How hard is it to fight a warrior king without the use of glamour?

Really freaking hard.

The bastard dared me to train with him. And if that sounds vague, that’s because he meant it to be.

I don’t know what I’m doing, why I’m doing it, or how long I’ll be doing it for. All I know is that hours ago Des gave me leathers and a sword, and ever since then, he’s been systematically nicking those training leathers and swiping my sword out of my hand.

Above us, little orbs of light—fairy lights—glitter from the trees arching over the royal courtyard that’s doubling as our training grounds. They hover over the gurgling fountain and dot the hedges that surround us. Beyond them, the stars shine like diamonds, brighter and denser than any I’ve seen on earth.

“Lift your elbow,” Des says for the millionth time, snapping me back to attention. This is just one of his many instructions …

“The strike must start from your shoulder. The arm is merely the follow through.”

“Keep your center of gravity steady. Nothing but a deathblow should make you lose your balance.”

“Fleet-footed, Callie. What you don’t have in girth you must make up for in speed.”

“Your wings are an asset, not a liability. Don’t let them slow you down.”

Des comes at me again, and if I wasn’t already intimidated by his experience, I would be by the predatory glint in his eye. That’s only a good look on him when he’s about to sully me. Otherwise, it’s plain terrifying.

I weakly block one of his strikes then scramble back. The Bargainer follows, a slight grin on his lips—like this is actually enjoyable.

Gah, training sucks balls.

Big ones.

“Why … why are we doing this again?” I gasp out.

“You know why.” He rolls his wrist, swinging his sword around.

Meanwhile, I’m over here, still panting like a dog. “That’s … not an answer.”

“Your one weapon—your glamour—doesn’t work here in the Otherworld,” he says, continuing to advance. “No mate of mine will be defenseless.”

Finally an answer, and damnit, it’s a good answer. I don’t want to be defenseless either. If only training wasn’t so bruising, both for my body and my ego.

“How long … will this … task last?” I ask, panting as I shuffle away from him. It feels like it’s been days since we started.

“You told me you wanted to be someone’s nightmare.” Des says. “I’ll stop training you once you feel you are.”

Teach me again how to be someone’s nightmare. I remember the words I said only days ago. I hadn’t imagined they’d lead to this.

… And then the rest of what he’s saying registers.

“Wait.” I stop backing up. “You mean to tell me this task isn’t over when we stop today?”

Des rushes me, his blade striking mine with the force of an anvil. For the hundredth time, my sword clatters to the ground.

And once again, I get trounced.

The edge of the Bargainer’s blade finds my throat a moment later. The two of us stare at each other from across it.

“No, cherub,” he says. “This is just day one of the task.”

Damn it all to hell.

“I hate training.” The skin of my neck brushes the edge of Des’s sword as I speak.

“If it were fun, more people would do it,” he responds.

I raise my eyebrows. “Celibacy isn’t all that fun either, but perhaps it would do you some good,” I say tartly.

His expression brightens with excitement. Only this crazy fairy would find the threat thrilling. “Is that—?”

Someone behind me clears his throat. “Is now a bad time to introduce myself?”

I jolt at the new voice, and only Des’s quick movements prevent me from slicing my neck on his weapon. He drops his sword and reluctantly tears his eyes from mine.

I swivel around, noticing the outline of a man a few feet away from us, his body cast mostly in shadows.

Next to me, the Bargainer slides his sword into its scabbard. “You’re timing is apt as ever, Malaki.”

The fairy steps out of the shadows.

The first thing I notice is the man’s staggering frame. He and Des are nearly the same height, and like Des, he seems to be made entirely of muscle.

Seriously, what do they feed these guys? I thought fairies were supposed to be lithe.

The second thing I notice is the eyepatch covering his left eye. That’s just not something you see on earth. Peeking out from the edges of the eyepatch is a thin, deep scar that bisects his eyebrow and cuts into his cheek. His skin is a deep olive color, made all the more striking against his deep brown hair.

“I thought I might be interrupting something—at least, until the lady mentioned celibacy.” The man, Malaki, laughs as he approaches, something that causes Des’s mouth to quirk. “How the mighty king is finally being brought to his knees.”

Malaki’s gaze moves from Des to me, and I see his stride falter as his eyes flick over me.

“No wonder you’ve been hiding her,” he says, stopping in front of us.

I glance between the two men, not sure whether I should be offended or not. I’m suddenly, painfully aware of my wings. The training leathers I’m sweating through don’t help either.

“He hasn’t been hiding me,” I say.

Self-conscious or not, I haven’t come all this way to allow someone to make me feel bad about myself.

But based on the way Malaki continues to stare at me—not like I’m a freak, but like I’m a fascinating oil painting—I realize that maybe I let my own insecurities get the better of me. Perhaps a man with an eye patch wouldn’t immediately think to degrade another’s appearance.

Maybe his words were actually meant to be a compliment. How shocking.

“Callie,” the Bargainer say, “this is Malaki, Lord of Dreams, my oldest friend.”

Friend? My attention turns to Des, whose expression is guarded. How had I not realized that Des had friends? Everybody has friends. I’ve just never heard about his.

Not for the first time, I feel like the man next to me is a mirage. I’ve been so sure I’ve been seeing him clearly this whole time, but the closer I get, the less apparent that becomes.

“Malaki,” Des continues, his eyes lingering on me for an extra second, like he can hear exactly what I’m thinking, “this is Callypso, my mate.”

I get the distinct impression Malaki wants to pull me in for a hug, but instead he takes my hand. “I’ve been waiting centuries to meet you,” he says, bowing deep enough to press his forehead to the back of my hand.

His words cut through all my jumbled thoughts.

I give him a quizzical look once he straightens. “Centuries?”

He glances at the Bargainer. “You haven’t told her—?”

“Malaki,” Des cuts in, “what is so pressing that you had to interrupt our training?”

“He hasn’t told me what?” I ask Malaki.

Malaki flashes Des a wolfish grin. “Oh, this is going to be fun, I can already tell.” The fairy begins to back away. “Desmond, you have urgent business in the throne room.”

The King of the Night nods, his attention moving to me.

“I’ll be there in five,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. “Bring in a chair for Callypso. She’ll be joining us.”

Joining Des? In his throne room? In front of other fairies?

Oh hell no.

I put my hands up in protest. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—”

I feel magic settle over me for the second time today, and I know without checking that the Bargainer took another bead.

“The time for hiding is over.”