Page 429 of Primal Bonds

“Wise choice,” Neoma said. “Now, get going.” She jerked her chin at a path of smooth white pebbles.

The warriors released Rosana, but kept her separated from Adric.

The trail wound through the trees and past the pond before plunging into a garden that was, impossibly, blooming in the dead of winter. A moon garden of lush white flowers: creamy azaleas, snowy peonies, roses of pale ivory. Even when they passed back into the woods, lilies of the valley carpeted the forest floor like living pearls, and the smooth pebbles beneath their bare feet were as warm as if it was a balmy summer night.

In the distance, they heard shouting, saw bursts of light above the trees. There was a crack like thunder and the entire sky lit up.

Rosana’s heart leapt. “They’re here!” she said in subvocal tones.

In front of her, Adric nodded without looking back.

“Keep going.” The guards herded them forward.

The path ended in a clearing. A frisson slid over Rosana’s skin as they entered, indicating they’d passed through a ward.

The sights and sounds of the battle were instantly erased. Instead, shadows reigned, dark, menacing. Even the rain stopped, the ground beneath their bare feet cold but dry. Neck prickling, Rosana edged closer to Adric.

One by one, a circle of night fae emerged out of the gloom, each more beautiful than the previous—but in a cold, untouchable way, like perfect, polished statues. Their faces first, gleaming palely like the ivory sheen of the moon behind a cloud, even the darker skinned among them. Next to appear were their spare, elongated bodies: three females in short silver dresses and eight males all in black.

At the circle’s apex, Langdon shimmered into sight on a solid silver throne topped by a triple moon: a full moon flanked by two crescent moons. Like the other men, he was dressed in unrelieved black except for the circlet of diamond-studded platinum leaves vined around his head.

Standing at his side was the thirteenth member of the circle, a woman with ebony hair and Blaer’s fine-boned face, but older, harder. Diamonds glittered in her pointed ears and on the platinum bands twined around her upper arms. A single black star hung from a heavy platinum chain around her neck.

A priestess.

Rosana’s lungs locked. She dug her bare heels into the soil, tugging them both to a halt.

“Adric. No.”

He pressed her fingers. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” She shook her head frantically. “It’s her. The woman in my vision. They’re going to kill you.”

“Come.” Langdon beckoned them with a single pale hand.

“Be ready to run,” Adric muttered. He released Rosana’s hand and strode forward. “Well?” With a sneer, he folded his arms over his chest. “I’m here.”

Rosana looked frantically around for Neoma. At least if Adric had his quartz, he could shift—or cloak himself and escape the circle. But Neoma and the other warriors who’d brought them had disappeared.

She moved up beside Adric. But he put out an arm and moved her behind him without taking his gaze from Langdon.

Still trying to protect her when they were face to face with one of the darkest, most powerful fae on the planet.

Her heart clenched. “Amo-te,” she whispered. I love you.

She remained where he’d put her. Guarding his back.

Langdon eyed them without speaking. The circle of night fae went motionless along with him, their eyes gleaming darkly like a pack of wolves.

Rosana gulped, and then pulled back her shoulders. They might sense her fear, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of showing it.

Adric’s scent was hot with fury. He stared back at Langdon, cat-quiet.

As the tension stretched, the priestess drew the tip of her tongue over her full lower lip like she could taste their fear and anger.

Langdon broke the silence first. “Lord Adric. Senhorita do Rio. Welcome to my court. Peace to you and yours.”

“Fuck your peace,” Adric snarled. “We’re here against our will. I demand you release us.”

---