but everyone else was looking at Alistair, so they don’t notice that. I do, though. And I once again swear to any goddess or god who will listen that I will make sure that Draven never has to do anything like that ever again.

“We have to dosomething,” Isera snarls back. “We can’t take down the entire Iceheart Dynasty on our own. You know it. I know it. We need allies. Powerful allies. Dangerous allies.” Uncrossing her arms, she stabs a hand towards the window and the castle sleeping in the darkened night outside. “He’s an arrogant ruthless bully, but he has nightmare powers. And most importantly, he has a healeranda guy with portal magic. We need them.”

“No, what we need is to get the hell out of here.” Alistair throws his arms out and looks between the rest of us. “Right?”

I hesitate. The problem is that both of them are right. Isera is right that we need powerful and dangerous allies before we can even hope to go up against the Icehearts. But Alistair is also right. We have no way of forcing the Unseelie King to help us.

Isera clenches her jaw in anger. Pushing off from the wall, she stalks across the room without another word and disappears into the corridor that houses the bedrooms. Galen lets out a long sigh and rakes a hand through his blond hair while Alistair once more crosses his arms and scowls.

Sitting on the floor on the other side of the low table, Lyra stares after Isera for another few seconds before she turns her head back. She looks incredibly disappointed as she glances from face to face and then down to the still full wine glasses on the table.

“Well, there goes that celebration.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Brisk morning winds wash over us as we sneak in through the side gate and into the Unseelie King’s castle without any civilians noticing. I stifle a shudder as the winds caress my naked back through the hole in my shirt. I still need to figure out how to get new clothes. Maybe before we leave, I can somehow manage to convince someone here in the city to trade me another shirt.

The servant who met us at the gate guides us through several corridors. I glance at him in surprise when I realize that he isn’t taking us to the same dining room that we met Orion in last time. Instead, we seem to be moving in the direction of the main entrance.

When we reach a set of open double doors that lead into a massive throne room, I can’t help but tense up. The last time I was escorted into a throne room in this way, I ended up with an iron collar around my neck.

Draven brushes a hand down my arm, seemingly without even thinking about it, because his eyes are locked on the throne room ahead. And it’s such a comforting and natural gesture that I almost lose track of where we are.

My heart squeezes and warmth washes through my body.

This has to be real. These emotions… they have to be genuine. They have to.

But before I can fall deeper into that pit of uncertainty because of the mate bond, the servant comes to an abrupt halt by the doors and raises an arm to tell us to go inside.

The six of us exchange a glance. Then we walk through.

Once again, the Unseelie Court manages to surprise me. Those images in my head of a harsh and ugly court are thoroughly squashed underneath the sheer beauty that is the Unseelie King’s throne room.

Just like the rest of the castle, the walls and floor of the high-ceilinged throne room are made of beautiful white stone. Tall windows along the room’s long sides fill the space with golden morning light and makes the faelight gems sparkle. The entire ceiling has been painted to depict a breathtaking night sky with glittering stars and northern lights in green and purple.

Vibrant vines with flowers in shades of violet, dark blue, and silver climb up the stone pillars that line the dark blue carpet which runs from the door and all the way to the throne on the other side of the large room. The throne itself is a masterpiece carved from some kind of shining black stone. Intricate swirls and curving shapes make it look like night shadows that have been frozen in time.

I can’t help but gape at the entire room.

Then my gaze slides to the fae man seated on the throne, and I promptly snap my mouth shut and wipe the amazed expression off my features.

Orion Nightbane isn’t sitting on his throne. He isloungingon it. His legs are spread and he is leaning a little to the side to rest his chin against his fist while his elbow is propped up on the armrest. His other arm is draped nonchalantly along the other armrest. That, along with the half-smirk on his face, makes him look like the very definition of lazy arrogance.

I grind my teeth in annoyance but keep my mouth shut as the six of us come to a halt a short distance in front of him.

“Well?” he drawls.

Next to me, Draven flexes his hand but keeps his tone neutral as he replies, “Danzo Wolfstalker is dead. And they saw me slit his throat.”

“Excellent.”

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