Geyia… The information…
“You killed my friends,” Loche said in a monotone as the consequences of refusing the rebels’ wishes flickered in his mind—the friends they’d attacked and killed because of Loche.
“They were holding you back.” Meyah seemed to study him as well, probably reveling in the fucking pain shooting from every nerve inside him.
Everything was a fucking lie… and the worst part?
There was only one person he wanted to speak to about it. One person who would understand—who would know what he needed. But she wasn’t his to need anymore.
His eyes drifted southwest, to where she should be right now, and unfortunately, his mother’s gaze followed.
“You miss her?” Meyah asked, her voice mockingly sweet. “Miss the other little halfling who appears as weak as you are. I guess it makes sense why you fell for each other.”
Low growls echoed behind him from the Fae twins, and this time even Zaddock halted, his face twisting into the expression that meant he was about to lose control.
“Fuck you,” Loche said quietly.
“What did you say?” Meyah’s voice remained in that sickly sweet tone.
“I said fuck you,” Loche snarled. “Get off my ship before I kill you.”
“Oh, but son, I thought we were here to negotiate?” His mother rounded her eyes innocently. “I thought you would give me what I wanted?”
His hand twitched toward his sword.
He wanted nothing more than to tell her to fuck off again, but the fear for his people still whirled within him. He’d already let them down once…
“What do you want, then?” he demanded, his words strained.
Meyah wiggled her brows. “Kneel.”
“No!”
Loche first thought he was the one who’d snarled it, but it was Zaddock who took a step forward.
“He will not kneel to you.”
Kerym and Thissian made low concurring sounds, and Soria squeezed his arm as if to sayDon’t do it.
After shooting his friends a quick look, confirming what he’d inferred, Loche shook his head sharply. “I will not kneel to you.Ellowwill not kneel to you.”
Meyah shot him another slow, oily smile. “You asked me what I wanted, and all I want is for you to kneel to me and make me the regent of Ellow.”
He had always hated his mother. Always. But now?
Hate wasn’t a good enough word for the emotions that coursed within him.
Loche only shook his head.
“No?” Meyah laughed again—a laugh that should have been rippling over the wind but that just made his stomach turn—while she shot one of the Fae behind her a look, and when he dropped his gaze…
The air flickered with magic until Lessia stood in his mother’s place.
Her golden-brown hair was long and clean, lying in soft waves over her lowered shoulders—the first time in a while he’d seen it like that. Her innocent amber eyes tracked him when he took a stupid, stumbling step toward her.
Then those full lips shot up, her cheeks rounding and pink tinting them…
He had to press his eyes shut.