Page 12 of Hell Fae King
“I need a favor,” I admitted as I settled into the black leather booth behind me. Death’s Den, the place at which my brother opted to meet, was nothing like Typhos’s club. There were no eternal-fire pits or red velvet ornaments here. Just gothicarchitecture outlined in bones and skulls, the obsidian interior reminiscent of a crypt.
I supposed that was accurate given its location in the center of the Netherworld Kingdom.
“A favor?” Maliki echoed, sounding amused. “Interesting, that. I believe I could have used one of those recently while being held by your king.”
“He’sourking,” I corrected him. “And our brotherly relation is what kept you alive. Many would consider that a favor in itself.”
He snorted. “If that’s the hand you want to play, so be it. What’s the favor?”
“It’s not a hand, Mal. It’s the truth.” I leaned forward on the rocklike table, careful to avoid the untouched pitcher of spider ale in front of us, and gave him a hard look. “Typhos wanted to kill you. He held back for me. I felt it in our bond.”
“Then I’m thankful we’re related,” he deadpanned, clearly not at all grateful for said relation.
“Why the fuck did you open that portal?” I wondered out loud. “You didn’t even venture off in search of a mate. Hell, last we chatted, you didn’t want a bride.”
“And neither did you, yet my nose tells me that’s changed,” he tossed back.
“Circumstances changed,” I said through my teeth.
“Indeed.”
I remained quiet for a beat as a Death Fae wandered by us in a flowing black robe. There were several others lingering around at the bone-laden bar, their attires similar in nature as they knocked back shots of translucent liquid. Some Corpse Fae were in another booth at the back, a set of cards sprawled out before them.
This was the Netherworld Village, the area of the Netherworld Kingdom where both Death Fae and Corpse Fae came to mingle. And Death’s Den was the heart of it all.
A quiet place filled with lethal secrets, like the one I was about to reveal to my brother.
“Actually, my new mate is why I’m here,” I told him softly. “Vivaxia has done something to her.”
Maliki’s posture went rigid, the name one he knew well. Not from his personal history, but from mine.
He was fortunate to have been born in the Hell Fae Realm after Lucifer’s fall, our sperm donor of a father having survived long enough to fuck another female—Maliki’s mother.
Neither of us knew if our father was still alive, but we hadn’t seen him in over two thousand years. Of course, with our father having a strong amount of Paradox Fae blood in him, it was very likely he had just lost himself while time-traveling.
Or perhaps he’d opted to live in another timeline entirely. I didn’t fucking care. He’d never been a father to me. Which was one of the many reasons I often avoided the small amounts of Paradox Fae magic inside me. I much preferred to embrace my Phoenix Fae heritage over the mixed origin that had created my father.
But Maliki wasn’t like me. He indulged in all aspects of his nature, particularly the dangerous parts. Which was why I’d come to him with this specific favor.
“You’re going to need to give me more information,” he told me as he grabbed the full pitcher between us to pour himself a drink. “Like how the fuck a Hell Fae Bride ran into Vivaxia.”
I replicated his movements to take some spider ale for myself. It wasn’t my favorite drink, the venomous bite of the liquid leaving a numbing effect behind, but I could use a stiff drink.
Settling back into the plush leather, I held my brother’s golden-eyed gaze. “Hit the button.”
He smiled. “Finally. All this small talk was giving me a headache.”
I gave him my best unamused look. We both knew I would have asked him to put up the privacy screen when we first arrived, but he would’ve demanded a reason.
Hence the purpose of the five minutes ofsmall talkhe’d just referenced.
“Just put up the damn screen,” I told him.
He smirked and reached for the skull icon etched into the tabletop, only to pause right as his finger met the metallic symbol.
“Can we help you?” he asked flatly, his glittering gaze on me while his words were meant for the trio of Death Fae who’d just approached our table.
I didn’t look at them, just sipped my ale. They knew who I was; everyone in this fucking realm knew my name.
