Page 30 of Claws of Death

I stop myself right there at a stern glance from Astorian. Whether he heard my thoughts or not, he sees right through me.

“How about Myron and you take the chairs next to the King,” he suggests, motioning for us to join them at the headof the table where he and Clio are sitting down to Recienne’s right, leaving the two chairs to the Fairy King’s left free for us.

The reluctance in Myron’s steps is obvious as I slide my hand into his, guiding him to our intended seats. Right by the end of the table, I stop, dipping my head an inch to demonstrate I have manners, then reach for the backrest of the chair closest to King Recienne to play buffer between the two kings in case they can’t behave themselves.

Before I can touch the hardwood, Myron’s hands are there, pulling the chair out for me, and I slide into it, guided by his invisible power caressing my back and circling around my waist. A shiver spiderwalks up my spine at the gentle sweep of magic, and I want to lean into him. It’s the most encouragement I’ll get from him that he’s on board with the situation and will do his best.

Not like I’m expecting anything different from the king who was ready to sacrifice himself and his own happiness for his people. He’ll do anything to stop Ephegos and Erina, even if it means forming alliances with a king who used to be his captor.

Once Myron is seated next to me, Royad and Silas sit down on Myron’s other side. Clio waves Andraya and Pouly over to sit on their side, across from the two Crows, leaving Herinor and Kaira the only ones standing.

Silas is quick to offer the Flame the chair next to him, and I could swear a growl is building in Herinor’s throat when Kaira follows the invitation.

However, Herinor remains on his feet the same way he did in Erina’s palace. The deja vu drives a shiver down my spine.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” King Recienne inquires, folding his hands in front of him on the edge of the table, his gaze on Herinor.

The latter shakes his head. “I’m not a noble. I’m a soldier.” As if that is any explanation, he stands behind Myron and me, hand on the hilt of his sword.

Recienne raises a brow while Astorian cocks his head and Clio rolls her eyes, but none of them object. The Fairy King merely raises a hand, flicking his fingers, and the doors swing shut on an invisible touch.

When I glance around, I notice there are no fairy guards stationed in this room. Whether that’s a good sign or a bad one remains to be seen. All I know is that Herinor will have our backs—at least Myron’s since his bargain with Ephegos is still in place and he can’t help me or he’ll pay with his own life.

Absolute silence falls, the humans not breathing and the Crows remaining unnaturally still as Recienne glances around the table, taking in his guests with those unreadable eyes, and my heart is ready to beat out of my chest.

Myron’s hand is on mine, fingertips turning into talons as he seems to be fighting his instinct to shift in the presence of an old enemy.

Only, he isn’t. King Recienne of Askarea is the brother of the fairy we saved. The friend of the general who suffered alongside the Crows in Erina’s dungeon. And these males are too proud or too scarred by their past to even look at each other like they could be stronger together.

Words build in my throat, but I can’t get myself to speak them. Even Kaira doesn’t comment on the many ways I wantto call both kings cowards as they keep staring at each other like in a competition. Astorian’s warning glance at Myron has as little impact on the silence as Clio’s for her brother.

So, I pull together every last ounce of courage I have left after my last experience in a palace and address the Fairy King directly. “Your palace is even more impressive than I expected, Your Majesty. I particularly enjoy the choice of rocks for the walls. I mean, who else has a glimmering palace.”

Beside me, Myron has gone even more rigid, and Herinor takes a step closer toward his king, letting me believe he’s ready to throw himself in front of Myron should King Recienne smite me with his power and some of it might slip past and hit the Crow.

The Fairy King merely stares at me, but the corners of his lips lift in a hint of a smile.

“They’re from the quarry in the Hollow Mountains in the very south of Askarea, where the fairylands meet Tavras and Cezux.” His voice is as smooth as the first time he spoke, but there is more warmth in it, like he’s pleasantly surprised yet reluctant to show it.

“It’s beautiful,” Andraya chimes in, picking up on what I’m doing.

So is Kaira, who adds what Clio already shared with her in the hallway. “The Hollow Mountains have natural caves full of stalagmites; at least Princess Cliophera explained so to me. What I’d do to see those caves one day.”

“Stop calling meprincess, and you might.” Clio snarks in the Flame’s direction, earning a raised brow from her brother.

“Is that how you make friends, Cliophera? Because if it is, I should try being less polite, and this palace might fill up with more unlikely allies in this pending war you’ve been talking about.”

I’m not certain if he’s serious, but the way Astorian is grinning tells me he’s not, only full of wit and humor that he prefers remaining undetected.

But the knot in my stomach eases, and I can breathe again as I realize this is not going to end up with any of us in a fairy dungeon.

Clio rolls her eyes, snapping her gaze to her brother. “This war I’ve been talking about will be knocking on our doors sooner than we care for if we don’t do something about it.” For a moment, I think he’s going to scold her for speaking to him like that, but his smile is genuine now, and the way it changes his face is a shock. He’s handsome—was handsome before—but this is the radiating beauty of a male who has it all. Confidence and power shine in every gesture, along with a well of unconditional love that reminds me of the bond Kaira and I share even when that of my sister and me is only starting to bloom.

His gaze snaps to mine as if he senses my scrutiny, eyes narrowing for a heartbeat. “I can see why my sister is so convinced that we need you at our side.”

“You mean the Crows,” I correct, and part of me wants to bite my tongue while the other part remembers I’m a queen in my own right—of two kingdoms. One without a crown.

Recienne shakes his head. “You, Wolayna. If you manage to keep a bunch of grumpy Crows under control, you are someone I want to call an ally.”

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