Plucking a small towel from the vanity’s counter, she scrubbed away the excess makeup from her previous performance. Jarek had smeared lipstick, powder, and paint all over her face earlier, and if she was expected to perform again, she certainly wasn’t going to do so looking like a sullen, morbid fae. She stole a glance in the faintly illuminated mirror and bit back a strangled scream.
The makeup she wiped off was gone, but she didn’t recognize the female in the mirror staring back at her. Her eyes were lined heavily with kohl, golden powder was dusted across her eyelidsand the apples of her cheeks. Shimmering crimson painted her lips and gilded dagger earrings dangled from the tips of her ears while diamond studs replaced the amethysts she usually wore. She turned her head from side to side in a daze, unable to comprehend how it happened. Even her hair had been pulled into a high ponytail, fastened in place by a golden ribbon.
Everinne looked at the towel in her hands, then back at her reflection.
Glamour.
It was the only possible excuse.
Suddenly, a distinctive tug pulled on her heartstrings, and she jumped upright. The bond warmed, a soothing familiarity.
Atlas.
Atlas washere.
He’d come for her.
Spinning around, she started for the door. She was going to tumble right into his arms, and he would carry her out of this hellish nightmare. Then she would be safe. They would find a way to break the chains the Mystic Obscura had wrapped around her. They would cut the leash to the invisible collar the kralv had bound around her neck. Then she would finally befree.
Everinne yanked open the door, tears of elation clinging to her lashes, and was devoured by the wicked dark.
Forty-Five
“Are you certain this is a good idea?” Caedian asked, his silvery brows drawing together.
“No.” Atlas shoved a hand through his hair. In fact, he knew it was a very bad idea, but as of now, it was his only option. And Reine’s statement had cemented that notion. “But there’s no other way. I told you what Reine said, she can’t release Everinne. But if my father can guarantee her freedom, then that’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
He stood with Caedian and Veros in one of the darkened corridors of the palace outside the throne room where his father was currently holding court. The witching hour was already upon them, the moon high in the night sky, yet still Oldrich had not yet retired. All Atlas needed was a few moments alone with him, a scrap of time to plead his case, to ask his father to use his authority to get Everinne out of the Mystic Obscura.
“Are you truly guaranteeing her freedom, though?” Veros asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants, the gold chain to his timepiece glinted softly in the low light. “From the clutches of the Mystic Obscura to the kralv’s iron fist hardly seems like a fair trade.”
Caedian nodded in agreement. “From one prison to another.”
“What else would you have me do?” Atlas threw his arms wide and faced Veros, his temper rising. “You’re her brother, yet you’ve adamantly been against every suggestion I’ve thrown your way since I got back from the Marzena. It’s almost like you want her to suffer, like she deserves nothing less.”
Veros was in his face a second later. “That’s not fucking true, and you know it.”
Caedian stepped between them and caught Veros’s fist before he could throw the first punch.
“You want to know why I’ve been so composed and so levelheaded throughout this whole fucking ordeal? It’s because sheismy sister.” Veros shrugged Caedian off, pacing away from them. “Because I know that one wrong move, one mistake, could cost her life. I haveseenthis, Atlas. Minute by fucking minute, I’ve watched this scenario unfold and there is not a damn thing I can do to stop it.”
“I’m going to—” Atlas started, but Veros plowed on, refusing to let him get a word in.
“There isnothingyou can do that will alter the course of her destiny. Or your own. Choices have already been made, and time doesn’t give second chances.” Veros pulled out his timepiece, carefully spinning the gold chain around his finger so it ticked and whirred. “Whether it be the will of gods, or stars, or fate, I cannot say. All I know is the past is what was, the present is what is, and the future is what will be…and when you walk into that throne room, whatever you say or do will not change the outcome. The motion has already been set.”
“Fuck.” Atlas roughed a hand over his face, hating that his two closest friends were right. If Everinne got out of the Mystic Obscura, she was just trading one prison for another. “It’s the lesser of two evils. In the Mystic Obscura, Everinne is untouchable. I can’t get to her, I can’t see her, and that fuckingdemon summoner is there. I’ve seen the way he looks at her, and I want to gouge his eyeballs out with a serrated blade.”
Dejection smothered him, threatening to snuff out the glimmer of hope he still carried. “In the palace, though, I can protect her. It won’t be easy and I’ll have to watch my back, but at least I’ll know where she is at all times.”
When Veros spoke, his voice was a near-silent whisper. “What if you can’t protect her?”
“Then I’ll die trying.” Atlas met the intensity of his stare without flinching. “Right now, Oldrich sees Everinne as a means to an end. To him, she’s a weapon. She’s useful. And he won’t want to lose that to anyone, especially not Reine and Jarek.”
Caedian considered his plight, running his knuckles along his sharp jawline. “That’s a fair point.”
“The only way I can get my father to help,” Atlas ventured, his next words souring on the tip of his tongue, “is by convincing him that someone else has the one thing he wants.”
Seconds of tense silence pulsed between them, until finally, Veros conceded.