I stormed into the throne room and screamed at the attendants to leave me alone. Even Baran, my father’s advisor, left without his usual snipe at my manners. “If you don’t want to claim me as your kin, just fucking say so, Father," I slammed my fist down on the table below him, the sharp pain helping me to focus through any glamor he might use against me. "But stop looking the other way as your lackeys try to murder my friends and me."

He didn’t answer right away, but I saw guilt flash across his eyes. I didn’t believe he’d called for the attack on me that Penelope had accidentally intercepted, but I was sure he knew or suspected who had.

“Our healers are doing everything they can to save your friend, Morgana,” he sighed. He looked older than he had three weeks before when I’d arrived. His shine had dulled, partly due to my refusal to accept his glamor. But, I had a feeling my troubles in Fairy were only the tip of the iceberg, and he’d been bearing the brunt of the political blowback of my existence.

“If I’d touched that ward, would I have survived?”

He shook his head, “no, your friend fared far better than you would have. The would-be assassin made it very powerful, but also very specific, likely to avoid hurting the servants.”

“Not because servants are valued, but because they were avoiding someone accidentally setting it off.” He nodded in agreement, then leaned forward in his seat, steepling his index fingers and resting his forehead on them.

I stood there, silent, and watched him rebuild himself, the soft glow slowly returning to his skin, then his golden robes. His hair, moments before just white, became a halo around his face, the length of his braid infused with the same magical glow as his skin and clothes.

“I am the king of Fairy, Morgana,” he began, his voice almost a growl of warning. “No one who I have granted safe passage is to be harmed in my home.”

“But…”

“No one, Daughter. Not you, not your friend. Whoever did this is going directly against my laws and the laws of my predecessors and will be punished.”

I climbed the steps and placed my hands on the armrests, staring down into his face. “Promise me, Father. Promise me that no matter who it is, they will be punished.”

He nodded, his jaw clenched, eyes cold. “You have been given much leeway, considering your long absence from Fairy, Morgana. But do not assume I will always be so patient with your lack of respect for our ways or my authority.”

His eyes went cold and dark, and goosebumps raised on my arms. I backed away enough to stand upright on the first stair in front of him, and dropped to one knee, the way Rosalind, my teacher, had shown me. "My apologies, Sire. I simply wish to be sure that when I return to the Outlands, I can assure the fae who live there that the law does indeed apply to the high fae equal to those of us who are not as…pure."

“You are princess Morgana, daughter of the storm king. My daughter. If I even hear a whisper that someone in my court has defied my decree, I will have them thrown in the pit.” He stood and placed his hand on my shoulder, the first time he’d touched me since his awkward and stilted hug upon my arrival to court.

“I’m taking Penelope with me, Father. Perhaps the shifters have healers who can bring her back to us. Please take me to her.”

He frowned and pursed his lips, then I felt the soft, warm glow of his glamor as he held my shoulders. I knew he was manipulating me, but I couldn’t help but feel Pen was better off in his care, under his watchful eye.

“You’ve never laid an eye on her, Father, give me a break.” I shook his hands off me. “Return my friend, or at least let me go to her.”

"I cannot be sure that she will survive outside the mound. Fairy itself saved her life, it may be only Fairy that keeps her alive as she sleeps." I sighed, but I understood what he was saying.

"Then for Goddess' sake just tell me that. Stop trying to manipulate me." I took a few steps away from him. Avoiding the nearness that allowed his glamor to overwhelm me. "Command your people to get her stable enough to move…please," I continued. "I will return for her, healed or no. I won't have her paying the price for my being here."

He’d told me that leaving me in the human world was best for me when I was small. But everything about this place told me that he’d hidden me away to make his political life simpler, to help people forget that somewhere in the world was a half-witch princess of Fairy that could one day taint their royal line with hybrid children.

Especially if Grayson has his way, I thought to myself, and it made the corners of my mouth turn up, despite my black mood and worries about Penelope. First, he’d moved me into his old apartment when he took over the alpha’s suite, then he’d tried to move me in with him. But he was neck deep in hopeful she-wolves and were-cats and one recently widowed golden were-bear, all of whom wanted their chance to sit in the throne next to his.

Of course, none of them seemed to care that he was trying to do away with the throne altogether. The only good thing about all the women who wanted Grayson's body was that none of them wanted me dead, just out of their way, which was still an improvement on the life I'd led with my aunt and the witches.

