“You’ll not have war this time,” Sorcha told her. It wasn’t a truth but an opinion.
“Why? Will you come after me, sister? Will you bring Faerie into the mortal world to hunt me?” Bananach crooned. Ravens that did not belong in Sorcha’s garden flocked down around Bananach; vermin crawled from the earth like a writhing gray carpet; and Bananach stood with her wings outstretched. War was coming unless something significant changed.
Sorcha remained silent.
“Come after me. Bring chaos to their world,” Bananach taunted. “Come protect your pet.”
“You will not touch him.” Sorcha stepped closer to her sister. “Summer and Darkness will strike you. I might not be able to stand against you, but I will send every faery I have to strike you. Come against him, and I will see you dead.”
“And if killing me means your death?” Bananach tilted her head curiously.
“So be it.” Sorcha kissed War on the forehead. “You’ve lost this battle, sister mine. There will be no war.”
Bananach paused. She stared into the distance, but didn’t share her visions of destruction. She smiled in horrific glee. “No, I’ve not lost yet.”
Then she strode away through the garden with her entourage, and in her wake were charred footsteps and bleeding flowers.
EPILOGUE
Seth walked into Niall’s home. Niall hadn’t ever wanted him to be there, but that was before. When I was mortal. Things had changed.
No one stopped Seth. He was a declared Friend of the Dark Court, welcome among them, protected by their last breaths if necessary.
“Brother,” Niall said as Seth approached the dais.
The throngs of Dark Court faeries watched openly. Seth saw threads of Ly Ergs and glaistigs woven together. Then the picture blurred. Bananach. My aunt. Seth couldn’t see her threads, but he felt her somewhere in the world.
“I need your help.” Seth didn’t bow, but he lowered his gaze respectfully. He was a faery now, and chosen brother or not, Niall was still king.
“Say the word. If it’s not against the good of my court”—Niall sat straighter in his throne—“I’ll always help you.”
Seth looked up and caught Niall’s gaze. “I’m the High Queen’s own. For eternity, I’ll spend a part of my life with her in Faerie. I’m the Summer Queen’s beloved. But it is your help I need now. Sorcha’s made me faery and given me gifts. I would do what’s best for her now.”
“Supporting the High Court’s need for order is not what’s best for the Dark Court,” Ani said from somewhere to his left. The half-Hound, half-mortal girl had dreams of chaos that her king and court restricted.
“Neither’s protecting the Summer Court’s pet,” grumbled one of the thistle-fey.
Protectively, Chela moved closer to Seth.
During the long pause, Seth stared only at Niall—whose threads were so myriad that that they might as well be invisible. The Dark King waited, hopeful in a way that he didn’t even realize. If Seth couldn’t see so truly, he’d believe that Niall’s raising his hand was a casual gesture. It wasn’t. It was both fearful and excited. “Tell me what you want.”
“To train with Gabriel’s Hounds. Sometimes setting things to order requires blood.” Seth let his gaze drift across
the assembled Dark Court fey and then back to their king. “I need to know how to defend myself and to wound others. I need to know how to hunt. Will you help me?”
“It would be an honor,” Niall said. “If the Hounds agree?”
Gabriel laughed. Chela smiled. Faeries grinned and nodded.
Seth did bow then. He saw the threads of possibilities all around him. As long as he didn’t tell them that it was Bananach he intended to hunt, he’d find much help here.
“Welcome home, brother.” Niall stepped forward and embraced him. “This change suits you well.”
It did. Seth had a purpose now. And a chance at eternity with Ash.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book would not have happened without the insights and passion of Anne Hoppe. Thank you for believing in my characters and for sharing the journey. These books are yours as much as they are mine.