Page 106 of Wicked Heirs

“That doesn’t bode well.”

“Yes, the Fallen in the Dark Fae Realm rarely does.” He looked past me at the doors back into the south wing of the palace, his eyes aflame with silver, obviously sensing her approach. And then he swept his gaze over my sweat-drenched purple muscle tee. “Go wash up ready for our celebratory feast while I see to the almighty Fallen’s unscheduled visit.”

“Father, if you need—”

“What I need is for you to do that,” he said, a little harshly, making it clear it was a command, not a suggestion.

He rarely brought that out with me because he respected me and viewed me as somebody with the definite capacity to become his equal one day, his revered heir.

It just showed how worried he was about this “unscheduled visit” by Abigail Rose, not merely a Fallen, which was bad enough, but also one of the leaders ofExemplar, the supernatural governing body to us all.

I grimaced and took one last look at my father, before teleporting away in a cloud of my shimmering purple magic.

A snapof my fingers to clean myself up and dress in appropriate clothing for dinner—a purple and silver tailored suit—combined with an illusion disguising the cloaking spell I’d enveloped myself in had enabled me to linger nearby as my father had greeted Abigail in our home.

I stood several feet away unbeknownst to them as my father lounged back on his silver wraparound couch in theliving room while Abigail Rose stood with a worrying amount of authority in the middle between him and the stained-glass curtain wall framing the space and giving it an added regal air belonging to a palace. The paintings in the glass depicted great victories from battles and wars past, all achieved by my father, a true legend.

“If I’d known you were going to venture into my domain, Abigail, I would have prepared a welcome worthy of a being with such a formidable and revered status,” he spoke smoothly, looking her up and down as he did so.

She was wearing a bejeweled golden floor-length robe, the hood still up, strands of her curly blonde hair escaping it a little at the front. Beneath she had on a virginal-white peplum dress and a pair of matching colored heels.

Certainly fit the bill when it came to an angel.

Kind of stereotypical, really.

He was flirting with her. Well, really, trying to disarm her, possibly to undercut the clear agitation coming off her. She was definitely worked up.

She stepped forward then and bit back, “You should have been expecting me.”

“I should have?”

“Denial doesn’t become you, Saryan. You have your spies everywhere. You are well aware of what has come to my attention—to the attention ofExemplar.”

“I’m assistingExemplarwith my efforts.”

“Conducting secret meetings with the likes of Constantine Vale is not in the interests ofExemplar. Or the supernatural world as a whole.”

“If they had been secret not even you would know about them.”

“So you wanted us to know, to come here and arrest you for treason, is that it?”

“Treason?” he chuckled. “I am King of the Dark Fae. That isn’t a charge that can be levied upon me.”

“Treason to the supernatural world as a whole.Exemplar’s jurisdiction, which exceeds yours.”

“You’ve wanted this for a long time, haven’t you, Fallen? To find a reason to dethrone me?”

“This isn’t personal.”

“Yet your distaste for me is.” His eyes flashed silver in warning. “What’s the matter, Abigail, afraid of a little darkness?”

She didn’t react to his provocations, keeping her composure.

Somehow.

I’d never seen anyone he’d come at manage that before. It was as impressive as it was unsettling, given her revealed reason for coming here—to arrest my father.

“Your fondness for darkness is what concerns me in this matter.”

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