Page 17 of Blood of Two Crowns

“What?”I croaked.

“I washopingwe could help each other.”

Typical.

That was all he ever wanted. More favors. Take, take, take, just like everyone else.

Light footsteps approached from behind until Thalia stood beside him. Or who I’d thought was Thalia. The female shifted to reveal Mors’ sister, the Goddess of Violence. I’d never met her before, but I’d seen her effigy and illustrations in textbooks. I might have been surprised if betrayal, lies, and manipulation hadn’t been the cornerstone of my entire fucking life.

Again, I could only manage one word.

“Aetra.”

Azrael and Keres exchanged a pitying look.

“I won’t be making the same mistake twice, darling,” Azrael replied coolly, “but if you’re amenable, perhaps I can procure something to help momentarily ease the pain.”

The compassion on Keres’ face almost seemed genuine as she caressed my filthy cheek with the back of a finger, gliding down to my throat. “How about we take off this pretty little collar, hm?”

Chapter

Eight

NAKOA

My patience wore as thin as the stone of the bedroom balcony I was pacing a hole into. The gnawing agony of the tether bonding me to Mareina had faded to a dull throb, and instead of being relieved, it had heightened my anxiety.

You’re losing her.

My anxiety had drowned out my Knowingness, and now I couldn’t even tell the difference between it and my paranoia.

A moonless night had fallen and everyone, as far as I knew, was sound asleep. There’d still been no sign of my father returning which had only served to enhance the tension winding through me.

In all my years, I never thought I’d ever be so desperate for Miroslav’s presence. I projected my thoughts and my intent into the aether,hopingthat I might be heard.

Miroslav…

Silence.

Miroslav. Miroslav. Miroslav. Miroslav. Miroslav. Miroslav.

More silence.

“He’s ignoring you.”

I froze midstep at the sound of the gravelly voice and swept my gaze up the side of the palace wall. Above the balcony, I found my father perched on the balcony above like a gargoyle. Sinewy wingtips and horns pointed like spires above him. He looked more animal than fae. Or whatever he was. A question that had been chiselling away at my fraying sanity because I had never seen a fae who bared my physical traits nor my magical ones.

Dropping 20 feet from above, he lifted his wings at the last second to lighten his descent, sending a gust of air that blew my hair back. My father landed in front of me with the stealth of a feline. His scent, one that reminded me of burning wood and something faintly sweet like amber, was muddled with numerous others, punctuated by the metallic tang of blood. Lots of blood.

My eyes dipped to the black, blade-like claws, tipping his fingers.

They needed trimming.

Fae didn’t need blood to survive, and I certainly hadn’t either, but perhaps that was inthanksto Zurie.

“You’re able to read thoughts?”

He shook his head, making the long, overgrown sheet of his hair sway, catching a glint of moonlight that revealed a streak of white. “Emotion. Intent. Desire. Needs.”

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