I’m across the dais in half of a second, blade poised to plunge, my vision tunneling, my blood lust pounding in my chest, when a tiny hand catches me, fingers wrapped around my wrist, sending a jolt of warmth through my body.
“Don’t,” Mouse says, her voice low but insistent.
The rage is barely repressed. They thought they could steal my mouse and then arrange a marriage for her, to steal her throne too?
The pieces are starting to fit together. I may not be fae and I may give two fucking shits about this godawful place, but I can see the strategy in this.
Without the Winter Court, with the seasons out of balance, the magic of their land is choking on itself.
They need to unite the courts in order to restore the balance and they think a marriage between the Summer and Winter Court will solve the problem.
I can see the logic in the plan. I can even respect the tactic.
But it’ll happen over my dead fucking body.
I’ll gut every single fae in this room.
I’ll tear off their fucking heads if?—
“No, Bran,” Mouse says and gives me a shake of her head.
Trust me, she mouths, so only I can see the words, the way her full lips form the plea, the way her eyes squint, begging me for restraint.
Trust her? Giving her the lead is what got us here.
Does she know they need her? Does she know she has bargaining power? Does she know they’re using her because of their own fucking mistakes?
Trust her?
Does she even know what the fuck she’s doing?
“Mouse,” I start, but she turns away from me and says to the queen and the fae on one knee, “I accept your proposal of marriage.”
Episode Seventy-Eight
BODYGUARD
I’m so relieved to see Bran that I forget for a second that he’s a killer and that he’s probably here to kill.
But if he unleashes the full power of his wrath, I’m not so sure he’ll make his way back out.
Adrenaline shoots through my veins, and I’m shocked at how quickly I can move in this place. I have my hand wrapped around Bran’s wrist, coaxing him to a stop with little effort, all within seconds.
“Don’t,” I tell him.
I need him alive.
His immediate anger and agitation thrums over my body.
Can the rest of the fae sense it too?
Bran is barely holding it together and saying yes to the marriage proposal has only made it worse.
Over his shoulder, I catch sight of Damien, awake and on his feet. And beside him a blond fae I’m not familiar with.
If Damien is conscious, does that mean my sister is awake too?
I scan the crowd for her, but of course Damien wouldn’t bring her to the fae realm.