Page 67 of Ulune's Daughter

“Deep dish it is.” Kellan stretches out her arm without even looking behind her. Their bags fly into her hand. She reaches up and draws her claws down through the Air. The Veil rends.

She takes Rhodes’ hand and leads him into the World Wood, leaving Luca and me staring after her.

My twin makes a strange, breathy noise. Is he trying to whistle? Our Cait lips are not made for that.

Ready to tell Dad?he thinks.

No. I want pizza.

Mother might order you a pizza, he allows.But if you delay in telling Dad what we just saw, you’ll be eating it without your skin.

I sigh. He’s right. Our father will want to know immediately.

I’ve never resented being the Cait’s Heir more than this moment.

With a nod at my twin, I turn and stride into the World Wood. Sadly, in the opposite direction as our mate.

Chapter23

The Cathmoir

LUCA

Visits home are complicated.

It’s both easier and harder for Law. He’s the Heir. Everyone wants to see him. He’s treated like, well, royalty. But the flip side of that iseveryone wants to see him. He can barely take a breath without someone demanding he breathe it for them.

I used to resent his celebrity status. But as our father’s legacy demands more and more of him, and Law gets colder and more distant with each new duty, my resentment turned to pity.

That’s why I haven’t fought him harder over Kellan, despite the fact I can barely get a minute that’s not academic with my own mate. For the first time in years, he’s excited about something. He’s breaking rules. Living in the moment. Following the dictates of his heart. He’s almost—dare I say it—happy? My grim, fierce, dutiful brother is happy for the first time in years.

As much as he drives me crazy, I love my brother. I want him to be happy.

And if what I just saw in a Turkish cave is any indication, our mate is more than up to the challenge of being Law’s queen. Fuck, my parents and the Cait and maybe all of Faery have absolutely no idea what’s coming for them.

We step out of the Fae Ways in the carved, wooden entranceway of Cait House. My father doesn’t have a court like the other fae kings, even though he counts among his people double the numbers of a court like Thistlemist. My father does not call himself king, although all of the Cait bow to him. But my father needs no court nor title. His power is a hot blanket over the skin, palpable from a quarter-mile away.

This close, it’s like being smothered in his fur.

My parents didn’t understand why I was so desperate to go away to boarding school. Neither did Law. But they all humored me. The second son. The Spare. Only good enough to be a scholar. Never the leader of our warriors. Never the king of our people. I laughed off the whispers but I heard them. I capitalized on the whispers and got them to send me away to Addlestone and then Bevington.

But the truth is, I didn’t leave to escape the whispers, or the stares. I left to get away fromhim. From constantly suffocating in my father’s power.

Hard to do that when he throws open the doors to his audience hall and strides to us, his long, black-furred robe trailing behind him.

He hugs us both. Dad’s always tried to treat us equally. But he turns his head and kisses Law’s cheek first.

“Boys! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”

“We didn’t know until a minute ago,” Law explains.

“Well, come in, come in. We’ll get you some clothes.” Dad pulls us through the doors, through his audience hall which is mostly empty except for one of our cousins who is polishing woodwork, probably as a punishment since we have a whole clan ofbwgwho care for Cait House, and into the family apartments behind the hall.

Mom and her handmaiden, Larissa, are waiting for us among the dark woods and deeply cushioned furnishings of the family lounge. I’m not sure if Dad and Mom can speak to each other telepathically the way Law and I can when we’re in our Cait forms, but Mom always knows everything before it happens. So it’s no surprise that Larissa has a set of sweats folded over her arms for each of us.

“Thank you,” I say to her, taking the sweats and pulling them on. “Law wants pizza.”

She nods and bows and slips away to order it. I’ve never heard Larissa speak, although Law swears he has. Somehow, she always manages to do anything anyone asks of her without a word.

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