Destined for the Fae King (Courts of Faery #3)

Chapter 30

I n moments, the hallway we appear in is full of activity, and we’re being shown into the queen’s private rooms. They’re as grand and lavish as one might expect but not in the ostentatious and cold way that my aunt and uncle’s home is. Her quarters exude warmth and comfort, with plush seating, blankets aplenty, and many woven tapestries hanging from the walls. Shelves filled with all sorts of knickknacks take up the remaining space, and a hint of something earthy clings to the air, just like it did in my abuela’s home before she passed.

We need all of that comfort right now.

“A few of you go back and make sure all of the women are brought to me immediately,” the queen orders. “And find out what’s happened!”

The guards rush to obey, their movement a sharp contrast to the rest of us, who stand like frozen pillars near the entrance. I quickly take stock of the women around me. Zoe, Katherine, Adeline, Grace, Cora. Gabriella is here now too. But where are Alex and Bailey ?

“Grace!” comes a cry from the hallway. And then Alex is there, wide-eyed and breathing heavy.

“I’m here!” Grace rushes to her friend. “The king,” she starts. “What happened?”

Alex clings to the doorframe, as disheveled and panicked as I’ve ever seen her. All her focus is on Grace, as if she almost can’t believe she’s there.

“Come in, child.” Elaine hobbles forward with her cane, waving off the guards, who always seem to try to help her only to get refused. “Sit. You’re safe here.”

Alex blinks and nods, but it’s clear she’s only half here. Her attention darts from one of us to the next as she makes her way to the nearest chair and all but falls into it.

The air in the room is full of tension and unspoken questions. I come and take a seat near her, waiting for the answers I can sense before they’re spoken. Alex is never rattled, but whatever happened has knocked her for a doozy.

“I was with the king,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. She glances at the dowager. “Everything was fine. We thought we might have the beast’s trail. But all of the sudden, he went eerily still. And then his wrist, the bond mark”—she holds up her own for emphasis—“it started to smoke.”

The dowager’s eyes close and don’t reopen. Some of the strength seems to go out of her, and she doesn’t rebuff the guard who eases her toward a chair.

Alex turns toward the rest of us. “He cried out like he was in pain. Then vanished without a word. We heard another cry then saw fire. He didn’t return.” She hangs her head, shakes it, then look up at Grace. “I worried— I thought maybe…”

Cora rises to her feet. “Where’s Bailey?” Unexpected brittleness clings to the name .

Dawning horror seeps through my veins like molasses.

“Where is she?” Cora asks again, her voice rising in a panic.

“Dead.”

The single word knocks the breath from me like a punch to the chest. Even more so because of the male who delivered it. Lysandir stands in the doorway, something protruding from his closed fist. Tharin stands just behind him.

His statement was for the whole room, but he stares only at me, a hollow emptiness in his eyes like it’s my death he pronounced.

“No,” Adeline gasps. Grace lets out a whimper. Even Cora collapses on a sofa and covers her face. Tears come from nowhere to leak down my face.

Lysandir grimaces and cuts his gaze toward the floor.

Dead.

Bailey, who was kind to everyone. Who had a million brothers and sisters back home that she loved and cared for. Bailey, who might be the only one of us who truly cared for the king. And who he may have cared for in return.

No. Did care for.

It was anguish I heard in his cry. Utter devastation. The pillar of fire… It was his rage. Heartbreak.

My nails carve little grooves in my palms. He loved her, damn it! She was his pick. His choice.

“It’s not possible,” Zoe implores. “It can’t be. We’re safe here. She—” She claps a hand over her mouth, tears leaking down her face.

“We believed so as well.” Lysandir enters the room and comes to kneel before his mother, who has finally opened her eyes. For the first time since I’ve seen her, she looks her age. Worse, she looks defeated .

Lysandir unfurls his palm. The object he holds looks like the back end of an arrow, but the fletching and make are different than the ones we had.

“That style…” Elaine glances up in horror.

He nods and tightens his fist around it once more. “Unseelie.”

The word steals any remaining warmth from the room.

“But the wards,” I say. They’re supposed to keep the Unseelie out or at least alert of their presence, should they be breached. That’s what happened before. We’re near the center of the territory. If Unseelie had slipped past their defenses, they should have felt it long ago.

Lysandir rises to his feet. “With all the comings and goings of members of the other courts over the past days, we must have missed something.”

“Missed something?” Alex snaps, whirling in her seat. “ Missed a deadly enemy?”

“Alex—” I begin, rising to Lysandir’s defense. She whirls on me, her teeth pulled back in a snarl.

A strong tug on my wrist nearly pulls me from my feet. A few other women cry out. But no one has touched me. Still, it feels like ghost has grabbed me and is trying to toss me across the room.

“What is—” Alex grabs her wrist, right over the bond mark, and suddenly it all clicks.

I snap my attention to Lysandir, a question in my gaze. As suddenly as it started, the tug releases like a snapped rope.

“Vasilius is furious.” His gaze dips to my wrist. “He’s trying to go to the Shadow Lands.”

“But he can’t,” I say. “The power of the bonds he has with all of us prevent him from being so far away. Just like the power is trying to pull us to him, it’s jerking him back to us nine-fold.”

A stab of sorrow pierces my chest .

Eight-fold. Not nine. Not anymore.

“Find him,” Elaine demands of her son. “Talk some sense into him. He cannot storm into battle during The Choosing, not with all of the women here.”

“I will,” Lysandir promises his mother.

He turns to me, and once again, his eyes hold an ocean of sorrow. All I want to do is run to him, wrap my arms around his neck, and pull him close. But I can’t. Not here. And then he’s gone, off to carry out orders.

Tharin steps into the void. “I must ask you all to stay here for now, for your safety.” To the queen, he says, “Advisor Memnon was severely injured but lives. Hopefully, we will be able to learn more when he wakes.”

“Inform me at once, whatever you learn,” she says.

Tharin bows, and then he’s gone too.

Sorrowful silence and sniffles accompany us until Cora speaks.

“She was his choice, wasn’t she?” Her makeup is smeared, but she doesn’t seem to care. All of her spark has gone out. I thought her companionship with Bailey was a recent thing, a front to get closer to the king, but maybe I was wrong. “He was going to pick her.”

Elaine swallows. The slight bob of her head that follows is another nail in each of our hearts. He cared for her. He was going to choose her.

But Bailey—sweet, wonderful Bailey—is dead. The king will have to choose anoth—

I cry out. My hand flies to cover my mouth, but it’s too late to stifle the sound. The horror of my realization threatens to choke me, and it takes everything I have to pull in one breath or another.

“Mira?” Adeline sniffles and slides closer to me before wrapping her arm around my shoulders .

She can’t help. No one can. Because the king’s choice is dead. He will have to choose another.

And Lysandir has already seen that outcome.