Page 45 of Blood On His Lips

You are not human. You are Fae. She is making you question your instincts.

By asking me to questionkilling?

You are a Lord. You must kill. You must kill quickly, without hesitation, and no regret.

That’s not whatRenaudsays. He said reflection is important.

Silence.

And why don’t you have an opinion on him? You have an opinion, usually scathing, on lit-er-al-ly everyone else.

Interesting how that shut Darkan up.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks,” my therapist said, scolding me once she’d devoured the several feet between us. A warm smile eased the rebuke.

Flyaway bits of ashy hair framed her face, and I could just make out the accusatory narrowing of her eyes behind the glasses. I’d always thought she looked like a careful caricature of a television therapist, once I’d had enough sitcom bingeing under my belt.

“I’ve been a little busier than usual,” I said.

“You’re never too busy for self-care,” Susenne scolded. “We’ve made such fabulous progress. It’s the times that we’re busy that often derail us the most. Pop in this week, even if it’s just for a few minutes.”

My shoulders sank. I knew that tone. If I didn’t come see her, she would come see me. I didn’t want to remind my family that this scattered Fae had me completely under her thumb.

“And you, Juliette! You canceled your anger management program six months ago. I’m of a mind to speak with your commander.”

My cousin saidnothing, proving she understood the value of silence in order to avoid digging a deeper grave of trouble. I could tell her that silence wouldn’t make Susenne forget—she probably had her own reasons for letting Juliette get away with a six-month lapse.

I gave the therapist a strained smile. “We’ll both resume regular sessions soon. Sorry, Susenne.”

She began to gesture dismissively, pausing when she remembered the tea in her hands. “I’m glad I caught you—” she paused, framing her words. “I’ve heard a bit about that busyness of yours.” She glanced at Juliette. “Dear, would you mind if I take your Lady away from you for a few minutes? I won't leave your sight.”

Juliette muttered something and Susenne nudged me toward a natural break in the crowd. “I've heard you’ve been introduced to the Prince.”

“I have.”

Anyone in the city who needed to keep abreast of the Courts would know. Susenne wasn't High Fae, but I suspected she had several clients among the higher ranks in the Houses. I hadn’t stumbled on her name by accident. She’d come highly recommended as someone whose discretion and neutrality in Court politics could be trusted. Lack of discretion would mean her death.

She pursed her lips. “That's one of the reasons why I want you to come see me this week. The Prince is a source of your intrusive thoughts surrounding your mother’s death—”

“Murder.”

“That’s a charged word. Remember why we decided not to use that word.”

“Because I have a literal and liberal interpretation of the word revenge, and an unhealthy willingness to risk my own neck to bring my ruminations to life.”

“And do we remember,” her voice gentled, “what happened the last time you lost perspective?”

I stiffened. This was not the place to even allude to Embry.

“Do you understand what will happen if you challenge the Prince, Aerinne?”

“I have afullunderstanding.”

“Can you tell me?”

I stared at her a beat. I knew why she wanted me to verbalize my thoughts. She wanted me to acknowledge how ridiculous they sounded.

“Death. If I challenge Renaud, I will die.”

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