Page 5 of A Sin So Pure

The fae whoaregifted with magic are split into two camps, just like Faerie. The Seelie are masters of healing, shifting, and light magic, while the Unseelie are masters of the opposite. We rule over shadows, minds, and souls.

We’re meant to be an even match—opposites and equals, forever bound in a tireless fight for dominance. It’s a war that Fate refuses to weave an end to, otherwise she risks upsetting thebalance.

I’m not interested in balance.

I want the scales to topple over in my favor, for the waters to overflow inmycup. It’s the mindset that’s allowed me to rise through the Unseelie ranks, earn the trust of House Pride, and prove my worth as their new leader.

No, I don’t want balance.

But I’m also not opposed to bridging the gap when it benefits me.

I step forward, leaving Wes to cover my back, and offer my hand out to shake.

“Welcome boys. Nice weather tonight, yeah? Not too cold for fall,” I say.

They refuse my hand with matching frowns.

I sigh, folding my hands into my pockets.

So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?

“You going to hide in the shadows and let your grunt-men embarrass you, Jamison?” I pivot on my heel and call out to the night. “Or are you going to come out and get this deal done?”

“Forgive me if I’ve offended you already,” a slimy voice echoes alongside sharp footsteps. “I wanted to make sure you were alone.”

Jamison, the pseudo-leader of the exiled Seelie, steps into the light.

The Seelie Queen doesn’t like ugly things, so she and her Virtues cast out their criminals rather than dealing with them. Why spend time and resources on prison and punishment when the Human Realm and us Unseelie can do that for them?

“We’ve been working towards this for months. Have I given you reason to assume it would be a set up?” I scoff.

With his slicked black hair, hip-first gait, and a gaze that slithers over the object of its attention, Jamison oozes a confidence that makes my upper lip curl into a grimace. I don’t know what the Seelie Queen or her Virtues banished him for, but my gut says it has to be something depraved.

He needs to be knocked down a peg. And I won’t complain if I’m the one that gets to do it.

At least he’s smart enough to keep his wings tucked away. Wouldn’t want them to beaccidentally sheared.

He shrugs, scratching his nose. “Not particularly.”

“Then stop wasting my time with theatrics.” I don’t hold back my eye roll as I turn to his two grunt-workers. “Let’s do this.”

This time, they react, one of them throwing their gun over their back and retrieving a wooden crate. He drops it at my feet, and I nod to Wesley; he knows what happens next. Give them the briefcase of cash and count the merchandise.

Jamison’s goons do the same, nodding to their boss when they see that every dollar of the fifty thousand is accounted for.

I tap my boot on the cobblestone as I wait for Wes, but his brows furrow as he counts the racks of clinking tonic bottles.

“There’s only half here.”

“Half?” I confirm.

Wes nods.

I look to the sky, wishing the stars could temper the frustration bubbling in my gut. But they can’t.

My glare could cut through steel; it easily spears through Jamison’s show of confidence, causing his slimy smile to waver.

“Are you stupid?”

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