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  For the ones who cannot be contained

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  The Heir & the Spare is set within the Of Flesh & Bone world. For the best reading experience, it should be read after book four of the series, What Sleeps Within the Cove, to fully understand the circumstances and characters that have led Fallon and Etan to where they will be in book five, What Roams Beneath the Stars. As such, The Heir & the Spare will contain major spoilers for the first three books in the series.

  The Of Flesh & Bone series is set in a medieval-style world where human women are subservient to their male counterparts. The world is a dark, dangerous place for women, particularly those who do not conform to societal standards and the purity culture that determines how they live.

  The Fae realm of Alfheimr is even darker, and the violence in this world gets darker and more graphic with each book. There is murder, torture, and elements of assault.

  As such, some elements may be triggering to certain readers. Please proceed with caution.

  Religious purity culture

  Verbal and physical abuse (NOT by the male lead)

  References to grooming behavior and assault of a minor by an authority figure (NOT by the male lead)

  References to past physical and sexual abuse

  Ritualistic sacrifices

  Suicide

  Suicidal thoughts and ideation

  Graphic death, violence, and torture

  Attempted sexual assault (NOT by the male lead)

  Graphic sexual content

  Flesh-eating creatures

  GLOSSARY

  Alfheimr: The Fae realm.

  Calfalls: The Ruined City that was once a tribute to the God of the Dead before he destroyed it in the war between the Fae and humans.

  High Priest/Priestess: The top Priest and Priestess, who profess to commune with The Father and The Mother and pass along their messages.

  Ineburn City: The capital of the human realm, a gleaming city of gold.

  Mistfell: The village at the edge of the Veil, where it is closest to Alfheimr. Serves as the access point between realms when the Veil does not block passage.

  Mist Guard: A separate army with the sole purpose of protecting the Veil from harm and fighting the Fae should it ever fall.

  New Gods: The Father and The Mother. Worshiped by humans after they discovered the truth that the Old Gods were truly Fae. The Father and The Mother make the choice of whether a soul goes to Valhalla, Folkvangr, or Helheim after the true death at the end of the thirteen-life cycle.

  Nothrek: The human realm.

  Old Gods: The Old Gods are the most powerful of the Fae race known as the Sidhe. Most commonly, these are the offspring of the Primordials.

  Priest/Priestess: The men and women who lead the Temple in service of the New Gods and their wishes (The Father and The Mother).

  Primordials: The first beings in all of creation. They do not have a human form by nature, though they can choose to take one for various reasons and are simply the personification of what they represent.

  Resistance, The: A secret society living in the tunnels of the Hollow Mountains (as well as elsewhere in Nothrek) that resist the rules of the Kingdom and live their lives as they please. They also resist the Fae and offer protection to the Fae Marked and other refugees fleeing the Royal or Mist Guard.

  Royal Guard: The army that works on behalf of the King of Nothrek, ensuring that the Kingdom remains peaceful and compliant with his wishes.

  Sidhe: The humanlike Fae who are not of the first generations and are less powerful than the Old Gods. Their magic exists, but is far more limited than their older counterparts.

  Veil: The magical boundary that separates the human realm of Nothrek from the Fae realm of Alfheimr.

  Viniculum: The physical symbol of the Fae Marked. Swirling ink in the color of the Fae’s home court extending from the hand to the shoulder/chest.

  Wild Hunt: The group of ghostlike Fae from the Shadow Court that are tasked with tracking down the Fae Marked to return them to their mates in Alfheimr, as well as hunting any who may be deemed enemies to the Fae.

  Witches: Immortal beings with powers relating to the elements and celestial bodies; i.e., the Shadow Witches, Lunar Witches, Natural Witches, Water Witches, etc.

  HIERARCHY OF THE GODS & FAE PRIMORDIALS

  Khaos: Primordial of the Void that existed before all creation

  Ilta: Primordial of the Night

  Edrus: Primordial of Darkness

  Zain: Primordial of the Sky

  Diell: Primordial of the Day

  Ubel: Primordial responsible for the prison of Tartarus

  Bryn: Primordial of Nature

  Oshun: Primordial of the Sea

  Gerwyn: Primordial of Love

  Aerwyna: Primordial of the Sea Creatures

  Tempest: Primordial of Storms

  Peri: Primordial of the Mountains

  Sauda: Primordial of Poisons

  Anke: Primordial of Compulsion

  Marat: Primordial of Light

  Eylam: Primordial of Time

  The Fates: Primordial of Destiny

  Ahimoth: Primordial of Impending Doom

  OLD GODS OF NOTE

  Aderyn: Goddess of the Harvest and Queen of the Autumn Court

  Alastor: King of the Winter Court and husband to Twyla before his death

  Caldris: God of the Dead

  Jonab: God of Changing Seasons. Killed during the First Fae War.

