“What are you referring to?”

  “My clothes,” she says impatiently. “They’re mine. How did you get them here?”

  “I went and got them last night.”

  Her eyes widen. “You were in my house?”

  “It was easier than trying to shop when I didn’t know your size,” I say. “Although, now that I have it, I’m sending Chaya to get you a few more items today.”

  She glares. “You had no right to go through my things.”

  “Would you prefer I let you keep wearing the same blood-stained clothes day after day? Or the ill-fitting borrowed garments of my past guests?”

  I think of the robe. Actually, I thought of the robe throughout the night. I even checked her dresser at home for anything similar because I want nothing more than to strip her of any other clothing so she’s forced to wear only thin satin garments with short hemlines. But it’s not exactly practical for transport.

  She doesn’t answer.

  I keep my smile to myself, feeling like I’ve won a round.

  “We should get going,” I say. “The witch doesn’t take kindly to tardiness.”

  But she doesn’t move. “If it’s always dark here, how can you possibly know that it’s morning?”

  “We do keep time here,” I say, my brow rising.

  Her eyes narrow, and she changes the subject. “Why are you following me?”

  “We have plans.”

  “You have a plan. I didn’t agree to it.”

  “You are that afraid of touching me?”

  “I’m not afraid of you at all.”

  “Prove it then. Come with me to see the witch.”

  She glares at me, and I know my challenge won’t go unanswered. “Fine. But the moment my curse is gone, I’m leaving Tartarus. Without you.”

  “You can leave when the Crimson Roses are no longer after you.”

  Her brows lift. “Even if my curse isn’t gone?”

  “Of course. I only want you to be safe.”

  It’s a lie. I want so much more than that, but now’s not the time to negotiate those terms.

  She bites her lip, and I find myself completely fucking mesmerized by the sight of her mouth. “How do I know you’re not trying to lure me away to kill me?”

  My brow lifts. “I thought you were the one with that agenda.”

  She scowls.

  “Besides, I should think your poisoned skin is enough of a defense against anything I might try.”

  The list of what I might try is much more extensive than she knows.

  “You breathe fire,” she points out. “My skin won’t stop that.”

  “I guess that means you’ll have to trust me.”

  “Well, I don’t. Speaking of which, where’s Kendall? She promised to come with me and⁠—”

  “She won’t be joining us.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “This witch does nothing without payment. I’ve arranged for you and only you. If you bring Kendall into this, I can’t guarantee the witch won’t demand something of her in return.”

  Not to mention how fucking dangerous Tartarus is today. The moon fever isn’t the first impression I want to give her of this place, either. If I’d known it would affect me, I would have never bargained with the witch for today’s appointment.

  Tori bites her lip.

  I track the movement, completely distracted by it until she sighs and says, “Deal.”

  I gesture to the door at her back, pretending I’m not fighting the urge to press her against the stone wall and fuck her until she comes or I’m dead or both. “After you.”

  She pushes through the door into the moonlit morning. I follow her out then fall into step beside her, heading straight for the back terrace where a large open courtyard of pavers doubles as my launch pad.

  She casts me a sideways glance. “Don’t smile like that.”

  I start to deny it before realizing I am, in fact, smiling—sort of. It’s more of a smirk as my thoughts remain on the sight of her mouth and how I’d imagined it in the shower locked around my hard cock.

  I clear my throat, interested in where her thoughts have gone—or in anything that might distract me from my tenuous control. “Why not?”

  “You have an untrustworthy smile.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “You are so much more interesting than I expected.”

  She frowns. “What did you expect?”

  “A ruthless killer.”

  “I am a killer.”

  “No,” I say quietly, my thoughts taking a turn into darker territory. “You’re not. Not like I am.”

  “But I have killed people.”

  We reach the courtyard where the wind whips more sharply. I turn to face her, noting the stubborn set of her expression. It’s already become familiar to me, and I find myself wanting to reach out and trace my thumb over the way her mouth has pinched tight in determination.

  “Did your parents love each other?” I ask.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your parents. Did they love each other and use that love to create life?”

  “I guess. What does that have to do with⁠—”

  “I was birthed by a demon female who disguised herself as the lover of another creature and stole his seed. Hellfire and darkness are in my veins. My soul is tied to the underworld and my heart…” I hesitate, unwilling to give away my secret no matter how pure her intentions seem.

  She softens, and there’s a flash of pity in her blue eyes that has me clenching my fists. Pity is for the weak.

  “Your heart?” she asks softly.

  “It is dark and empty,” I snap. “I have wiped out entire armies, ended entire civilizations, with one breath of hellfire, and lost no sleep over it. Can you say the same?”

  She frowns, her expression hardening again. “No. That’s horrendous.”

  I don’t miss the judgment in her tone, and it hits me square in the chest, painfully sharp. Regret churns in my gut for having shared any of my past with someone like her.

  “You have nothing to fear from me touching you,” I tell her, angry though I can’t name why. Tempers are always shorter on the dual moons. “When the curse is lifted, I will return you to your world, and we will resume our separate lives.”

  She nods. “Fine.”

