Brave

After the somewhat creepy conversation with Faye, I tried to find Ren because I was more than ready for round two of our argument. I knew I’d hurt him the night before, but that didn’t change the fact he had absolutely no right to try to tell me what I could do.

Unfortunately, he was missing in action, which was disappointing because it made me want to yell at him more.

I liked yelling at him, actually. It made me feel . . . normal. And that was kind of messed up, but whatever.

Since he was nowhere to be found, I did the next best thing. I headed to the gym, but I didn’t go into the room with the treadmills. I went for the smaller room, the one with thick mats covering the floor and a punching bag.

That’s where I spent the rest of the day, going through old training sessions with myself, like I was sixteen again. A few months ago, I would’ve balked at the notion that I needed to practice evasive techniques or groundwork, but I knew better now. I needed all the practice I could get, especially if I planned on facing the Winter Prince again.

It would’ve been nice to have a partner though.

I moved on to the punching bag, working with the iron dagger. I didn’t jab as hard as I could, because I doubted the fae here would’ve appreciated a bag full of cuts, but I picked up speed as the now too familiar sensation simmered to life in my stomach. It reminded me of gnawing hunger, but it was a craving, the same kind I imagined an addict went through. It was nowhere near as bad as it had been before, but it was still there, a shadow inside me.

Sweat was dripping into my eyes when the door opened and a burst of fresh air entered the room. Yanking the blade out of the bag, I spun around and saw Brighton.

She was standing just inside the door, one hand curled around the ends of her ponytail. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay.” Swiping an arm over my forehead, I sheathed the dagger. “What’s up?”

“I was just roaming around. Saw that you were in here.” She nodded at the small window in the door. “I haven’t seen you since . . . well, since you were attacked. You seem to be doing well.”

“I am. I would say I’m lucky, but I guess being part fae is why I’m okay.” Those words rolled off my tongue easier than I thought they ever would. “The whole feeding thing saved my life.”

“That’s what I heard. Mind if I sit or is it a distraction?”

“Sit.” I shrugged. “I’m done anyway.”

She pulled out one of the middle chairs and unfolded it. “How are you handling everything? The whole feeding thing?”

I started to tell her that I was doing fine, but that’s not what I said. “I honestly don’t know.” I walked over to where she sat. “I mean, I’m happy to be alive, but knowing what I did to be here doesn’t sit right.”

She looked up at me. “I can understand that.”

Looking away, I bit down on my lip. “Do you know what Ren and Tink did?”

There was a beat of silence. “I heard they made Faye use a compulsion on you.”

“They did. I was so angry with them, but. . . .”

“You’re not anymore?”

“I still am.” Exhaling roughly, I sat down on the mat in front of her. “And I’m also not. I get why they did it. I appreciate it, but I’m not okay with it.”

She folded her arms in her lap. “I guess the question is, can you forgive them?”

“I already have,” I said, and that was the God’s honest truth. “I kind of had to, you know? Because I would’ve done the same thing to save them.”

A faint smile pulled at Brighton’s lips. “Well, I’m glad you’re still alive.”

I wondered if her mom truly felt the same. Then again, it really didn’t matter. “Me too. Anyway.” I leaned back on my hands. “Did you hear anything about our visitors?”

Brighton widened her eyes as she nodded. “Yeah. Freaking unbelievable. Another prince? And halfling?” Her shoulders tightened. “The fucking Order has lied to us from day one.”

I couldn’t help it. I squelched a laugh, but she cursed, and I couldn’t remember hearing her curse before.

“I mean, nearly everything we thought to be true turned out not to be.” Her lips thinned. “What else do we think we know that isn’t true?”

“God. It could be anything. But there has to be a reason why they didn’t tell us about the Summer fae or the royal courts.” I stretched out my legs. “And does the Order even know the Prince has left?”

“I have no clue, and at this point, it’s a risk to even reach out to them and find out.” She sat back. “But we’re going to have to. Once we get the Crystal, we’ll need their help opening the gates.”

“Or we kill the Prince.” I ignored her gasp of surprise. “We’d probably need the Order for that too, considering we’d need all the help we can get.”

Brighton then pointed out the obvious. “Killing the Prince is almost impossible.”

“Almost impossible,” I stressed. “He has to have a weakness other than having an ego, and the Summer Prince knows what weakens them.” I wrinkled my nose. “I kind of understand why he wouldn’t be so forthcoming with that info, but if we can weaken him, we can probably kill him.”

She appeared to consider that. ‘Then we just have the other princes and princesses to worry about, right? Because who knows how many from the Summer Court are here?”

I snorted. “Right? We’re just supposed to believe that all of them are live and let live hippie fae?” Something occurred to me. “And I seriously doubt the Summer Prince isn’t feeding. The power practically dripped off him.”

“I think—” The door to the room opened, revealing Tink. He had company.

“Merle and crew were looking for you.” He stepped aside. “Told them you were probably here or the library, so I decided to be their escort because I’m cool like that.” He glanced at Brighton and then waved at her. “Hi!”

Brighton seemed to sink into the chair as she murmured, “Hello.”

He turned away from us. “I also found your daughter. I am so helpful.”

I arched a brow as I looked around him. Standing behind Merle was Tanner. Neither looked happy.

I pushed off my hands, sitting up straight. I figured they were ready to discuss the plans to find and question Marlon. “What’s up?”

Merle stormed into the room. Something metal dangled from her hand. Wait. Were those . . . handcuffs? “Ren told us.”

A chill swept through me.

“Told you what?” Tink frowned as his gaze swept over us.

Merle’s eyes were like glaciers of ice. “Ivy’s planning to run.”

Chapter 16

For a good, long second, I was too shocked by the fact that Ren had actually ratted me out to have much of a reaction.

Holy crap, he’d actually gone to Merle and Tanner?

I was going to punt kick him into next week!

“What?” Tink shouted, his voice echoing off the walls of the small room. “You’re going to run?”

“Not anymore.” Merle lifted the handcuffs.

The purpose of the handcuffs registered with sudden clarity. I launched off the floor. “You’re going to handcuff me? Are you out of your mind?”

Merle’s grip tightened on the handcuffs. “My mind is as sharp as a fiddle, girl.”

Sharp as a fiddle? That didn’t even make sense. Whatever. She took a step toward me, and my hand flew to my dagger. “If you come one inch closer to me, you’ll find out that this dagger is sharper than a fiddle.”

“Ivy,” Brighton gasped, rising from her chair.

Merle held still. “You were planning to run off—”

“I was planning to leave when I thought the Prince was still here, which is totally my choice.” My fingers tightened around the handle of the dagger. “But all of that is a moot point now, isn’t it?”

“That’s what I tried to explain to Merle.” Tanner, ever the mediator, stood to my right.