Page 114 of Fae Farewells

Morning

The fancy prison didn’t feel so claustrophobic after killing Alania, but I still hated the decor. I hated it more now that I was choosing to use the suite as a reprieve while we rested.

Over the last few weeks, our fights had become more taxing. Each opponent was more difficult than the last. And I couldn’t decide if the enemies were getting stronger, or if I was getting weaker. I was growing tired of battles and even the smallest hint of diplomacy… But I didn’t think I was any less strong than I was before all this shit started happening.

I’d learned new things about myself, pushed my magical limits well beyond the previous threshold I’d had. Yet someone was still able to infiltrate my mind.

We’d not really talked about who it could be, aside from knowing it couldn’t possibly be Alric. That didn’t mean it wasn’t his doing, though.

I knew he was behind the mental attack, could feel that to my very core.

I couldn’t prove it, but I didn’t need to. Everything always circled back to the convoluted mage.

There were so many events in his timeline that I couldn’t keep track of them all. Each time I learned something new about myself or my mates or our families, we also learned something new about Alric and his path of destruction.

Somehow, he made me look like a good person.

Me.

That thought was laughable… And I wished Jack and Grim were here to cackle about it with me. I needed more of the hellsteed’s sass and the reaper’s gruffness in my life. I hadn’t seen them in nearly two weeks.

“I can’t wait to tell Jack about that fight,” I mumbled to myself. “He was so set on me need—”

“You’re going to rub it in his face?” Briggs chuckled. “Is that really the best idea?”

“That I used the same moves on an alicorn that I practiced with him? Yes. That I didn’t need my demon form to fight a horse? No.”

“Because she helped,” Stone pointed out, grinning when I stuck my middle finger up.

Palmer snorted, teasing me as he insinuated my lie. “So, tell him some of it, but leave out the important details?”

“Maybe I won’t tell him anything. If I do, he’ll want to shift every time we fight.” I shivered. “I’ve seen enough horses this week to last a fucking lifetime.”

“One more thing to do, and then I want to sleep,” Vaughn said absently.

“Not a horse,” I snapped.

York tugged me to his side, draping his arm over my shoulder as he spoke to my fae. “What’s that?”

“My parents are alive.”

“What the fuck?” Novak nearly shouted. “You can’t just drop something like that into regular conversation. You’re supposed to ask if we’re sitting down or something before you say it.”

Vaughn shrugged, giving my vampire a bland look. “You are sitting.”

“You haven’t told your sisters?” Palmer cautiously inquired.

“No. My father wanted to wait until Alania was dead,” my fae admitted. “He feared Freya would come looking and bring the wicked cunt right to them. They aren’t in any shape to fight.”

My druid nodded. “How are you going to tell them?”

“I’m not.”

“What?” Novak asked Vaughn, appalled by his assumed denial.

“We’re going to take them to my grandfather’s cottage so they can see for themselves.”

Vaughn turned from the conversation and marched out of our suite. He headed down the hall to where Freya was staying with her mates, determined to wrap everything up so he could take a nap.