Page 70 of Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Five

Maven tightens his grip. Mouse chokes. I calculate the distance between us and it’s too far. He could snap her neck before I reach her and?—

I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Movement behind Maven.

The lithe silhouette of a soon-to-be fairy prince.

Arion appears out of the darkness, takes three long steps forward, raises his blade, and plunges it into Maven’s back.

Maven immediately drops Mouse and she lands with a thud on the grass, choking back air. I rush to her side, take her in my arms and the relief to have her safe is immediate.

“Are you okay?” I ask her. A bruise has already appeared around her throat and if Maven didn’t already have a blade in his back, he would soon have my foot in his ass.

He coughs. Blood sputters from his mouth and pours from his chest where Arion’s blade has sliced straight through muscle and bone.

Maven staggers around and when he sees his brother, when he realizes the person he thought was his greatest ally has just stabbed him in the back, his knees buckle.

He gasps for air, the sound wet and raspy.

“You don’t deserve the throne,” Arion says through gritted teeth. “And you sure as hell aren’t going to be responsible for the death of my sister.”

Mouse sits up, her body weight leaning into my side. I hear her slight intake of breath and when I glance over at her, there is wetness welling in her eyes.

Her brother came through for her.

He chose her over Maven.

Even though he had more history with Maven, and perhaps because of that, more loyalty, he still chose Mouse, not because of their shared blood, but because it was the right thing to do.

Because her heart is probably the purest out of all of us.

Maven shivers and gasps out another wet breath. “How…could…you?” he says and then falls over face first into the grass.

Arion stares at his brother for several long seconds. I can hear the sharp grit of his molars against one another.

“Help me up,” Mouse says, her voice compromised because of the pressure Maven exerted on her. I try not to let the anger about it take control. Maven is dead and there’s no revenge to have.

My arm around her waist, I help her stand upright. We shuffle over to Arion together.

“I’m sorry,” Mouse says when she comes up alongside him.

“Me too,” he tells her. “But he never would have relented.”

Behind us, the icicles crackle as they melt.

And further out, near the fae gate, the Fairies of Suffering are in formation, watching us.

“Arion?” I say.

He turns slightly toward me, but keeps one eye on Maven as if he’s afraid he might come back to life. “What?”

“If we were to appeal to the Fairies of Suffering, what might they want? What do you think the Summer Queen offered them?”

He thinks. The seconds tick by, growing heavier by the moment. The leader of the fairies puts his hand on the hilt of his sword, eyeing us through the melting ice.

“They get their power from suffering,” Arion explains. “It’s where they got their name. If I had to guess, the queen has promised them the suffering of lesser fae. Likely a certain number on every solstice to sustain them for a while.”

I know immediately what I have to do.

“Take her,” I tell Arion and shift Mouse’s weight.

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