The Half Blood Book 5

I couldn’t have pictured a place like this, with glimmers of amber suspended in the air. The enchantment of the place seemed to caress my bare arms, as if testing my mettle.

The Court of Darkness, ruled by King Unseelie, could have been conceived differently—perhaps something grotesque like my brother’s realm, bleak and desolate.

But the King had opted for a display of unparalleled beauty, a beauty that testified to his own power, masking the inherent darkness.

The Unseelie King resided in a palace cloaked in black, adorned with amber figures that would occasionally illuminate as if kissed by sunlight.

I lifted my gaze, taking in the imposing spectacle before me. It was a testament to absolute supremacy, with its jagged towers reaching for the heavens.

I couldn’t spot any windows or doors from where I stood.

“Ready?”

Riathan’s hand found my waist, and we disappeared into the ether, reappearing inside the Unseelie King’s residence.

My eyes were captivated by the stunning interior. More sparkles danced in the air. I turned my head at the sound of doors creaking open.

A flurry of birds, each a different hue, burst forth from what seemed to be a verdant garden.

The multicolored birds swirled around me. I glanced at Riathan and noticed his furrowed brow. I wanted to ask him what was bothering him, but a familiar voice drew my attention.

“Sorana dear, it’s been a while.” Keya materialized before me, a sincere smile gracing her features.

“Keya.” I attempted to mirror her authenticity, but I must have failed, as her smile faded and her gaze flickered from my hair to my face.

The birds abruptly took flight, scattering throughout the room.

“What are they?”

“They’re spirits of darkness,” Keya answered. “Lord Riathan, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Lady Keya. How fares Ellisar?”

This was the first time I’d seen Riathan display anything less than hostility towards anyone outside his own kind.

“He awaits you, along with the King and the other lords.”

Riathan turned to me, his gaze assessing and suspicious. “Stay here.”

“I will, my Lord,” I responded in a submissive tone, hoping to placate his sudden sour mood.

Once Riathan had vanished, Keya turned her attention to me.

“I never would have guessed that Keya, the cook from Duskland, was actually a high fae of the Unseelie King’s Court,” I confessed.

“What have you done, demoness?” Her gaze was now fixed on my silver hair. “Wasn’t Duskland enough for you? What brings you to the Court of Tears?”

“Do you really think I wanted to go to Riathan’s Court, to stay with him?”

“Then why…”

“I didn’t have a choice, if that’s what you’re asking. He pursued me that night. The power of the arrow forced me to accompany him.”

“You’ve changed. I can see it in your eyes. I can sense the void within you.” Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized me.

“What have you done?” Her tone was tinged with disappointment. At another time, I might have cared.

I offered a half-smile and asked, “Do you live here with the King?”

“No,” she replied, taking my cue to shift the conversation. “My mate and I reside nearby, but separately. Only the King lives here.”

As I surveyed the room, small birds flitted among the amber specks floating in the air.

“This place is beautiful.”

I spotted an open door and began to approach it. The sound of the ocean reached my ears, stirring a peculiar sensation within me. Was it loneliness? Serenity?

Or perhaps it was sheer emptiness? I could see the sun retreating behind a veil of blue and gray clouds, its remaining light casting a glow on the fine, pink-tinged sand.

I yearned to move closer but halted when Keya cautioned me against proceeding.

“Remember, Sorana, things aren’t always as they seem. That place could be an eternal prison.”

I turned back to the picturesque beach. The idea of swimming in those waters began to take root in my mind.

Alone, bare, with the sun warming my face, floating and feeling the arms of the masked fae encircling my waist, holding me, claiming me with his mouth.

I shook my head abruptly, dispelling the thought. Why was I thinking about him? He was a nobody.

“Keya.”

At the sound of a raspier voice, I turned to see a woman about my height. Wrinkles framed her eyes, and her hair, once black, was now streaked with silver. Her brown eyes studied me.

“Sorcha.” Keya reached out, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to it.

I was taken aback by Keya’s show of deference. Sorcha’s gaze hardened as she caught my surprised expression.

Did she expect me to follow suit? To bow down to her?

“And who might you be?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the elderly woman.

Her reaction was hard to read, a mix of bitterness and amusement.

“Show some respect, demoness. This is Sorcha, the Unseelie kingdom’s seer.” Keya’s reprimand brought back memories of Duskland, where she’d played the role of a cook.

“And?” I retorted. I didn’t care who this woman was. If I hadn’t bowed to my own brother, the Demon King, I wasn’t about to start with this stranger.

“Don’t fret, Keya.” Sorcha’s voice was rough, reminiscent of humans I’d seen, their voices worn thin from years of smoking.

“The demoness is unfamiliar with our customs.”

“Does the Unseelie King kiss your hand too?” I asked, irked by her presumptuous attitude. She seemed to be peering into my soul, judging me with her faded eyes.

To my surprise, she burst into laughter. “He’s the King, dear. He wouldn’t kiss my hand even if I were his mother.”

“So, everyone else is expected to kiss your hand, except the King?”

“No, the Lords and their mates are exempt.”

I paused, mulling over her words. Her eyes twinkled, her gaze intense.

“Cat got your tongue?” Sorcha taunted, a smile playing on her lips. “Just as I predicted, you’re perfect.”

“What are you talking about?” Keya looked from Sorcha to me, confusion etched on her face.

Ignoring Keya, Sorcha said, “Come along, everyone’s waiting.”

“Waiting where?”

“Follow me, demoness.” Sorcha turned and headed towards a door I hadn’t noticed before. I was certain it hadn’t been there when I arrived.

“Sorana,” Keya called out. “Go with her.”

Sorcha was waiting at the door. Without a word, I followed her into a more secluded room.

The room was grand, with a high arched ceiling and large amber chandeliers. Plush sofas were arranged at one end, facing each other.

A black table with several high-backed chairs was positioned near the wall. Several faces turned to look at me.

“Now that you’re done gawking, we can begin,” Sorcha announced.

“Sorana, how have you been?” The familiar voice of Kian, or rather King Unseelie, came from behind me.

I turned to face him, feeling nothing. My deal with the Sirens was working. The insecurity I used to feel around Kian in Duskland was gone.

“So, it’s true…” His amber eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’ve changed. But of course, you wouldn’t notice.”

I frowned, not understanding his cryptic words. Notice what?

“Shall we begin?” The King gestured towards an empty seat at the table.

Once we were all seated, I found myself studying each face.

Riathan sat with a sour expression, his gaze fixed on the King. Beside him sat another man, equally handsome with short, dark hair.

His eyes were striking, a blend of dark green and gold, reminiscent of a predatory feline.

Across from him sat another Lord, his face adorned with intricate rune tattoos that extended up to his temples.

His hair fell past his shoulders, and his pointed ears were a clear sign of his fae heritage. But it was his eyes that were most unsettling. They were a crystal blue, cold and vacant, much like my own.

He sat rigidly in his chair, his white jacket adorned with black patterns, his gaze unfocused.

The door opened, drawing my attention to the two men who entered. The first had brown eyes and thin lips, his hair a shade lighter than the others.

Beside him walked the Lord of the Court of Fears.