Page 123 of These Vile Hearts

I pull my hood back, and Evodia’s focus moves quickly to me. “Oleander. You’re—”

“Alive?” The word comes out icy. “Yes. But don’t you worry, so is your precious prince.”

Relief slackens the shock on her face. “How—”

“I’m sure he will tell you all about it over wine and nepenthe later. Right now, I need to speak to the Myrtle Queen.”

Evodia straightens. “The Myrtle Queen is not to be bothered, Miss Oleander.”

“Trust me, she wants to be bothered by this. And my name is Maddox. I’m not a fucking flower.” I move toward the feathered curtain on the left.

Stepping around the desk, Evodia blocks my way. “I will give you one more chance to—”

A familiar form enters through the green curtain. Tan skin, braided mohawk, permanent scowl, and black antlers. “The axeling is with us,” Drosera informs her.

Face morphing from annoyed to surprised to almost amused, Evodia turns eyes on me. “Sothatis your little secret, then. You made a deal with the Myrtle Queen.”

“Yep. I’m a desperate mortal cliché.” I follow Drosera into the uncharacteristically empty theater. The crimson stage curtain is closed.

Drosera looks me over. “Not going to lie, axeling, I am truly shocked you’re still alive.”

“I’m shocked you care.”

“Oh, I don’t,” she assures me. “Just shocked. Anyway, Queen Amanita has made the stage her suite, but she won’t mind you interrupting, I’m sure.”

Drosera leads me up the stairs and halts at the front of the closed curtain. “Atlas,” she hisses to the slit in the material. “I have a delivery.”

I flinch at the word. “Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry, I have apain in the assout here. Please take it off my hands.”

The curtain twitches open to reveal Atlas. Dark blue eyes grow round when she sees me. They hold shock, like Drosera’s, but also relief. Despite everything, I offer her a tired smile. Among the thorns and brambles, kindness has still managed to grow in some places.

“Who is it, Atlas?” The Myrtle Queen’s chilling voice rings out from the shadows of the stage. “Tell them I’m rather busy.”

Atlas pulls the curtain open and waves me inside.

A massive bed sits upstage, its headboard replaced by a shattered mirror with gold running through the cracks. The queen lies in the center, dressed in leather armor enrobed in a decorative bodice. Our most requested male orchid, Adonis, hovers over her, completely nude and erect. I would’ve blushed two weeks ago. Now my eyes merely pass over him to the dryad he’s worshiping.

Queen Amanita Umbellularia pushes his face away from her neck, a slow-spreading grin unfurling. “Maddox Sinclair. What a wondrous surprise to seeyouafter the night’s thrilling events.”

“Ah, you do remember me,” I say. “Funny, I thought you’d forgotten.”

“We were in the middle of a celebration meant to keep the two kingdoms allied together. Admitting I recognize the mortal trying to kill the Redwood King wouldn’t be the wisest choice on my part, now, would it?”

An angry breath catches in my chest. “King Durian is dead. Our deal is done.”

Adonis goes white, sliding from the bed like syrup dripping off a stack of pancakes, terror-struck eyes fixed on me. The Myrtle Queen shoos him away. “Leave, boy.” She waits for him to scurry out of the theater before she speaks again. “And the horns?”

Reaching into the deep pockets of my cloak, I pull out Durian’shorns, still wrapped in gold leaves. A gleam enters the queen’s eyes, and she slides to the edge of the bed, holding out her hands.

I stay where I am. “When does the other half of the pact happen? When do I get what I am owed?”

I’m so fucking tired.

A phantom grin casts darkly over her features. “When you hand me the horns.”

I hold on to them more tightly. “How do I know you will uphold your end?”