Page 3 of Queen of Whispers and Mist

Unless her actions today mean she’s fallen out of favor with her liege and must now be punished.

Mother’s tits. What sort of danger have you gotten yourself into, Kitten?

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Erebos drawled, breaking their silent standoff. The words were innocuous enough, but there was no mistaking the anger threaded through them.

Ronan found it interesting that even now, in a room filled with only those loyal to him, he continued to play the role of magnanimous ruler. Erebos could probably gut him here and now and his flock wouldn’t raise an eyebrow or breathe word of it... so why the fanfare?

“Have you explained the terms of his prize?” The High Lord’s eyes flicked to Dmitri.

“Not yet, my liege.”

With a long-suffering sigh, Erebos returned his attention to Ronan. “As per the terms of the contest, along with your position as my Champion and all the perks it affords you, you are entitled to one boon.”

“A boon?”

Ronan was familiar with the custom, but it brought him great joy to force Erebos to spell it out for him. Anything he could do to undermine and annoy the man was a blessing as far as he was concerned.

The blond man’s lip curled up in a sneer. “You are allowed to make one request of me at tonight’s ceremony. Whatever you desire, if it is in my power to give, it is yours. Think hard, Butcher, and make it count. It will be your only chance to make such a request of me.”

Before Ronan could respond, Erebos raked his gaze over his face and continued. “I can see the idea intrigues you. Make no mistake, you may have won, but there's all manner of ways for a man such as yourself to disappear in the line of duty. Your presence in my life is a temporary annoyance at most. One I intend to rid myself of at the first possible opportunity. All you’ve proven today is that you're a stubborn fool. Luckily for me, I happen to know just how easily fools can be dealt with.”

Ronan listened to all of this without a word. There was nothing he could say right now that would make a damn bit of difference. He needed to think carefully about his boon, knowing that the phrasing was every bit as important as the request itself. He had an idea of how he could make the best of this final night of freedom, but in order to ensure it came to fruition, he needed to word his request in such a way Erebos was honor-bound to grant it.

Part of him had expected Erebos to off him here and now, but Ronan was starting to understand the man’s methods. Everything he did was a performance. A way to build political capital he could cash in at a later date. If Ronan went missing before tonight's ceremony, there'd be no escaping the murmurs.Thatwas the real reason Erebos continued to play the game. But there was an expiration date on his participation. Once the eyes of his people were no longer on them and they were out from under the spotlight of this contest, Ronan would be under no such protection.

He needed to make the best of his reprieve.

“You're free to go for now, Champion.” There was a noticeable bite to the word, as if it pained him to use the title. “I’ll see you tonight. Oh, and do take great care that you do not do anything in the meantime to embarrass me. You’re mine now. Everything you do or say will reflect upon me. I take great pride in ensuring nothing tarnishes my sterling reputation.”

Ronan nearly laughed at the absolute ego of it all, especially since he had little doubt that brainwashing factored into the man’s methods. But somehow he managed to keep his face impassive as he nodded.

“Good. Dovina will meet you upon your return and escort you where you need to be. Enjoy these last minutes of anonymity, Butcher, for after tonight, life as you know it will never be the same.”

CHAPTER2

RONAN

Exhaustion weighed down his steps as Ronan staggered up the stairs to the little room he shared with Bast. Pushing open the door, he stiffened in surprise when he found two weapons trained on him.

“Merde!” Sebastian fervently groaned, lowering his slingshot. “Put the crossbow down, Loren. It’s just Ronan.”

Loren eyed him slowly from head to toe before eventually doing as he was told, setting the crossbow aside and picking up an empty travel bag. It would seem Ronan had interrupted them in the middle of packing.

“Thanks for the warm welcome,” he grunted, giving each man a wary once-over as he stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind him. “What did I do to deserve it?”

“We thought you might be one of the High Lord’s men, come to take out the trash,” Bast answered with a bitter laugh.

With the way the trial losers had all gone missing, that was a fair assumption. Although even if they hadn’t, anyone who’d aided Ronan would be marked as an enemy. There was little doubt in Ronan’s mind what Erebos would do to Bast or Loren given the chance. Glimmermere was no longer safe. Not for them.

“Why hang about then?”

“We needed to gather supplies before heading out of town,” Bast replied, taking a seat as Loren knelt down and resumed tossing items into a rucksack.

“We leave at sundown,” Loren added.

Ronan flicked his gaze out the window, taking in the burnt-orange and coppery tinge of the sky. The sun was nearly set; there were perhaps another twenty minutes at most before the soft purple of dusk would replace the vibrant colors. It was a smart play, using the cover of darkness to make their escape.

“I take it you’ll be heading for the border?” he asked almost absently as he claimed one of the seats at their rickety table.

---