Page 152 of Fallen Nocturne

The Fae King’s body goes rigid. Every muscle in him strains against the command, but slowly, unwillingly, he lowers himself before her.

Lilith steps forward and slaps him across the face.

Eirik does not move. He cannot. His eyes burn with hatred, but his body remains kneeling at her feet.

A king powerful enough to summon the Wild Hunt has been reduced to this.

Lilith turns back to her reflection and touches her newly healed cheek.

“What should I do with them?” Thormein asks.

“Take them away for now.”

The living cage shudders around us. Branches extend beneath the floor and twist together into great wooden wheels. More limbs curve over the top, forming an enclosed carriage built from pale wood and black thorns.

The wheels begin to turn without horses or a driver.

We are carried from the throne room through a set of doors that open at Thormein’s command. The farther we travel, the weaker I become. Symbols carved into the branches glow with dull green light, suppressing our magic and draining the strength from our limbs. By the time the carriage stops, I can barely keep myself upright.

The prison does not release us. Its branches unfold just enough to create more room inside before weaving shut again. We remain trapped behind the thorn-covered bars, packed together within the living cage.

Rhianelle crawls to Rainer at once. He is propped against the wall, his face gray. Black veins spread from the bite on his arm, crawling across his chest and up the side of his neck. The Nevrin poison is consuming him from within. It is one of the deadliest poison curses known to fae mages.

She presses glowing hands against the wound.

“Heal the fae first,” Rainer says. His voice is weak and strained. “Do not waste your blessings on me.”

Tears slide down Rhianelle’s face as her light sinks into his arm. “I can stop it.”

We all know she cannot. Nevrin poison usually kills within a day. There is no known antidote.

Rainer coughs, and blood flecks his lips. He glances at the blood without surprise. “I am a servant of Kvatosh, the god of war. His blessings will keep the poison from killing me.”

Rhianelle’s hands tremble. “That curse has killed gods before. I cannot lose you too. You are the only family I have left.”

Rainer reaches for her with his uninjured hand. His fingers close weakly around her wrist.

“You are not losing me. I promised I would never leave you.” His breathing is shallow, but his voice grows firmer. “You are not ready to manage without me yet. How could I possibly go anywhere?”

A broken laugh escapes Rhianelle through her tears.

“I will not leave you.” Rainer nods toward Landon. “Go on. Heal him.”

Rhianelle finally moves to Landon. She kneels beside him and places both hands against his chest. Golden light spills between her fingers, spreading over his battered body, but he does not open his eyes.

Through all of it, I cannot stop looking at Wolf.

Shade has given him a length of dark cloth to wrap around his waist. He accepted that without hesitation. My red cape still lies abandoned somewhere in the throne room.

Wolf of the Sylverin clan.

I imagined what I would say if I ever saw him again. I would demand to know why he left. I would tell him exactly what his silence did to me. I would make him look me in the eye and admit that whatever passed between us meant nothing to him.

Now he is only a few feet away.

Alive.

Real.