Bael’s room was once located in one of the towers alongside the rest of us, but he’d moved down alongside the kitchens at some point over the last decade while I’d been away. I supposed it was easier to hide the cage and avoid the visitors I knew he despised. Out of respect for my cousin and a desire to avoid further infighting, I walked down the many flights of stairs rather than shadow walking directly into his room. It was absurdly rude to do so, anyway, but Bael reveled in rudeness except when it came to what he considered to be his territory. Trespassers did so at their own risk.

Finally coming to a halt in front of the plain wooden door set into the stone wall of the basement corridor, I knocked three times.

There was a long silence where I could picture my cousin, golden-haired and almost cherubic-looking, rolling from his bed within the enormous bronze cage to open the door. Sure enough, the door cracked open, and one yellow eye peeked out. “Whatever it is, Sci, it can wait.”

I wanted to ask if he was alright, but what came out instead was “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Ah, well. He should know he’d been a prick.

Bael let out a harsh laugh. “Should I read into that? Or just assume this is your usual aggression showing?”

“You’re the one acting like a damned lunatic,” I growled.“If we are attacked, at this rate, you’ll be no help.”

His lip curled. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with last night, would it?”

I tensed. Last night—which part? Did he know already what I’d done?

No. Impossible. So, he could only be referring to the hours before I’d gone to visit my brother. The revel.

Unbidden, an image of her rose to my mind. Of her mouth, falling open in ecstasy, her syrup-colored eyes finding mine over Bael’s shoulder. I blinked, trying to banish the image, only for it to be replaced by her wild red hair covering her bare skin in that torn dress.Fuck.

I swiped an angry hand across my face, as if I could wipe the image away. “I don’t give a fuck what you do with her.”

His eyes widened, seeming slightly surprised. Him and me both, if I was honest. I hadn’t realized I didn’t care what he did with her until I said it…so if I wasn’t jealous of Bael, what was bothering me?

A question to be considered later. Much later. Perhaps never.

Seeming mollified, at the very least, Bael opened his door slightly wider. “I take it you want to come in?”

“Well, given that I no longer have a bedchamber thanks to you, yes.” My tone softened ever so slightly. “But if you would prefer not…”

He moved out of the way so I could step over the threshold.”It’s fine.”

The moment I entered, the scent of honey and magic hit me, so strong it was almost overpowering. “You let her in here?”

He narrowed catlike eyes on me. “Is that what you want to talk about?”

I paused. Yes and no.

I strode across the room to step within his enormous cage, which took up two-thirds of the chamber, housing all the furniture. I remembered when it was first built and the ones that had proceeded it that had not been strong enough. Taking a seat on a chair in the corner, which I noted had a claw mark on the seat, I said, “What else should I want to talk about?”

Bael leaned against the cage bars, kicking one foot over the other casually. “Since when do we keep secrets from each other?”

I barked a laugh. “You’re one to talk.”

We were at an impasse. He had to know his behavior was erratic, abnormal, concerning at best. Even if we were not close, it would have been my responsibility to ask about it as head of the family…granted, I had not a fucking inch of ground to stand on regarding erratic behavior, and I knew that. Any other time, I would have told Bael immediately what Ambrose had said, but as he pointed out, things had been strangely tense as of late.

“True enough.” He nodded. “I’ll tell you whatever you like, but you go first.”

“Why?”

“Because of the two of us, I am far less likely to kill the messenger.”

“I wouldn’t attack you,” I snapped. “We don’t fight.”

In fact, we made a conscious effort never to do so. It had been that way for many years. Bael was the youngest of our generation—save for Elfwyn and Lysander—but he and I were not so far apart in age. We had more or less been raised together, and it had become clear from an early age that no good could come from our testing who was the stronger fighter, either physically or magically. We might spar, but we never really tried to learn who would win in true combat. I did not want to know, as knowing would mean either death or the death of my only close friend.

Bael grinned, looking something like himself for the first time all day. “And I would like to keep it that way, so you first, and then I swear on my name, I will tell you whatever you want to know.”