  I glance out at the open sky that rises to meet the edge of the courtyard. My thoughts and emotions churn, building toward a storm I can’t seem to calm. Not while I’m standing beside her.

  Whatever control I’d had earlier is strained to a thread now. The need to shift is overwhelming. Stupid fucking moons.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” I say, not bothering to look over. “I’ll get the witch and bring her here.”

  “What? Why? I thought⁠—”

  I don’t bother to explain. Even if I did, it wouldn’t make sense. She’s gotten to me in a way I don’t understand. “Stay here. I’ll return at the end of the day.”

  “The end of the day? Are you serious?”

  I stride toward the stone wall where the cliff’s edge offers a fast getaway. Behind me, Tori calls out, but I keep going, needing an escape before I completely lose my mind and do something stupid. Like touch her.

  When I reach the wall, I shrug out of my clothes and step up onto the ledge, calling my dragon forth. It is quick to respond, berating me for leaving her this way but no less willing to help me fly off into the darkness alone.

  Chapter 15

  Tori

  Legion’s mood swings leave me confused and pissed off. Not to mention his little comment about his past guests. How many other women has he brought home anyway? Ugh. Why does it even matter? Alone on the ledge, I stare out over the skies where I’d watched him shift into his massive dragon and soar out of sight. The wind is cold as shit up here, but it’s also beautiful the way the clouds seem to wrap themselves around the distant mountain peaks, their snowy caps reflecting in the moonlight.

  Both moons are completely full, their glow nearly as bright as a coming dawn. For a moment, I wonder what it would be like to live in a world of perpetual darkness. I’d always imagined Tartarus as some dark hell filled with evil and ugliness. But now, seeing the beauty of this place under a blanket of serene moonlight and twinkling stars, I have to admit I might have been wrong about this world.

  Turning away from the ledge, I wander the gardens, appreciating the vitality of the plants. Deep blue ferns and ivy the color of amethyst twinkle beneath the moonlight. It’s kind of amazing how a world plunged into permanent darkness has found a way to grow things. Their life force sings to my fae blood, though what echoes back at them from inside me is much darker than it’s ever been before. Here, I feel powerful.

  I feel safe.

  Finally, when my hands and nose are numb from the cold, I make my way back through the garden and into the Keep. The hall is still empty, the house still quiet. When I get to Kendall’s room, her door is open, and she’s not inside.

  Doubling back, it takes me several wrong turns to find my way downstairs and into the dining hall. Kendall is seated at the table in front of a plate piled high with pancakes.

  “Morning,” I say.

  “You’re up early,” Kendall offers.

  “Unfortunately, my wake-up call was not optional.”

  Her brow lifts, but before she can ask, I add, “Any chance I can get what you’re having?”

  “I’ll split it,” she says, grabbing an extra plate. I start to protest, but she says, “Chaya is nowhere to be found, and the cook was impatient to leave too.”

  “Cook?” I repeat. “How many people live here?”

  And why haven’t I put more effort into doing recon before now? I’m clearly losing my edge.

  “Three or four maybe? I don’t know. The others have kept to themselves.”

  “Do they all, like, work for him?”

  “No idea. The cook wasn’t exactly talkative this morning.”

  “Where’s the kitchen? I’ll make it myself.”

  “If you’d met the cook, you’d know that is not a good idea. Here.”

  She passes me a plate with half her pancakes, which I take gratefully. “Well, I guess it’s just you and me then.”

  “Where’s Legion?”

  “He left,” I say flatly.

  At her questioning look, I scowl down at my pancakes—which are delicious. Tartarus is really growing on me.

  “What do you mean he left?” Kendall asks.

  “First, he said we were going to see the witch but, then he changed his mind—and his mood, apparently—and left without me.”

  “When is he coming back?”

  “Tonight, I guess.” I take another bite of pancakes, knowing she’s about to launch an interrogation about what happened to make Legion leave. Questions I have no interest in answering. “How are you feeling today?”

  My question successfully derails her, but it also sends the mood spiraling.

  Kendall sets her fork down and picks up her juice but doesn’t drink it. My chest squeezes as the silence stretches.

  “Juniper would have loved this place,” she says at last.

  When she looks up at me, her eyes are shining with tears, but she’s smiling.

  I smile back. “She would,” I agree. “All the stone and natural elements are exactly her style.”

  “Last night, I could have sworn I felt her with me,” she admits.

  My smile fades, my mouth tightening with grief. “I’m sure you did. Her body might be gone, but her spirit isn’t.”

  She nods then takes a sip of juice. “What do you think Mom and Dad would say if they could see us now? In Tartarus of all places.”

  She’s changing the subject, but I let her. Besides, her question isn’t rhetorical. Kendall was so young when they died. I know it’s harder for her to remember them, so she relies on my stories.

  Putting aside the heaviness from before, I smirk. “Mom would have Legion eating out of her hand.”

  Kendall grins. “And Dad?”

  “Dad…” I shake my head.

  “What?”

  I meet her curious gaze, a new plan forming as I imagine exactly what my father, a dark fae poisoner, would do. “Dad would be getting prepared.”

  “Prepared for what?”

  “To go back and finish this.”

