Bree heard the sounds of the ball far before they ever reached it. While the feast had been full of a constant murmur, the ball was a far more lively affair. Music drifted down the hallway, shot through with shouts and sounds of pure glee. Bree pressed her hands against her dress, trying to push away the nerves. She’d gone as someone else when she’d gone to the feast, but now, she was going as all Bree.

“Do not be nervous,” Dagen said with a smile. “No one will take a shot at you while you are with me.”

Bree raised an eyebrow. “Except for the Prince.”

“He would not dare.”

When they strode through the tall towering archway, Bree gasped and tightened her hand on Dagen’s arm. The ball was a nightmare. Every fae in the room wore twisted, gruesome masks that resembled monsters from the depths of hell. Horns protruded from their heads, curling and menacing. And their eyes...so many of them had red eyes.

Bree swallowed hard.

“Ah.” Dagen flashed her a smile. “I should have warned you. This is one of our many masked balls. There is a prize for the fae who wears the most terrifying ensemble. The horns, however, are real.”

Bree blinked, her gut churning. The fae before her were terrifying to behold. It had been easy to forget exactly what they were, seeing only the gentler side of their forms. In their daily lives, these fae did not wear their horns, and their eyes did not glow red. But they were the Dark Fae. The demons of the three realms that were inexplicably linked together. And Bree was living among them.

“I’m having second thoughts...” Bree said, trailing off as a tall fae strode by with bloodstained horns. She shuddered to think about what that might mean.

“There is no need to be frightened,” Dagen said. “They have all seen you arrive with me. They will leave you alone unless you do something to provoke them. Now, go on. Mingle. Find out what you can. They are far too involved in the drink and the dance to pay you any mind. Well, except for him.”

Bree followed Dagen’s gaze. Indeed, the Prince’s eyes were locked on Bree with a tense strange kind of smile pasted on his face. He wasn’t wearing a mask, but a silver pair of horns protruded from his skull. Bree stared at them, mesmerized by the way they twisted and turned, locking together at the very ends.

“It seems he is taken by your beauty as much as I am.” Dagen gave Bree a tight smile. “In fact, I am tempted to keep you by my side. Go on before I change my mind.”

Bree slid her hand out from the crook of Dagen’s arm and felt lost and adrift immediately. He took a step back, giving her a strange smile before turning and disappearing into the crowd. Her heart hammered. She was truly alone in the midst of all these Dark Fae with only her wits to keep her grounded in reality.

Someone passed by and pressed a drink into her hands, something she was immensely grateful for. She dropped back her head and tipped the sweet liquid down her throat. Immediately, a new boldness took over her body.

Time to spy for all she was worth.

But suddenly, he was there. Prince Taveon caught her arm, his grip going tight around her wrist. Her footsteps paused, and her heart trembled in her chest. He looked...angry. Not that she was surprised. She knew the risk she’d taken in coming here, even as Lord Dagen’s guest.

“What are you doing here, Bree?” he asked in a low growl. All around them, the ball continued on like nothing strange at all was happening, though she swore their exchange had caught a few curious glances.

Would he try to punish her for this? No, he couldn’t. It would be sending the wrong message to the previous Hand of the King. Any move made against her would be a move made against Lord Dagen.

She gave him a pleasant smile, though she pulled against his grip on her arm. He didn’t let go. “Lord Dagen invited me to come as his companion. Don’t worry. I’m not going around and blabbing to everyone about who I am and why I’m here. I know you like to keep your secrets.”

“You should not be here, Bree.”

“He came up with a clever story,” she continued as if he hadn’t said a word. “I am his aide, a scholar whose speciality lies in knowledge about the human realm.”

The scowl on his face didn’t lessen even the slightest. “And you should certainly not be here with Lord Dagen.”

Bree swallowed hard, but she refused to back down. “Maybe I wouldn’t have had to come with him if someone else had invited me to attend.”

“There is a reason I did not invite you. It is dangerous for you to be here.” With a heavy sigh, he finally dropped her arm, but the intensity of his gaze didn’t waver. “I will allow you to stay. For now. But stay out of trouble and keep your mouth shut. I will not hesitate to throw you over my shoulder and toss you right back into your quarters if need be.”

And with that, he spun away to speak to his next guest, though the electricity of his presence remained with her. At times like these, Bree could see past his calm exterior to the angry Dark Fae beneath. He liked to pretend he was not like his father, but there were elements of him there. He wouldn’t have lied in order to get her to be his slave if there wasn’t. He wouldn’t have had her shot in the chest. And these were all facts she needed to remember. She couldn’t let herself forget what he was. She couldn’t let her guard down, not with him.

