Once upon a time the king of the shadow fae was trapped in the mortal world, and a woman fell deeply in love with him . . .
My mother wasn’t just telling us bedtime stories. She was telling us her story.
“Oberon gave her a wind chime,” Mordeus continues. “He told her that if she ever needed him, all she had to do was hang it in the midnight breeze and the music would call him to her. She never forgot Oberon, but she was happy with her life in the mortal realm, with her husband and her daughters. Then one night while you all slept, your house was consumed by a terrible fire.”
I close my eyes, remembering. The heat. The crackle of the wood burning in the walls. The way my lungs burned as I tried to get enough air. The feel of Jasalyn in my arms. My father died in that fire, and we nearly did too.
“You girls were badly burned in the fire, but you had endured the worst of the injuries while protecting your sister, and you were barely hanging on. Your mother hung the chime and begged her old lover to help. It was Oberon who healed your sister and left her without a single scar. But your wounds were so profound that it was too late for even the greatest healer. My brother was blind with love for your mother.” Mordeus’s voice is filled with disgust. “He didn’t want her to suffer the heartbreak of losing her child, so he saved you with the only option available to him.”
I stare at the spot where Sebastian’s glamour still covers the scar on my wrist. It was the only mark from a fire I’ve always known should have killed me. “How did he do it?” I ask.
“The moment of your death, he surrendered his own life to save yours.”
I remember the sound of my mother pleading with the healer with the deep voice. Please save her.
How desperate she was, how heartbroken when she seemed to understand the price. I do this for you.
All these years, I’ve hated the fae, never knowing that their magic is the only reason I’m alive.
“What does that have to do with his crown?”
“When a Faerie king dies, he chooses which of his offspring will take his throne. When he makes that choice, his power passes to the heir, and it is only with that power that the land truly recognizes the new king or queen. But Oberon didn’t pass his power to a son or daughter. He gave it to you—it was the only way to save you, to heal you, and to protect your mother’s mortal heart.”
I brush my fingertips across my scalp, and this time I can feel it—not a physical object, but a hum of power, the vibration of the crown itself. It’s too much to take in. I can’t wrap my mind around the reality of it or the idea that a faerie—a male I would have assumed selfish and cruel—loved my mother so much that he died to save me.
But with the awe of the truth comes the pain of what he’s not saying. Mordeus is here telling me he needs the crown. Asking me for it. Which means that all this time when Finn pretended to help me, pretended to be my friend, his true purpose was to get closer to his crown.
“If you all want this crown so badly, why has no one taken it before now?” I’ve stayed at Finn’s—been injured and unconscious, even drugged. He’s had plenty of opportunity. “Why not just kill me for it?”
“The ancient kings who forged the Crown of Starlight had it spelled so that their offspring couldn’t kill them for their power. It can only be given, never taken, as my brother gave it to you.
“I cannot kill you for it, or the crown will refuse me. But you can choose to give it to me—your crown, your power. Understand me when I say that you will never know peace if you keep wearing the crown. But if you give it to me through a bonding ceremony, the crown will shift to me, and you will save your sister in the process.”
“Just . . . bond with you and it’s over?” A lifelong bond with the darkest, ugliest soul I’ve ever encountered. Never.
“Yes, my dear.”
The bonding ceremony—Sebastian warned me about it just last night when trying to convince me that Finn wanted to bind himself to me. A simple bonding ceremony, and he could take you away from me forever. He knew. He knew that Finn was really after the crown. No wonder he insisted that Finn wasn’t my friend.
But Sebastian wasn’t the only one who warned me against bonding with a member of the Unseelie Court. Finn warned me against bonding with Mordeus. Remember that the only way anyone can have it is if you allow it. If you value your mortal life, you won’t do that—ever.
It wasn’t a threat but a warning. A warning that neither prince could speak of directly because of the curse. But Finn also warned me not to bond with Sebastian. Because that would ruin Finn’s chances of bonding with me . . . or because Sebastian could steal the crown? But no, Mordeus said that only someone with Unseelie blood can rule here.