“You’re with the Court of Crimson now,” Tyr replied with a shrug. “By your own choice. Someone else needed to come.”
“It could’ve been someone else, anyone else. You don’t trust Adorra or Yvienne.”—Roan’s mother—“So, let me repeat my-fucking-self, brother,” I spat the word back at him, loathing its truth with every fiber of my being. “What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”
Tyr’s grin widened as the darkness that was my Midnight origins began to seep from my skin. It coated me, and if agony and hatred could have a scent, I would have smelled as if I were dipped in it. “Perhaps I am here on a familial errand,” he said, never losing that far too annoying grin of his. “Perhaps I am here to gain some intel—intel which you seem chock full of. Tell me something,” he said, sidling closer. He threw one arm over my shoulders, yet he was anything but brotherly as he leaned into my side and lowered his voice—whispering in my damn ear. “How many times have you fucked that Changeling of yours? Was it only once or have you had her on her back for weeks now? Is she any good? Care to share?”
My hand was around his throat and his back was against the stone wall before I’d even realized I’d moved. A feminine gasp at my back alerted me to the fact that we were not alone and had an audience. “You go near her, Tyr,” I said, leaning closer than he had before, “and I will slit your fucking throat while you sleep. Do you understand?”
Tyr’s eyes flashed red and this time, when he smiled, his teeth appeared razor sharp. That female gasp from a moment ago suddenly turned into a quick scurry as the maid or lady fled the scene of what would be a bloody crime of passionate rage if my brother kept it up.
“Do I smell a hint of possession in your tone, Little Ori?” Tyr’s hands came up and knocked mine away far too easily. He spun, kicking my ankles together and the only thing that saved me from making a crashing fall to the floor were my hands on the wall. I growled and pivoted to face him again only to be slammed into the very position he had previously been in, except instead of his hand on my throat, it was his forearm. He pushed it in and upward, snarling at me as he laughed. “Oh, I think I do!” he cackled.
Magic swirled in the air, thickening with the tint of doom. As members of the Court of Midnight and all of its power—ours was a magic of something to be truly feared. All of the stories human mothers told their little children at night of the cruel Faeries coming to steal them away or slay them in their beds … that had come from my home court. The very court that had sent me into battle at the tender age of twelve. No child should ever have to witness such death and destruction. No child should ever have to deal it out as I had—pillage and kill and plunder. My very soul—if there was anything left of it—was stained by those early years of my rearing. But unlike me, my brother—Tyr—had liked the pain he could deliver. He’d relished in the power of preying on people’s hatred and fear.
I brought my hand up and grasped his wrist, twisting until his forearm was removed from my throat. I released him almost as quickly and we were left standing, two feet apart, with opposing expressions. Him, smug. Me, dangerously close to a dark side I hadn’t unleashed in a long time.
“Cress is property of the Court of Crimson,” I said slowly. “My court, Tyr. Mine and my brothers—”
“I am your brother,” he interrupted.
“My throne brothers,” I clarified. “The men who rule at my side. The men whose sides I rule by. We are one and the same. You are an outsider. You are of the Court of Midnight and, though we are not at war with other courts, we are also not friends, you and I. Stay away from the Changeling, Tyr. If you know what’s good for you, you will stay far away from that girl. She is mine.” Ours, a small voice in my head echoed. Mine and Roan’s for sure … Sorrell’s … well, on that, I wasn’t all too sure. He stared at the Changeling as if he desired her as much as he hated her, but Sorrell was complex. Tyr wasn’t.
Tyr’s smug grin transformed into another cackling laugh. “You have fucked her!” he crowed. “My fucking Gods. She let you put your dick inside her. A girl like that—beautiful and—”
“Virginal,” I spat. “She was a virgin and I was her first, do you understand what that means?” I took another step closer, our chests nearly brushing against one another. I seethed. “I claim all rights to the girl.”
Tyr rolled his eyes. “Those are old, outdated traditions,” he said in a bored tone. “Just as the Changeling tradition is old and highly unusual.” He lifted a palm and scratched at the side of his jaw as his smile faded, and I realized how much I’d just fucked up. “How did you come across a Changeling?” he asked as I mentally cursed my anger and irrationality. “Her power pulses, but it’s weak. Are you sure she’s even all Fae? What if she’s a halfbreed?”
Now, I was the one to roll my eyes. “Those don’t exist,” I scoffed.
But Tyr’s expression remained serious. “Regardless of whether or not the Queens wish to admit or publicize the existence of halfbreeds, do you think the girl is one?”
“No,” I gritted out, shoulders tensing. “She’s Fae.”
He hummed. “The Changeling tradition is also very specific to a court that…”
“We are aware,” I barked, stopping him before he said the words.
Tyr dropped his hand with a smirk. “That makes her all the more intriguing, doesn’t it, brother?”
“Not to you,” I snapped.
“Oh, on the contrary,” he said, taking a step back and circling me. I pivoted to keep him from pacing behind me. I couldn’t and wouldn’t trust this man at my back. Never again. Not since he’d left me on the battlefield, surrounded by angry human warriors, simply because he’d been bored by the exercise. “I find the girl fascinating. You don’t want me to say it, I can see, but the Brightling Court was a strength to behold back in its day. Don’t think the Queens aren’t thinking it just because you don’t say it.”
Brightling. Cress. The threat to her grew by infinite leaps and bounds the longer he talked. “I will say this one last time,” I said through clenched teeth as Tyr finally came to a stop. “The girl is mine—she is of the Court of Crimson—and you will not touch her.”
“What if she asks me to?” he countered.
“She won’t,” I snapped. “Of that, you can be sure.”
With that, I turned and strode off. No, I thought to myself. Cress had been suitably warned. She trusted us and, therefore, she would obey us. She would not allow Tyr near her. And if she dared to break that, she’d find herself in for the spanking of a lifetime.
Chapter 18
Cress
I sighed as I stepped in front of one of the long mirrors that had been delivered to my room in the Court of Frost via the Pixie Express. Sorrell was going to be my attendant. Heh, I thought with amusement. I bet he’d hate every second of it. I stared at the frame of the mirror and then at the girl in its reflection. White-blonde hair swayed in uneven strands at my shoulders. My lips had been painted the darkest of blues in preparation for tonight. All I really wanted to do was return home.