Page 144 of The Forbidden Fae King

“This isn’t going away on its own, Aldrin.” Cyprien leans over the desk. “The assassins will keep coming, no matter how many we kill. Titania made that clear enough. Any support you have gathered will disappear if we let this drag on. There are only two ways to end the nightly assaults. Kill the high chancellor yourself, or put your own commission against her and have the assassins do it. I will fund it. Their order does not balk at having contradictory commissions. Both orders would be complete when one of the clashing targets is dead.”

“I will not kill Titania.” My chair clatters to the ground as I rise in my seat suddenly, slamming my palms on the desk. “I will not stoop to her level. When I return to power, it will be because I have outmaneuvered her and the people have willed it. What power would I have as an unwanted dictator?”

“Your stubbornness will get us all killed, Adrin!” Cyprien gets up and stalks across the room. “It will destroy this entire realm. These are your only options.” He grabs the decanter of brandy and pours himself a long drink, then drains it. He holds it up as a silent offering to me, but I shake my head.

“There is another way.”

“What other way?” Cyprien turns back toward me, scowling. “No. Whatever you are thinking, it’s a bad idea.”

“It is a terrible idea.” I concede. “But it is another way. If I can make it work, then we will have a sharply honed weapon at our disposal.”

Cyprien stalks right up to me and points a finger into my chest. “You have gone insane. Do not even consider it.”

I push his hand off me. “Everyone has a right to take the trials of Belladonna, to be initiated into their order. Their assassins cannotinterfere with one taking the trials, and are forbidden from killing one of their members. Not only would I train with them and learn their ways, I could challenge their leader for the rule over the order. Imagine having that might at our disposal.”

Cyprien stares at me with his nostrils flared wide. “Where would you even find them? The Order of Belladonna?”

“I have heard they dwell on a mountain peak shrouded in mist, in the land between the Shadow Court and the Sun Court. But all I have to do is make a formal appeal to one of their assassins, and they would be obligated to take me to their order.”

“What happens to any who do not pass the trial or the training?” A deep frown occupies Cyprien’s face.

I let out a long breath. “They are killed, of course, in a thousand creative ways.”

“I will take this trial with you, to make sure your back is protected.”

“You can’t,” I cut him off. “I need you as my contingency. If anything happens to me,youneed to become the next king.”

Cyprien nods. He already knows of the plans I have for him.

I right my chair, then collapse into it.

The gold and oak grandfather clock in the corner of the study chimes five times and my stomach hollows out.

“Go, Cyprien, and get the soldiers ready for tonight. I need time alone with my thoughts.” I rifle through the loose pages on my desk, and only notice he is gone when the door clicks shut.

I brace myself, waiting for the waves of utter devastation to drown me.

There is a pit of writhing pain within my chest, poisoning every single moment. It taints my blood, twists my innards, and puts a dampening blanket across my thoughts.

The beast was born the moment Keira said she was leaving. It burst free from its bindings when she disappeared within the swirling mists of the portal, and I knew I would never touch her again. Feel her bare body pressed against mine again. Never coax a smile from her or hear her brilliant thoughts.

Those feelings are my own, and despite how they tear at me and threaten to break me, I can function while I carry them. Only just. Even as they follow my every waking moment and bleed into my nightmares.

In the hour when day turns to night, it changes. It is like the gates to my heart are ripped open and that grief and loss doubles. Triples. I swear that in these moments, the pain is not only my own, but I feel hers as well. I canhearher wail my name.

I turn toward the slits of windows high in the room, and examine the pink and orange stains across the late afternoon sun. It will be soon now.

The pendant of my necklace begins to burn against my skin, like a fire that runs as cold as ice. I pull on the leather thong and the chip of moonstone falls out of the neckline of my shirt.

It glows faintly.

I run a finger down its dulled edge and receive a shock of energy.

After Keira left through that portal, I took my sword and hacked at it until a shard of moonstone the length and thickness of my thumb broke free. I keep it on me at all times, so if she returns, I will know. If the portal is activated again, I will feel it.

The first time I felt the pendant brim with static charge and freeze my skin, I had thought she found a way back to me. I raced through the forest as though the wild hunt themselves were after me, despite the oncoming sunset, only to find the portal utterly dormant.

The stone was dull and milky white, with none of the shimmering radiance and flashing colors present when the gateway is open.

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