So, she spun through the room. Conversations drifted to her from here and there, filling up her head with voices and words that all began to blend together. Drink after drink was placed in her hands, and she drank the sweet liquid eagerly. After a time, she realized that hours had passed by, and she hadn’t seen Lord Dagen since she’d arrived.

Where had her companion gone?

Oh, Bree. What a silly thought. Lord Dagen isn’t your companion. He brought you here to spy for him, not to hang on his arm and dance.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed several members of the Court whisper away behind the curtain. Bree’s curiosity was immediately piqued. Where were they going? She followed after them and ducked behind the curtain, finding a long dark corridor stretching out before her. The laughing fae vanished into the nearest door, but that wasn’t the thing that caught Bree’s attention. Instead, her gaze was focused on what lay beyond. The door at the very end of the hallway.

Just above the door hung a tapestry etched with a pair of bright red wings, the symbol of Prince Taveon.

Were those his quarters? Was that where he lived and slept and spent his days scowling?

She had to find out. Maybe there would be something in there that would help Lord Dagen. Maybe his secrets lay hidden inside.

Of course the door was locked when she reached it, but she knew a thing or two about picking locks from her time spent in New York. She grabbed a couple of pins from her hair, jammed them in the lock, and smiled when a resounding click met her ears.

And then she was inside.

She slipped into the room and closed the door quietly behind her, her heartbeat hammering in her chest. A fire flickered in the nearest corner, illuminating the room that spread out wide on either side. It had floor-to-ceiling windows that stretched across the entire length of the furthest wall, facing the bulbous moon that glowed so brightly it took Bree’s breath away.

Deep red carpets stretched out across the stone floors, softening the harsh features of the castle. There was a desk, covered in parchment, as well as a globe that looked suspiciously like the one for the human realm. Just beyond the desk, there was a cluster of sofas and armchairs, hunkered around the fire. Hundreds of books lined the walls. It was a beautiful room. So beautiful that it did not look like it should belong in this cold, hard place.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” a voice slithered into Bree’s ear from behind her. She froze, breath held tight in her throat, heart thundering so loud that it drowned out the merriment of the ball.

Slowly, Bree swivelled to face one of those horned fae, his face covered by a mask painted in deep crimson whorls. She swallowed hard as her gaze flicked across him. His jacket matched his mask, and a dangerously sharp sword hung from his waist, the hilt carved into a lion’s gaping jaw. The sharp teeth glittered underneath the dancing firelight.

“Oh.” She gave him a timid smile. “I guess I got lost. I was looking for the...” What did they call it here? A restroom? Bree had a sneaking suspicion that they called it anything but that. She cleared her throat. “Bathing chambers?”

He let out a low chuckle, leaning forward to prop one hand on the wall behind her, and he leaned in close. “For a spy, you are awfully terrible at lying. And you seem to have a strange vocabulary.”

Her eyes widened just a fraction. “What are you talking about? I am Lord Dagen’s aide. I am assisting him in—”

“Spare me the half-cocked story.” His glittering smile widened. “I know Dagen well. He does not care about humans. What he cares about is that crown. And you, his supposed aide, has now been caught poking around where she shouldn’t be.”

“Honestly, you are mistaken.” Her voice slightly trembled, something Bree desperately hoped this strange fae wouldn’t notice.

He lifted an eyebrow. “I wonder what Prince Taveon would think, if he knew that you were in here. Do not think your little scene together escaped everyone’s notice. He is not even happy his little slave is at the ball.”

Bree bristled. She hated being called a slave, even if that was what she was. She opened her mouth to bark out a retort, but voices drifted toward them. Bree recognized them immediately because she’d heard them once before. Two of Prince Taveon’s council members, though not Lord Dagen or Seath. These two were the ones who were loyal to the Prince, and they knew exactly who she was.

And they were about to discover her snooping around in the Prince’s chambers.

A strange smile flickered across the fae’s lips. “Looks like Conlan and Branok are in for a show.”

“Please don’t,” she whispered as their footsteps grew ever closer.

But Bree didn’t have a chance to beg and plead. Instead, the strange fae male wrapped his arms around her back, pulled her close, and planted a hungry kiss on her lips. Her eyes widened in shock, her entire body trembling.

What the hell was he doing?!

The strength of him held her close, though she didn’t try to push him away. She stood frozen to the spot, a million different emotions pouring through her at once.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured against her lips. “Relax. Make it real.”

