Page 43 of Wrath of the Fae Queen
It takes a long time for my mind to return to my physical body. Aldrin’s attention is homed in on me. The heaving of my chest jiggling my breasts, the expression of ecstasy on my face. Intense pride and self-satisfaction rolls through him like a hot tidal wave.
Hey,I manage to whisper, reaching for the warmth of his soul and pulling him close.
Hey,he murmurs back.I told you I had plans for you. You have no idea how happy it makes me that I can make you come that hard from this distance.
My eyes roam over myself. My hair is in complete disarray, my limbs limp and eyes exhausted. I wouldn’t even be able to form words if I had to speak them out loud.Gods, Aldrin, you completely ruined me.
Good. Just so you know, I have more plans and other ideas to try.
Islam my fists into the thick pad in Dante’s arms, one after the other in a fast rhythm. The force of my blows makes him retreat a step. “Can you explain to me”—I gasp for air—“how in all the darkness you managed to get a time stutter?”
The other man visibly flinches, the motion making him lower the pad marginally, and I almost miss it and hit him in the chin. It’s not like he wouldn’t deserve it with the stunt he pulled during my final trial.
“The only way a fae can get a time stutter.” His eyes slide away from mine.
I pause in my onslaught, my eyebrows shooting up. “You’ve been to the Temporal Court?”
“I have.”
“But it’s in ruins. Isn’t setting foot within that space a death sentence?” I ask. “I thought people became fractured by the clouds of unbridled time magic that hover over the lands.”
Dante puts the punching pad down and wipes a towel over his face. “I think that is the point of sending people there. As a fucked-up death sentence. Others are stupid enough to go involuntarily, believingtheycan master the power. The gods know it nearly fractured me. It took decades before I was able to stop uncontrollably popping in and out of time.”
I want to ask him so many questions, but it is clear from the tension rippling through him that it triggers great trauma.
The doors to the training room slam open, ricocheting off the walls, and half a dozen assassins stalk through. They are in full armor, with weapons strapped to their legs, hips and backs, wearing the signature indigo robes of the order.
“Aldrin, newly elevated Assassin of Belladonna, the Mistress of the order has summoned you,” one of the soldiers announces.
I glance in confusion from them to Dante and back.
“Good luck with that,” Dante says under his breath. “I’m sure you’ll need it.”
I strap on the pieces of my armor I removed for our sparring session and pick up a helmet from a long rack. “I am taking this with me,” I shoot over my shoulder at Dante, following the other assassins out of the room.
A horrible twisting churns my gut as I stride down a long stone corridor, flanked on either side by warriors. I feel like a man walking to his death. The Mistress must know of my intentions here. Why else would she summon me?
Thisis the true last trial.One final brutal fight to get everything I need to save Keira and my court.
I hardly survived my battle with Dante. The Mistress is famed to be the strongest and most skilled of the assassins. It is the reason she has kept her mantle for over a hundred years.But I can do this, even if my heart races frantically and sweat drips down my spine.
I am led to a set of brilliant blue double doors, and the assassins pull them open to reveal a small, private fighting arena beyond. The wooden floors are speckled with blood, tiny burns and black droplets that could only be poison. Fresh mats coverits center and a ring of pews spanning two levels surrounds the ring, with many columns holding up the second-level balconies.The huge glass panels of a skylight occupy the center of the ceiling and beams of silver light illuminate the entire room in that soft glow the Nightmare fae prefer.
Clicking footsteps draw my attention to the woman who approaches from the far end of the arena. The Mistress. Her hair, pitch black on one side and stark white on the other, is pulled up into a tight bun on top of her head. Darkness curls around her, seeping into her black armor of skintight scales. Her eyes are expressionless as they run up and down me. The only part of her that isn’t cool and collected is her pointed black tail. It swishes with agitation.
“Aldrin. Exiled King of the Spring Court. What could possibly convince a man like you to turn your back on your people and join our ranks instead?” she muses in that high-pitched, musical voice.
I tip my head to her in respect. “Mistress of the Assassins of Belladonna, you didn’t leave me much choice when your warriors attacked me every single night.”
“Call me by my name: Belladonna. We both know you are here for more than that.” Her irises turn a swirling silver. “Challenge me. You have fought hard through every trial and waited patiently for the opportunity.”
My eyebrows shoot up. She knew my plans this entire time.
Her laughter is like tinkling bells. “Challenge me!You want to take what’s mine, do you not? What I have worked hard for centuries to build. An army of skilled assassins, ripe for the picking, to win back your throne. Do you think you are the first warlord to knock on my door and attempt to rob me?” The cloak of shadows around her flares.
Guilt rolls through me, but I force it down. A younger, more idealistic version of myself would have been horrified at myactions. Now, I will do whatever is necessary to give me the power to defeat Titania.The High Chancellor’s power doesn’t come from great magic, but from the cult-like influence she has over the civilians. She can call up a frenzied, blindly loyal army from their ranks by simply telling them to rise. Half the city will do so without question, and not even our army can compete with those numbers.
“You haven’t lost your nerve, have you, Spring King?” Belladonna circles around me.
