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“I would worry less about a fish woman, and more about yourself.”
My expression told him I didn’t know what he meant.
He smirked. “You’re about to earn your second name, little bird. They call me Shadowsoul. What will they call you? Kinslayer? Slaughterer? The One Who Ended the War Shadowsoul Began?” Alisdair laughed. “Queen Ana, Destroyer of Elva.”
He backed out of the door, the shadows claiming him and his open delight. “I do so look forward to finding out.”
I sat there for so long—silent and shaking—that Treasa came over, squeezed my shoulder, and handed me a baby. Even as the sweet little furry face nuzzled against me, drifting off to sleep, I couldn’t shake away the vision that my hands were staining her with blood.
EVENTUALLY, I DRANKmy cold tea, gave Treasa her sleeping babe, thanked her, and went out to meet the silent party waiting for me. It was just Alisdair, Foalan, Eadaoin, and three guards.
“We sent the litter and the bearers on,” Eadaoin explained. “Hope that was okay.”
“Of course, it’s okay. No reason for them to stand around in the cold.” I pulled my coat tighter, shivering in the strange, silent village. “Can we not do something for the women here?” I asked. “I know they can’t control their instincts, but it’s not right that all of the mothers have been abandoned to raise a litter of children, just because it’s what a skulking rodent would do.”
Alisdair hummed. “It is already law that I’ll rip out the throat of every faeriken that uses instinct as excuse for running out on their responsibilities. Served as a deterrent for a while, but then they learned to run faster and hide better.” He bowed over my hand, dropping a kiss on my frozen knuckles. “But Foalan is ready and willing to organize a squad to hunt them down. Per my queen’s wishes.”
My fist clenched within the folds of my sleeve. I knew Alisdair enjoyed this. Horrifying me with his cruelty, and then delighting when I threw it back. He said on the very day of our true mating that his deepest wish was to corrupt the crown jewel and hope of Lyrica, but—
Is it me he’s corrupting?I thought, gazing into his eyes.Or is he merely drawing out the cold and cruel nature of his true soulmate—Emiana.
The day before, that rant about hating Salman and rising higher than a son of his ever could, was all her. It was my plan to use silent assassins instead of genocide, if it meant innocent people wouldn’t die to give Alisdair an easy victory. But the delight in what that victory would bring... that wasn’t mine.
But Alisdair loved it.
I was trying to make the man fall in love with the true me, and all I was achieving was his infatuation with the bitch who destroyed my life.
“No, Foalan. You needn’t send out any death squads. There’s no point,” I said, pulling away from Alisdair. “It won’t deter anything or help anyone.
“You can’t make someone love you. You can’t make them stay.” I looked upon Alisdair as his grin faded. “In the end, instinct always leads you to the place you’re meant to be... and the person you’re meant to be with.”
Giving him my back, I walked off alone into the dark.
After a beat they all caught up to me, and then pulled ahead, leaving Alisdair and me trailing behind.
I felt him watching me out of the corner of my eye.
“Something has happened,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.
“No.”
“Yes. You’re making that face again. You’re seconds away from bawling to put Treasa’s younglings to shame, so out with it. What’s wrong with you?”
I faced away, expression blank. “There’s nothing wrong with me, Alisdair. I don’t know what’s led you to believe otherwise, but everything’s the same as it was yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that one. I suspect it will be the same tomorrow and the next too.”
We left Bevin behind, setting off down the frosted path.
“You should be happy, husband.” I pulled my hood up against the falling snow, further concealing my face. “Your little bird has finally accepted her fate.”
He grasped my shoulder. “Ana— Foalan, on your left!”
Figures exploded out of the trees, trapping my scream in my throat, then ripping it back out.
Horrible, mangled accidents of Meya poured out of the shadows, pouncing on Foalan, Eadaoin, and the guards. Yellowed fangs, foot-long claws, tangled patches of fur stretched over leathery, black skin.
Taken.
“Ana, get down!”
