Page 82 of Vicious Kings
"A herald," Corvinus says through his teeth, snatching the shimmering, transparent parchment the see-through bird has between its talons. The moment it touches his hand, the parchment is solid and the color of bleached hide.
The magical pigeon disappears in a flash of light because he's clearly got better places to be.
That makes two of us.
"So you people really don't believe in phones, do you?" I ask flatly. It's a bit hypocritical, considering my hunter clan shuns most modern technology at the compound, but I think it's less a matter of security for the Fae and more about aesthetics.
"Phones have no style," Corvinus says, confirming my theory.
I roll my eyes.
Corvinus unfurls the scroll and his expression falls as his eyes scan the paper. He mutters some curse in a tongue too ancient for my understanding. It's not even the common Fae language.
"Problem?" I call across the walkway.
"Just a summons from the palace," he says ruefully. "I'm afraid it requires an immediate response, but not to worry. It won't take long to deal with."
"You say that like I wouldn't commit high crimes for five minutes of peace without you."
"You wound me," he says, a hand pressed to his chest, but he's already backing up, the parchment still in hand. A pair of massive, pearly white wings appear out of nowhere and beat the air, lifting him easily a few feet off the ground.
The transformation is so sudden I gasp, staggering back a step.
Corvinus's permanent smirk widens. "I won't leave you to your own devices for long, pet. Try to behave."
"No need to hurry," I say in a tone that could curdle milk, but apparently not his interest.
Corvinus just gives me a wink that would probably make Isabella's posse cream their panties, and takes off into the sky. Majestic motherfucker, I'll give him that.
It's going to make him even more satisfying to kill. Might mount those wings on my wall as a trophy when I get back to the compound.
"You look like you're contemplating murder."
I don't even flinch. I've gotten used to Caelyx's habit of materializing out of shadows like some kind of crimson-eyed nightmare. I'll take it over Corvinus's incessant guardian angel routine any day. "Good guess."
He drops onto the bench beside me, close enough that I can smell his cologne and the alpha aroma underneath it. Professor Wyngrave's words linger in my mind, along with the unwelcome curiosity of wondering whatCaelyxmight smell like to his scent match.
No. Bad omega brain. Sit down and shut the hell up before I put an ice pick in you.
"Let me narrow it down. My brother, specifically?"
"Among others."
"How flattering. I didn't even make the top of your list." He stretches his legs out.
"What makes you so sure?"
He grins. "I have to say, watching you navigate today has been quite entertaining."
"You've been watching me?"
"I watch everything." He says it like it's the most normal thing in the world. "It's how I stay alive in a court that would love to see me dead."
Right. Because he's half Unseelie, half Seelie, and apparently neither court knows what to do with him.
I should probably feel sympathy, as a fellow outcast. But sympathy requires caring, and I'm fresh out of fucks to give.
"Your brother is driving me insane," I say, because if Caelyx already knows what I'm planning, there's no point in pretending. "He's moved me into all his classes, and now he's in one of mine. Asking questions he clearly knows the answers to. Making everyone think we're—" I can't even finish the sentence.
