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“You’re my brother,” Everlayne hissed. “Though I sometimes wish you weren’t!”
Kingfisher was a miserable, grouchy bastard without a kind word for anyone. The way he called me that—Oshellith—like it was a dirty word, made me want to smash my fist right through his gorgeous face.
There wasn’t a scrap of remorse to be found on the warrior’s face. He scooped up his armor and his sword, then paused beside me on his way toward the brand-new door that now hung in the doorway. “I just wanted to see if you knew what hard work was. I told you I was magic,” he whispered. And then he was gone.
“Our Fae hearts rarely betray us. We’re calm creatures. But you, Osha? You’re a ball of chaos. Your heart betrays you at every turn.”
He held me so tight now that he was definitely leaving bruises. I wanted them. I wanted to remember this. In the years to come, when I looked back at this moment, I would be glad that I’d taken the leap and jumped. This was the kiss to end all kisses.
“Rule number three. Do not make me do any physical activity,” he snarled. “What part of ‘I am hungover’ did you not fucking understand!”
it. “Really? Because I believe you’re wearing my ring, and I don’t remember fucking giving it to you.”
“This is not my brother, Fisher. This is Carrion fucking Swift!”
I am the thing that exists on the other side of the dark. I’m the thing that puts the fear of the gods into the monsters who would eat you bones and all.”
me. It was her sword, splintering into a thousand shards, the quivering steel needles shooting through the air and hitting the wall above Ren’s head so hard that they drove an inch into the pitted stonework.
“Don’t share food with that prick again, Little Osha.”
Their king. Of all the Fae who chose to remain vampires, he alone is strong enough to fully turn someone and ensure they remain themselves.
And there it was. He wasn’t in control. “You’re bound, aren’t you?” I said, dismayed. “You literally can’t tell me—” “Stop,” he commanded.
I was supposed to be here to protect them. I failed them. So I don’t deserve to be called Lord of Cahlish. I am lord of nothing.”
“Be unrelenting and unmerciful in the face of the wicked dead,” Fisher said. Ren laid a steadying hand on my shoulder. “And if you should find soul sundered from flesh, order a drink for us at the first tavern you come across in the afterlife. We’ll settle the tab when we get there.”
He drew Solace, the blade becoming a flare of brilliant light in the ash-choked air, and then Fisher was spinning. He moved like liquid. Like lightning. Like vengeance.
“I don’t need magic to mess you up, you fuck,” he growled. “This is for me. But mostly, it’s for my parents.”