Oh. Realization dawned in her mind, and she understood immediately. So, she followed his orders and closed her eyes. Still, it was impossible to relax, not when his corded body pressed so tightly against hers. The scent of him filled her head: a heady mixture of smoke and fire and musk. Everything about him screamed danger. Danger and delicious power. And strength.

His lips were softer than she would have guessed and gentle in the way they pressed against hers. They began to move against her mouth, and his tongue darted in through her parted lips. A gasp escaped her throat, and a thrill went down her spine. Nope, there was definitely no relaxing in this situation. She had a strange, terrifying fae’s kiss on her lips, and even crazier was that she actually liked it.

His hand found her cheek, and he caressed her chin with his thumb.

Her entire body melted from just that one touch. Bree had never been kissed like this before, even if it was all some sort of show. Even if it wasn’t real.

A throat cleared as the footsteps stopped only inches from where the two of them stood curled up in each other’s embrace. Bree pulled back, her face flushed and her breath ragged. She couldn’t bear to look at Conlan or Branok. Hell, she couldn’t bear to look at anyone.

“Fillan,” Branok’s voice was sharp, disapproving. “What are you doing in the Prince’s chambers? And with her?”

Bree glanced up in just enough time to catch the smug grin on Fillan’s face. “I believe you just witnessed what I was doing in here with her.”

“This is highly inappropriate.” Conlan frowned. “She is Prince Taveon’s—”

Conlan cut himself off, as if realizing what he was about to say and to whom. That was interesting. So, Fillan hadn’t been let in on the little secret. To him, she should be no one more than Dagen’s aide. But he’d found her out. How? And who was he to Prince Taveon? Why had he wanted to save her from getting caught?

“Is Prince Taveon courting her?” Fillan furrowed his brows in mock confusion. “My apologies. I was not made aware of that. She seemed to be attached to Dagen’s arm when she arrived, not the Prince’s.”

Conlan and Branok exchanged a glance, but they said nothing to correct Fillan’s assumption. Not that he believed in his assumption any more than anyone else did. But they didn’t know that. And they obviously didn’t want this fae to know the truth.

“You should both return to the Great Hall,” Branok finally said, casting a sharp glance at Bree. A warning. “Do not let us catch you in the Prince’s private chambers again. And Fillan? It would be wise for you to choose another fae to be your paramour.”

* * *

Bree’s cheeks were still a terrible shade of red when she strode back into the Great Hall. Fillan had said a hasty goodbye and had disappeared down the opposite end of the corridor faster than she’d been able to blink. She didn’t know why she’d expected anything else. Their kiss—while exhilarating—had only been meant as a cover for the truth.

But she had questions. So many questions. Who was he? Why had he helped her? And why had he been poking around in the Prince’s quarters himself? Was he one of Lord Dagen’s other spies?

She glanced around the ball, from the massive horns to the colorful displays of masks. In the throng, she couldn’t spot Lord Dagen. The Prince was also nowhere to be seen. She frowned. Where had they all gone? And did it have anything to do with where Fillan had disappeared to as well? Surely they weren’t all together. Not unless the Prince had called together a council meeting, though that would be a strange request during the middle of a ball.

Out of the corner of her eye, the tall masculine form of the Prince caught her attention. He strode out from behind a thick set of crimson curtains and stood tall on a golden dais. Immediately, the entire room fell into a hush.

Bree’s heart clenched tight, and she felt herself drawn toward the powerful fae.

“I would like to thank the entire Court for joining us in the celebration of this year’s Silver Moon. Unfortunately, I must share some grave news at this time, as some unfortunate events have changed our realm forever.” He lifted his chin. “I know you are all wondering where my father is, our esteemed King who has led us through centuries of wealth and power. It is with great regret that I announce his passing, at the hands of a Breking in the realm of the Light Fae. I was there to witness this fight. He fought bravely, but he fell against the beast’s vicious fangs.”

The entire room was silent and still, every single fae gazing up at the Prince with a mixture of shock and confusion written across their faces. Though, Bree couldn’t help but notice, some looked jubilant by the news.

“We will be giving him a proper funeral in the coming days.” He cleared his throat. “I would also like to formally announce my intention to follow in my father’s footsteps at the next Battle for the Crown. Thank you all.”

And with that, the Prince turned and disappeared back through the crimson curtains. A million voices rose up at once, building into a deafening crescendo. Bree got swept up in the crowd as they shifted through the room with a newfound frenzy. The ball had descended into chaos.