Page 20 of Fallen Court

Oberon’s nostrils flared as he regarded the old witch. “And you took your time, Ilsa.” He nodded once at the other witch. “Marin.”

“I’m not the one who needs help.” Ilsa straightened under his glare, tilting her chin up.

“You have access to my court by my grace,” he reminded her. “I suppose you think you are above serving the court now that the source of your magic has been returned.”

“No,” the younger one, Marin, jumped in, throwing a pleading look at her companion. “We were in the city preparing for the blood moon. We came as soon as we received word you needed us.”

She nudged Ilsa in the rib cage. Sighing, the other witch nodded, but she didn’t say anything. Oberon, however, looked mollified.

Such a delicate ego for a man who considered himself deadly.

He gestured to me. “She has something I desire—a ring.”

“Have you tried asking her for it?” Ilsa asked dryly.

I barely swallowed a laugh, even as Titania stiffened.

Oberon’s eyes flashed like the lightning of a vengeful god. “Cate and I have a bargain,” he said through gritted teeth, “but it seems she can’t fulfill her end of it. I’m afraid she’s the one who needs your help before I lose patience.”

Icy dread doused any lingering amusement.

I twisted the ring around my finger, but it didn’t budge. Ilsa’s eyes tracked the movement, but she remained silent.

“I believe there is a spell binding it to her,” Oberon continued. “It’s not fae magic. I want to know what it is and why it’s been placed.”

Marin started toward me, and I resisted the urge to run. Barely. Warning tingled across my skin, my entire body going taut, as though this woman was a predator.

Swear that you will never take it off… Fucking swear it.

I shut out Lach’s voice even as guilt flooded through me, hot and sticky and unwelcome. This was the right thing to do—no matter what I had promised him. He couldn’t have known it would come to this.

But the sharp edge of guilt morphed into something oily. I was thinking like a fae—warping the situation to suit me.

Marin’s eyes held mine, a silent demand for compliance as she reached for me. I hesitated, and she impatiently yanked my hand up for inspection. The pleasantries were reserved for Oberon, it seemed. Her leather-clad finger grazed the esmeraude, and a sharp twang of pain shot across my fingers and through my arm. I wrenched my hand away.

“What the hell?” I stroked the lingering throb. “That hurt!”

“You were right to call us,” Marin said, reaching toward me again.

But before she could touch me, the older witch took a step closer, as swift as a striking serpent. Her gaze flickered around us, pausing to assess Oberon with a calculating gleam. The room seemed to hold its breath; even the fae prince shifted on his feet and looked to where his guards stood silently by. “Marin forgets herself,” Ilsa said slowly. “Before we assist you, I want assurances as to that other matter.”

His eyes rolled, and I felt the increasingly familiar urge to slap him. “I will see to it,” he said blandly.

“You will release our friend,” Ilsa stipulated, “and then we will deliver the ring.”

Something clenched in my stomach, but I didn’t dare ask who Oberon had captured, didn’t dare think of the growls I’d heard during my explorations, didn’t dare wonder who else he had locked away in this beautiful prison—or what he was doing to them.

Tension crackled in the room like that spark of foreign magic that lingered on my skin. It wouldn’t take much for it to ignite. I’d seen what a fae prince could do, and I had no doubt that as powerful as these witches might be, they couldn’t stand against him in the Otherworld, where his magic was at its strongest.

Annoyance rolled off him, but he waved a hand. “It’s a bargain.” He turned to the guard closest to him. “Go see that our witch guest finds her way back to her world, and remind her to stay there this time.”

My heart jumped into my throat. Another “guest.” Words were a game to him, twisting them to suit his narrative and his desires. He had played me when we first met. That hadn’t changed, but what other games was he playing now? A chill trickled down my spine.

“Happy?” he asked Ilsa before pointing at me. “Now do your part.”

Marin moved toward me again, but Ilsa stepped between us. “Allow me.” The younger witch frowned but fell back. Ilsa stretched out her palm but made no move to grab me as her companion had. “When you are ready.”

Oberon muttered under his breath, but she ignored him. I swallowed, yet the lump in my throat didn’t budge. Bracing myself for the shock, I closed my eyes and placed my hand in hers.