  Kahlo: God of Beasts and King of the Autumn Court

  Mab: Queen of the Shadow Court. Known mainly as the Queen of Air and Darkness. Sister to Rheaghan (King of the Summer Court).

  Rheaghan: God of the Sun and King of the Summer Court. Rightful King of the Seelie.

  Sephtis: God of the Underworld and King of the Shadow Court

  Shena: Goddess of Plant Life and Queen of the Spring Court

  Tiam: God of Youth and King of the Spring Court

  Twyla: Goddess of the Moon and Queen of the Winter Court. Rightful Queen of the Unseelie.

  The Wild Hunt

  Sidhe

  ONE

  ETAN

  It was never easy.

  I couldn’t imagine it was for any of us who were trapped within the confines of Mab’s court. I could only be grateful that she’d determined my greatest use to her was remaining in the Summer Court I called home. So many of us weren’t so lucky. So many of us were never gifted the opportunity to escape her violence and madness. Whereas I had only been present in Tar Mesa for a few days, others had been trapped here for decades—centuries even.

  I had lost count of the number of Fae I had watched Mab torture over my centuries of life as Rheaghan’s second-in-command. At some point, I’d become a hollow shell of the man I’d once been, strictly out of the need to survive. There was nothing I stood to gain by interfering in her games—nothing but the call of the final death and the freedom that would finally come with it.

  There were people who counted on me, and I’d told myself that my silence served the greater good. My willingness to make hard choices meant that the majority of my court could stay healthy and happy and as far away from Mab as possible.

  So why did the sight of Mab torturing her own daughter nearly drive me to do the one thing I had never risked?

  The Princess Maeve was a mess of bloody ribbons, her flesh torn open by Mab’s shadows. She’d been so determined to find out what sort of magic her daughter had at her disposal that it was clear any hopes we’d had for their reunification had been entirely foolish. There had been the smallest glimmer of hope that the love for her daughter would have been enough to peek through the madness and tame the worst of Mab’s impulses, but it seemed Maeve was just as subject to them as the rest of us.

  For her part, Maeve had never revealed what her mother wanted. The Princess was already a beautiful woman, with fair skin as if it had never seen the light and hair as dark as night. She was striking, an unusual but ethereal beauty, with wide-set hazel eyes and full, pouty lips. She’d braided her hair away from her face on one side in tight twists, revealing a deep scar that slashed from her forehead to her cheek and bisected her eyebrow.

  She looked the part of the warrior, and the defiance and determination she’d shown in refusing to display her magic to Mab only reinforced that—only made her all the more striking to behold. Her strength made me want to protect her, a completely unrealistic drive that ma
de no sense for the woman I had never even spoken to. Something in her called to me—convinced me that she was used to standing alone.

  Nobody should have to be alone.

  I’d refrained from interfering by clenching my hands into fists at my sides—reminding myself that Rheaghan needed me and the cover my alleged allegiance to Mab provided.

  She could barely walk by the time Mab was finished with her, attempting to draw out any source of magic and willing to use any means necessary to do so. The Queen of Air and Darkness’s desperation to have a daughter who could be used was tangible in the air, her disappointment when nothing came driving her to the point of rage. It was as if the sudden presence of her child actively worsened her madness instead of alleviating it.

  It did not help that Caldris’s mate had proven to be far more interesting than Mab had anticipated when she’d first taken her days prior, displaying magic that should have been so far beyond her reach as a human mate. I’d heard whispers over the years I’d spent spying on all of Mab’s faithful on Rheaghan’s behalf, the hushed murmurs spoken in shadows in an attempt to keep Mab from knowing of the second child that had been taken from Alfheimr and tucked out of reach in Nothrek with the Veil to protect her.

  I couldn’t say for sure if those whispers had ever reached her ears or if she remained entirely oblivious. The information wasn’t typically filed away as something critical to run to her with, given the rumorous nature of it at its core. To present information to Mab that proved to be false would draw unwanted attention to the messenger, and being caught in Mab’s crosshairs was not a position many wanted to risk. Many chose to take the odds of her never discovering their knowledge of the rumor if it came to fruition, but there was no winning in any situation where Mab was involved.

  There were very few of us who thought we could play games with her and come out alive on the other side. In spite of all of Rheaghan’s warnings, I couldn’t help but enjoy the calm, manipulative whispers that I murmured in the Queen’s ears to try to gain luxuries and freedoms for the people of the Summer Court that they might not have had if it hadn’t been for my interference.

  She was just as likely to punish them in her attempt to harm her brother as she was to reward them for their loyalty to her.

  Rheaghan cleared his throat, forcing me to snap out of the trance where I’d been staring at the Princess and lost in thought. “Don’t even think about it,” the King of the Summer Court said, and I turned my stare away from the breathtaking woman, who I realized, with a shock of discomfort, was his niece.

