Page 57 of Lady of the Nightmares

The scent of the roast stew proved too hard to resist, and I wolfed the entirety of it down despite my initial hesitation. If I died from poisoning, at least my final meal would have been well spent.

When the stew was gone, and so, too, was most of Scion’s ale, we sat in uncomfortable silence, staring at the unmoving door.

“If I was allowed to speak to you, I might ask what you wanted to do if Cross doesn’t appear this evening,” Scion said without looking at me.

I stiffened, knowing all too well that he was making fun of me. The Waywoods were starting to look better and better the longer I sat here.

“I might suggest,” Scion drawled, gaze fixed on the wall, “that we could go look for him, though I don’t know how safe that would be for you. Since I can’t hear your opinion, I cannot suggest that we—”

“Oh, stop it,” I blurted out.

He said nothing, and I heaved a sigh. This was what I got for acting as if he were a normal human man and not a fairy. I’d had only one relationship with a human man, and it had hardly been more than sex, but I felt confident that Caliban would have laughed in my face or stormed out in anger if I’d told him to remain silent. Scion was taking it extremely seriously and would not break until I gave in first.

Biting the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, I let out a garbled sound of aggravation. “Would you please speak normally? I am growing concerned for your health.”

A smile spread across his face that did nothing to dissuade my fears. “I might, but only if you do. I refuse to spend days wasting energy fighting with you.”

“You are the one who constantly insults me.”

He looked like he had something to say about that but managed to reply with only, “I shall do my best to refrain.”

“Why bother? I’m already here, and should I become too difficult, I’m sure you could conjure a shadow gag to go with your rope.”

His eyes darkened slightly. “You should not give me ideas, rebel, or I will think your protest is as much a lie as most everything else that comes out of your mouth.”

I opened my mouth to reply but was interrupted once again as Kaius appeared before us. He held Scion’s latest drink in his right hand but did not hand it over, instead waiting to catch his attention. His presence felt wrong somehow—intrusive. He was of this world where the noises of the tavern still bustled around us, but I felt as though we were sitting apart from everything else. They were all here in Inbetwixt, but we were on a field in Aftermath, the acrid scent of the afflicted choking every breath.

I shook my head and looked up, glaring daggers. “Yes?”

Oddly, this time, I was not nearly as entranced by his sparkle and was unsure if it was the effect of the conversation Scion and I had been having or that the incubus was not attempting to charm me.

“Some advice?” He looked at me with mild amusement. “You should watch your tone. Some Fae might think you aggressive and not find it nearly as adorable as I do.”

“Perhaps,” I said blandly. “Or perhaps my tone is exactly as it is meant to be. Is it my fault if those around me are too stupid to hear a clear warning?”

Scion chuckled softly before turning toward him, his knee brushing mine again as he moved. “What is it?”

“I merely came to tell you that Father will not be coming upstairs this evening but wants me to tell you that the den is open if you wish to go down. He hopes you won’t be too offended.”

Scion cocked his head. “He did not fucking say that.”

“No.” Kaius agreed. “He said that he doesn’t believe you’re fucking here, and if you are, then there’s bound to be an assassin lurking nearby, and he’s too damn old to deal with such things. He wants you to go down and prove you’re not only here but living before he considers stepping a single toe outside. Then he swore several more times and used a name I can’t pronounce.”

Scion snorted. “That sounds more like it.”

“Quite,” Kaius agreed. “But I thought you would prefer the condensed version.”

Scion stood from his stool and offered me his hand as he walked away, notably taking the drink with him. I watched him go for a moment before shaking my head and taking the prince’s hand somewhat grudgingly. “What was that about?”

“You heard him,” Scion said. “Cross invites us down to the den.”

I shook my head—although I did have questions about that, but it wasn’t what I’d meant. “No, I meant…well, he lied. He made up a different version of what your friend said.”

Scion didn’t answer immediately, instead directing me to walk behind the bar and down a hallway toward a long flight of stairs descending into what I could only assume was a cellar.

The stairs were smooth, polished stone, unlike the rough wooden floor of the tavern, and the air grew slightly colder as we climbed down into the dim light of the floor below.

“Incubi—and succubi, for that matter, which are more common, are more Unseelie than Seelie. If Kaius can lie, that would be why.”

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