Page 71 of Immortal Sins
I force a stiff breath down my lungs. “You hold all the cards, it seems, and yet, you need something from me.” If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be making threats.
“The Academy is under attack from these spectres. The hollows threaten our lands once more, and I need to fix it.”
I square my shoulders. “If I help you, I want Oz exposed for his part in Beth’s death, and Cole exonerated of all charges.”
He shakes his head. “I appointed Osbourne. It would make me look weak.”
My pulse flutters. This is where I need to sell him hard on my vision. “No. You would be the genius that uncovered him. The one to crush a budding war with Faerie over a well-crafted lie.”
His lips purse in contemplation. “The Fae would demand retribution.”
“Let them have him, and the horn.”
Darkwood scoots closer. “You’ve thought about this in detail.” Despite his age and lean build, he could snap my neck before Cole or Erron could react.
I press the ball of my thumbs into the bench to keep from cowering away. “I did. As I understand it, I’m the only one who can close the portal for you.”
If he’d had another option, he wouldn’t be here. I’m banking on that.
He clicks his tongue. “They can have Osbourne, and your prince can be cleared of all charges. But I need the horn.” He straightens his cufflinks and stands, adjusting the lapels of his suit. “Piper is sick. She needs its magic to survive.”
“Then you will swear to keep my secret, and I’ll meet you in Dark Falls tomorrow at midnight, Dark Falls time.” I school my features into a neutral expression, but inside, I’m shaking. My heart soars. Allie helped kill Beth to save her mother. For the first time since I found out about her involvement in Beth’s murder, things are starting to make sense. If we can free Beth’s soul from the horn first, I might just be willing to give it back to them.
Darkwood extends his hand. “I swear it.”
I glance at my prince. Erron stops speaking, and their animated chatter dies in one breath. “Not to me. You will swear it to Cole.”
A flash of white teeth quickens my pulse before Darkwood snickers. “Well played, Miss Winslow. Well played.”
26
SOLSTICE
Red, orange, and yellow vines with matching, freshly-cut flowers decorate the entrance to the palace’s ballroom. Sinuous antler chandeliers float in the air, suspended by magic.
An incessant stream of enchanted bronze leaves topples from the ceiling and pepper our shoulders. Light reverberates off their polished shapes and dazzles the dance floor. A large banquet table in the back offers a variety of delicacies, from tiny tarts to an open-mouthed boar.
Women were asked to wear red, and the men black. I rebelled and wore a puffy red bolero over a black dress, along with ruby slippers that would have put Dorothy’s to shame.
I already stand out, surrounded by flawless Fae glamors, with the prince on my arm… I might as well try to feel good. The tattoos on Cole’s bare chest are visible, his jacket left unbuttoned.
“My sister, Helena, hosts this year, so she chose the theme. Thank the Gods, the last one was all togas and laurels.” He adjusts his bronze cufflinks, and I school my gaze back to the buffet not to drool. Married or not, the sight of him all dolled up...
“Are all your siblings here?” I search the crowd for Fae wearing earrings, which I learned from my readings is a mark of royal blood.
Cole grimaces. “By the Dark Mother, I hope not.”
We greet Cole’s sister at the front of the ballroom. People stand in line to congratulate her on a job well-done. Fae, sprites, pixies, and a few supernaturals chat in small groups, the guest list lengthier than I expected.
An old woman with bright-green hair and tanned skin reminds me of Brie, and I point to her discreetly. “Is that Brie’s grandmother?”
“Yes. Erron invited the whole family, but with the current political climate, only Brenna Demers showed,” Cole whispers in my ear.
My shoulders sag. I can’t believe it, but I would have loved to see Brie and catch-up on Dark Falls. Information trickles to this realm slower than a baby ghoul, no one even heard of the hollows on this side of the mirror.
It’s our turn to greet Helena.
Her sleeveless, heart-shaped bustier barely covers her ample breasts. “You wore black.” An edge chops through her melodic tone.