  Oops.

  I laughed, brushing my hand over the back of my neck as I searched for the words to argue that what she did, as a fully grown woman, was none of his business. Even for the Fae, who were more open in the lines of taboo and what relationships were forbidden, ogling your best friend’s niece was a little suspect.

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I said, shrugging my shoulders to feign casualness about the situation. Even if he didn’t want to think about it, which would have been even stranger than normal considering he had never met the woman before, he would find himself in the uncomfortable position of men admiring her.

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. Getting involved with Mab’s daughter would be the very definition of stupid. That’s not even touching on the awkwardness of me being obligated to beat your ass if you touch my niece,” Rheaghan said, arching a brow at me.

  “Maybe, but I’ve never claimed to be smart,” I said, grinning through the words as the King of the Summer Court hung his head forward and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

  “I would like to see you survive long enough to return home at the end of the Tithe. Call me selfish,” he snarked, but he knew as well as I did that the damage was done. Like so many others of our kind, particularly those from the Summer Court, where blood ran as hot as the desert plains that surrounded our seaside homes, I was not easily deterred from something after I set my mind to it, and I wanted to know Princess Maeve.

  Intimately.

  The Princess stumbled her way down the aisle of the throne room, making her way to the doors at the back as Devorin trailed behind her. The gown they’d put her in before returning her to the throne room was too long in the back, trailing behind her in a sea of black that matched her hair.

  Mab’s propensity for pomp and circumstance meant that I was used to seeing women in the finery that she demanded, gowns being the most common attire in Tar Mesa, but there was something about the way Maeve moved that signaled a discomfort with the garment.

  Wherever she’d lived, whatever life she’d come from, she wasn’t used to the feeling of a dress playing around at her ankles or the heeled shoes they’d put on her feet.

  I stepped forward from the shadows when she tripped on the dress, catching her by her forearms and keeping her from falling. Her blood slicked my hands, coating my palms in the places where Mab had bled her in an attempt to draw out her magic.

  She paused for a moment, letting me support her in what I knew was the first deep breath she’d taken since entering that throne room and facing down the woman she had probably come to dread meeting, despite their blood relation. When she finally raised her chin to meet my stare, something hard glittered behind her hazel eyes that reminded me of molten steel, of heat and flame that burned so hot it could destroy all that remained of the world that had been ravaged by Mab’s cruelty.

  I held her still, my mouth dropping open as we lingered for a moment, tuning out the noise and commotion of Mab’s court around us.

  “Princess Maeve,” I said finally, bowing my head forward in the sign of respect her mother would expect from me. Her jaw hardened to match her eyes, her nostrils flaring with annoyance.

  “My. Name. Is. Fallon,” she snapped, the ire in her voice tipping the corners of my mouth up into a smile. Many would have broken under Mab’s torturous hands, would have caved and given her anything she wanted, but this woman clung to all traces of her identity and rebelled against the control the Queen of Air and Darkness would try to exert over her life.

  Immediately, I knew Rheaghan and I needed to do whatever it took to free her from Tar Mesa and the direct influence of Mab in her daily life as quickly as possible. That rebellious spirit would be her downfall if she didn’t find the balance to prove herself useful to Mab. If Rheaghan and I left her here, we’d be condemning her to death.

  It may not happen the next day, or even the week after, but eventually that spirit would be crushed beneath Mab’s fist until death became a mercy. Rheaghan and Mab’s mother had practically raised me. Her memory deserved better than watching her lineage die.

  “Fallon,” I whispered as I turned to nod at her mother where she watched our interaction, offering Fallon my arm as I took my place beside her. She accepted it, even though it seemed like she may not, allowing me to lend my support as she gathered her dress in her free hand and tugged, tearing the fabric at her knees and tossing it to the side with a glare for Mab.

  I withheld my chuckle and my grin, impressing both Rheaghan and myself when he wasn’t able to stop the hoarse snort that he attempted to cover with his hand. She let me guide her forward, putting distance between us and the Queen, who would undoubtedly be angry at the torn gown.

  As if it weren’t already ruined by her daughter’s blood.

  Malachi, the sadistic bastard, took her other arm the moment we were out of Mab’s sight, guiding her away from me and toward the hall that would lead to the stairs and up to the rooms Mab had chosen for her. I watched her go as Rheaghan came up beside me, his hands stuffed into his trouser pockets.

  She took a few steps with Malachi’s assistance, his attention to her struggle reassuring me ever so slightly. He would keep her as safe as he could, from any threat outside of his precious Queen, because Fallon was the lost Princess that all of Tar Mesa had wished would return for the centuries since she’d disappeared in the night. But I didn’t know that the worship they had for her would last, now that we’d been faced with the reality that Mab cared very little for the woman we’d all hoped would tame her by giving her someone to love.