I stopped back in my room and made Millie promise to come and find me or send word if there was any change with Penelope, then went outside to call Grayson. The tears didn’t start until I felt the warmth of the sun on my face, and then I couldn’t stop the shaking and empty rage that filled me and spilled out my tear ducts and down my face. I knew better than to cry. After all the punishments and humiliation I’d endured as a kid, it amazed me that I still could. But I knew Fortunato was behind Penelope’s mysterious collapse, just like I knew he’d encouraged the duels and tried to cheat me to death, literally.

The next thing I knew, Grayson came into view as I scrubbed the tears from my face and wiped my running nose on my sleeve. Without a word he grabbed me and tugged me hard against him, the pounding of his heart thunderous in my ear.

"What happened. Who hurt you?" he demanded. His voice was even deeper listening to it through his ribcage, and I pressed my face into that heat and reveled in his immediate support.

“No one hurt me, Gray. Penelope was trying to help me out. She went into my room and crossed a ward that was meant to kill me, and only me.” I sniffed, a fresh batch of tears stinging my eyelids.

He stiffened, released me, and stepped back, horror painted across his face. “So, is Penelope going to be all right, then?”

"It didn't kill her." The sunshine had taken on an uncomfortable glare as a headache from my crying jag sprouted. "They won't let me see her, so I don't know if she's damaged, or disfigured…I hate them, Gray. I hate all of them right now."

He pressed his lips together and took my arm, leading me to the car where Niall waited, watching us. Gray's second in command was frowning, which made my heart ache more. Niall wasn't accustomed to the ugliness of the world the way I saw it or even the way Grayson did. He was a trust fund baby who just happened also to be sweet and generous. All he wanted was for every supernatural person to have safe passage in the world that he traversed with ease. And of course, lots of booze and cleavage to bury himself in.

He jumped out before I got to the vehicle and embraced me. “I heard you from here, I’m so sorry. How do we get her out of there?”

“I don’t know Niall. I need to speak to the alpha, but I hate leaving here. I don’t know what to do.”

He opened the passenger door for me, and a rush of cool air blew over me. "Come with us. Let's get ahead of these fae, Morgan. You know the alpha would love nothing better than to show them that we are a force to be reckoned with."

‘We' being shifters and misfits and hybrids like me. His words made me think of the way that the Goddess had reached out to me when I was alone in the park. "I think you're right, Niall. The magic inside the mansion has been twisted, forced. I think Fairy is suffering for it, and wild magic might make it right.”

They didn't speak to me all the way out to the park, but Gray made it in record time while I white-knuckled the door handle and worked to control my breathing. Even believing Pen was safe where she was, left me with a sour taste in my mouth, despite Gray's Formula One driving to distract me.

The sun was close to the horizon when we arrived, dipping behind the trees as we parked in the open grassy area already full of vehicles of every kind. The mouth-watering smells of barbeque mingled with acrid smoke from the bonfire and made my empty stomach complain loudly and I picked at the food set out on the long tables to quiet it. The wolf pack did fire right too, not too big, or too hot to get close to it, and not enough smoke to make your eyes water unless you stuck your face in it.

“Great fire, Carl,” I laughed as he handed me a melty graham and marshmallow sandwich, cheap chocolate scalding my fingers where it dripped. “No witch could do better.”

He tossed a burnt marshmallow from palm to palm before popping it in his mouth. “Sure, ‘cept I use flint and tinder for mine, and your kind probably shoots fire from their fingertips.”

I didn’t bother to refute it. Although fire wasn’t a power I’d mastered, some witches could. Then again, none of them had ever made a storm appear on a cloudless night, and never without a full coven. I looked up at the pink sky and felt the magic stir in me, whipping up a breeze as the wispy clouds began to gather. I released the magic like exhaling after holding your breath, and the breeze died off, the clouds wafting on their way.

“Shit, was that you, girl?” I winked at him but didn’t answer. He slapped his knee and motioned his son and wife over. “Did you feel that breeze? This little minx just did that without moving.”

Prescot, their only progeny, had been on me to do magic since I’d arrived. He at least eighteen, but Sheryl had mentioned that a recent injury had made him return to a childlike state of mind. They hoped the change would heal his brain injury, but he had yet to find his inner animal.

Enter Grayson and his hybrid exchange program. I wanted to see if the power I'd previously raised with our pack was due to our relationship, or if I could call any shifter's animal. Carl and Sheryl wanted their son back. If I could call his animal and use that additional power to bring wild magic back to Fairy, it would be a win for the pack and the coalition, and the beginning of a powerful true alliance. But I also didn't want to scare the rest of the pack and make them hate me for my power.