  “Tor,” Kendall starts.

  “Look, they’re not going to stop unless I stop them. And I refuse to hide forever. I will not live the rest of my life in exile.”

  Kendall grimaces, but she doesn’t argue. “What kind of preparation do you have in mind?”

  “I need supplies. My kind of supplies.”

  “You want poisons.”

  I nod. “You said there’s a village nearby. We could go see if they’re having the farmers market.”

  “Poisonous plants aren’t exactly your typical farmers market offering.”

  “Not in plain sight,” I say with a shrug. “You just have to know who to ask.”

  “And you know who to ask,” she says wryly.

  “Not yet. That’s why I’m bringing a fortune teller.”

  She snickers. “Well played.”

  “C’mon,” I say, “Maybe they have donuts.”

  Ten minutes later, Kendall and I are both at least a pound of pancakes heavier and headed out through the terrace gardens. My hands and face are covered, protecting Kendall and anyone else from my skin. Overhead, the double moons offer more than enough light to navigate, casting the flowering hedges in a happy glow.

  “Are you sure this is the best way out?” Kendall asks.

  Up ahead, the terraces begin to rise toward the edge of the cliff where Legion took off earlier. I glance around, suddenly feeling as if we’re not alone out here, but there’s no one else in sight.

  Kendall seems unaffected, so I force my paranoia to the side.

  “The front gate is locked,” I tell her. “But I saw a path back here earlier.”

  “And you don’t think Legion will care that we went out?”

  I catch myself before firing off a rant about autonomy and not giving in to the resident dragon like he’s some kind of prison warden. Instead, I say lightly, “We’ll bring him back a donut just in case.”

  Kendall grins.

  “Wow, this is beautiful,” she says, admiring the gardens as we walk.

  “Yeah, no poisons though,” I say wistfully. “This way.” Just before we reach the last terrace, I turn left. The path veers downward with small stone steps cut into the ground. It’s a sharply descending cutout, only wide enough for one of us at a time.

  At the bottom, there’s an iron gate where we pass through a narrow breach in the castle wall. On the other side, the stone pavers end, and the trail widens into a dirt path.

  Kendall falls into step beside me as we walk.

  I cast furtive glances toward the sky. Legion’s departure was tense and abrupt enough that I felt sure he’d stay gone a long while. But now that we’re out here, without leaving so much as a note in our absence, I’m suddenly hoping we’ll be back before Legion returns with his witch. He won’t be happy to find we’ve skipped out on him, and I don’t want to be close by when he realizes we’re gone.

  “This place is not what I expected at all,” Kendall says, and I turn my attention from the skies to the terrain.

  The mountainside is dotted with craggy rock formations interspersed with thick pines that press in on both sides of the dirt road. The scent of cold pine needles is refreshing, and the moonlight reflecting down at us offers a cozy blanket of peace. Or it would be peaceful if I wasn’t going to come home to a grumpy, obsessive dragon, risking his wrath in the process.

  “Look, a road,” Kendall says excitedly.

  I hurry to keep pace as she runs to the intersection ahead. Thanks to the trees, I can’t see around either corner. As I get near it, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  “Kendall, wait!”

  On our left, a brown bear rounds the edge of the trees. Its fur coat is mangy and missing in places like it’s been in a fight recently. Its yellow eyes glow in the low light, wild even for a shifter, and I watch as it scans the clearing with teeth already bared. Like it just wants to attack something.

  The moment it spots Kendall and me, it goes utterly still.

  I stand frozen as the moment stretches like time suspended. I want to call out that we’re not a threat, but something holds me back from making noise. Something about the animal is off.

  From somewhere farther away, a howl sounds.

  The bear flinches as if the howl woke it then opens its mouth and lets out a guttural roar. When it finishes, it starts running straight for my sister.

  “Kendall!” I race toward her and shove her aside at the last second. The bear’s claw catches my hip, and I’m sent to the ground as pain slashes through my side.

  When I look up, the bear is gnashing its teeth at me, its glowing eyes focused like a predator about to strike. I see a madness in its eyes—a lack of control that tells me there’s no stopping this thing, not short of killing it, anyway.

  “Tor,” Kendall says, her voice trembling with fear.

  “Don’t come any closer,” I tell her, scrambling to my feet. I wince at the pain that shoots through my left side when I walk but force myself to keep moving.

  The bear growls, facing us down with the confidence of a predator who knows it has cornered its prey. I try not to think about it. Instead, I focus on Kendall.

  “I’m going to draw it away from you,” I tell her. “When I do, run into the trees, and find one to climb.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Don’t worry about me. Climb, and don’t come down until I tell you.”

  “Tori, you can’t fight that thing.” Kendall’s voice shakes again, and my throat clogs with emotion I can’t afford to let myself feel right now.

  “I don’t need to fight it,” I tell her, forcing a confidence I don’t feel. “I only need to touch it, remember?” She doesn’t answer.

  The bear blows an exhale through its large nostrils. I bend my knees, preparing to sprint.

  “Get ready.”

  “I am,” she whispers.

  “Go!” I let out a roar, waving my hands and running toward the thing for about three paces.