Page 207 of The Edge of Darkness

The piece of sheer fabric from the ivory drapes that framed Auren’s bed slipped through my fingers as I said, “Then I’ll have to go to the castle myself.”

We did not want to cross The Veil—the fae had no desire to. Not because we couldn’t, but because none of us wanted the repercussions. Freely crossing whenever we felt inclined to would seem as if we were taking advantage of The Veil, which could stir up tensions again. And if a High Lord were to cross, it could be seen as a threat, and the last thing we needed right now was turmoil between our realms when the real threat was in the north.

Breck drummed his fingers against the doorframe, then, to my surprise, he said, “I was wrong about you.”

I half turned to him and lifted a brow.

“Your reputation precedes you, but you’re not what they say you are. At least, not entirely.”

My lips twitched upward. “Are you sure you want to make that claim?”

“Call me a fool for saying it, but it’s what I have come to believe.”

“You’re not a fool, Breck.” I lowered my eyes to the mosaic floor, picking out a dragonfly amidst the ferns and other insects that were depicted. “I have my moments—both good and bad.”

“We all do.”

When I met his eyes again, there was an understanding there.

And there was growth.

Somehow, in these past few weeks, Breck had changed. He had matured, or perhaps he had simply found more of himself. He was certainly, finally, thinking for himself, which I wanted to applaud him for.

“I appreciate your help with all of this,” I said.

He nodded. “Thanks for giving me another chance.”

Another chance . . . after everything that had happened with Auren.

I wasn’t quite sure what else to say, so I nodded back.

“Will you be in here for the night, then?” he asked, glancing around the room.

“I do favor this bedchamber over the one Killian had me in. The mattress is better-suited to my size.”

He snorted and pushed off the doorframe. “I’ll see what I can scrounge up for us from the kitchens.”

“Much appreciated.”

After we’d eaten a less-than-appetizing meal of stale bread, apples, and dried meat, and washed it down with a bottle of wine plucked from Killian’s private stash, Breck retired to his chambers, and I settled into Auren’s old bed for the night.

In the candlelight, I studied the decoy amulet, black as the darkness beyond the window.

The object was meant as a source of reassurance, and a safeguard. Giving it to the queen wasn’t my first choice, but something was telling me that it was going to be worth it in the end . . . if the queen showed up.

The moment of truth came at dawn.

I approached The Veil, alone.

Breck had stayed back to round up what was left of Killian’s council and speak to them about what had happened.

With Killian gone, there were no patrols in the woods. Everything was still—the quiet, calm moments before the world would wake, and another day would begin.

Mist clung to the ground, wafting with each step I took toward the barrier between realms. For some strange reason, here, it felt more like a true wall that couldn’t be crossed. Perhaps it was just the stigma of what it was made to do. This was where the first section had been made, where the ancient human king had been denied for the final time. Where humans first felt betrayed by the fae. The forest seemed to harbor those memories—the fear, the animosity, the tension that stretched over thousands of years across both realms, all stemming from this magical barrier.

I focused on my senses, feeling for anything out of the ordinary, hoping to find the queen somewhere nearby.

Nothing. Silence.