Page 92 of Song of the Heart Scale
“But until then,” he said, tapping my nose, “you have my attention.”
The crunchof carriage wheels over dried pine needles echoed in the quiet woods as Maeve and Garrick arrived at the edge of Faelight Forest. The horses nervously snorted, clearly sensing the raw magic in the air. The forest shimmered like a mirage in the late afternoon sun, its colors just a bit too vibrant, the air too still.
I straightened as they pulled up, brushing leaves off my dress. Klaus stood beside me, calm and unreadable as ever, his lavender eyes glinting with amusement.
Maeve stepped down first, her brow tight with worry. “Are you sure about this, my lady?”
“As sure as I am about the sun rising tomorrow.” I stepped forward.
Garrick hopped down behind her, his usual cocky demeanor subdued. His one eye flitted from me to Klaus and then to the forest like he was preparing for something to leap out and bite him. “This is a bad idea,” he muttered.
“Nice to see you too, Garrick,” I said, offering a crooked smile.
He crossed his arms. “You brought me all the way out here for what? To stand next to a war criminal with too much hair product?”
Klaus grinned. “I like him. Can we keep him?”
“No,” I said. “But wedoneed him. Garrick, I need you to test the wards. See if what I suspect is true.”
He gave a long-suffering sigh. “You’re asking a lot.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “So is the universe. But here we are.”
Klaus folded his arms and leaned against a tree, watching with vague interest. Maeve looked around nervously and fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve.
Garrick finally stepped forward. “Alright, stand back. This isn’t exactly harmless.”
We obeyed, moving a few feet away as Garrick raised his hands. He drew a small dagger from his belt and sliced across his palm, then muttered a spell under his breath. The blood gleamed and rose from his hand in a glowing red mist that spiraled toward the invisible shimmer of the ward.
The moment it touched the boundary, the air violently shimmered. A web of glowing veins burst across the surface like cracks in glass, and the forest groaned. Klaus flinched. Maeve gasped.
“That... that ward isn’t made of iron,” Garrick breathed. “That’s...”
“Magic,” Klaus finished.
He nodded, wiping the blood from his palm onto a cloth. “Old magic. Warlock-made. Similar to the kind used in Dragon Valley’s palace. It’s layered, but... weak. Fragile. Like someone’s been patching it up with adhesive and hope.”
Klaus stepped forward and ran his hand along the glowing cracks. “So it can be broken?”
Garrick tilted his head. “With effort, but yes. If we strike at the right point, the whole thing could come down.”
My heart raced. I turned to Klaus. “Well? Are you in?”
He looked at me long and hard, and for a moment, the flirty mask dropped and I saw him for what he truly was. He was fae royalty, ancient and powerful.
Then the smirk returned.
He winked. “I’m in. Let’s break some rules, shall we?”
19
DAMIEN
The music drifted like incense through the velvet-draped halls of The Gilded Serpent. Low and sultry, the sensual melody curled through the air and tangled in the sway of dancers’ hips and clinking wine goblets. From my private room tucked above the main floor, I saw glimpses of the revelry through the sheer golden curtains that framed my lounge. Cloaked in shadows and silk, I remained a ghost among the living—present, though unseen.
I leaned back on the silk cushions, holding a wine glass. A bowl of pomegranate seeds and sliced figs rested on a tray beside me. The cloak I wore was a deep forest green with a high collar and lined with charcoal silk, the kind of subtle luxury that masked royalty in the underbelly of the city.
The Gilded Serpent pulsed with life, its heart beating to the rhythm of the drums below. I came here often, not for the pleasures of the flesh like most men, but for information. Pleasure houses were fountains of gossip and confession. Secrets spilled easier when paired with moans and mead. And Lysandra... Well, Lysandra had always known how to get people talking.