The music got louder as members of the pack started dancing, and it reminded me that Pen's singing would have been a great addition to the party. It was one of her talents as a siren, to heighten people's feelings of happiness or even fear. The same way she lured skips to her, she could make a party rock or bring an entire crowd to tears. I'd teased her before we left the bay area, that she'd missed her calling as an opera singer. She'd just arched an eyebrow at me, then rolled her eyes. The truth was, her job was exciting and gave her freedom. Freedom, my cousin, had stolen from her because she was my friend.

I wanted to cry again as I watched the embers fly, and Grayson found me and pulled me away from the fire into the cold night. "It's going to be okay, Morgan," he whispered in my ear as I cuddled into his side by the water.

The moon reflected off the ripples and broke into a hundred tiny mirror images, and each one seemed filled with power I could never touch. "I need to show you something, Gray. Tell me what you think of this." I rolled up my pants to show him the tattoo, the thin, spiraling lines dark against my pale skin.

He reached down to trace the tree, and the wolf flashed into the light and glowed softly, even after he jerked his hand away. "How did you do that?"

"I didn't," I mused, tracing the lines with my own finger, but the tattoo stayed dark at my touch. "They simply grabbed my ankle out here earlier, and when I burned them off me, this was left behind." My hand found the tense muscles of his thigh, and I touched him and my new body art at the same time, and the wolf flared to life again. "Amazing."

My heart raced at the prospect of new magic, and my pulse throbbed under Gray’s thumb as he slid it over my wrist, drawing me across him until I sat in his lap. “You are amazing, Morgan. Every time I think I’ve seen everything, you show me new magic and blow my mind again.”

I slid my leg over him and straddled his lap, my face buried in his neck as he wrapped his arms around me. “I know you said everything is going to be okay, but I feel guilty not being at Penelope’s bedside.”

"And if you were there, you'd have a target on you. I would've separated you too if I was in your father's position. He has Penelope under guard to prevent a repeat performance, and you're out here, safe from attack."

I scoffed and brushed my nose over his jawline. “Unless we get caught by that violent feral cat and get ourselves killed like a couple of teenagers at summer camp.”

"I knew that old horror movies date night was a bad idea." He caught my face in his hand and kissed my lips softly, his other hand tightening on my back, pressing me against him. He deepened the kiss, and I sank into him locking my ankles behind his back and tilting my head back so he could trail his perfect, full lips down my throat to my collarbone and below until he warmed the skin just above the neckline of my scoop-necked shirt.

His hands slid up my back, lifting my shirt and I shivered at the cool air on my skin and his whisper-soft touch, my mouth seeking his and devouring him. When I came up for air, his skin had already started to glow, and I knew if we escaped into the privacy of the cabin, we could make that glow as bright as the midday sun.

"I need you, Morgan, but I think we should get inside before we turn into the entertainment." As we'd started dating, I'd quickly learned that shifters had no concept of privacy. I nodded my agreement, still breathless from his kiss.

He lifted me off his lap like I was weightless and set me on my feet, leading me towards the cabin. We wound through the gyrating shifters gathered around the fire. Niall was with them, playing the part of visiting diplomat well as he led a conga-line of beautiful young females around the fire and through the partygoers in a figure eight.

I waved to him as we passed, and I caught his wink in the firelight just before he pulled another member of the pack to him. He seamlessly switched hands, so she was between him and the girl behind him. Before I could shout a warning, the guy she'd been laughing with drove his fist into Niall's face and the conga line shattered as the shifters formed a large circle around them.

“No. Oh hell no,” I called out as I pushed my way between two guys barely out of their teens. I rammed my shoulder into Niall’s arm, shoving him to one side and kept myself between them as the other man tried to get past me.

Grayson and Carl were right behind me. Gray put a hand on Niall's arm, and they spoke quietly. Carl grabbed his packmate and hissed something in his ear before spinning him around and into the hands of his waiting lieutenants.

“I think we’ve had enough party for tonight, Alpha,” Grayson’s voice was light, belying his tense muscles. “We’ll speak in the morning.”

He kept his hand on Niall’s shoulder and offered me his arm. We’re a team, his posture said, don’t fuck with him unless you’re ready for a fight. Carl's people parted before us like water, and we walked to the cabin, hyper-aware of fifty pairs of eyes on our backs the whole way.

As soon as the door closed behind us, the music was turned back up, and the party continued. Carl and Sheryl were lovely hosts, and eventually, I would do what I could for their son. But each new clash was just another reminder that none of us truly belonged here.