He’s referring to me and my glamour, I realize. Sleeping soldiers are nothing more than props once I use my magic on them.

The undead king wears a malicious smile as he stares up at his son, right before he disappears.

Galleghar manifests among the soldiers as they file into the room from all sides.

Within a minute, they form a ring around the four of us, their faces placid, their eyes eerily empty.

A scuffle and a choked sound come from one of the soldiers behind me. I turn just in time to see a bloody sword impaled through the fairy’s abdomen. A second later, it’s jerked out the way it came, making a wet, sucking noise.

The bleeding soldier teeters for a few seconds, then topples forward. In the darkened doorway beyond the dying fairy, a form steps out, his body rapidly brightening by the second until all I can see is a sphere of light.

When it dims again, I’m left staring at the King of Day.

Didn’t know he was invited to the party. Apparently, Des called in his ally’s help.

“I heard the Night Kingdom had a vermin problem,” Janus says. His eyes alight on Galleghar. “Ah. There’s the rat himself.”

My mate’s face remains impassive, even as he steps up to my side.

Galleghar’s eyes narrow. “Did you come here to kill me too?”

“Well, I didn’t come for the weather,” Janus replies.

Blood still drips from his sword as he strides forward, and he makes no attempt to wipe it off. He comes over to the four of us, nodding to Des, then Malaki and Temper. Temper, for her part, eyes him up and down like he’s lunch.

When Janus’s eyes land on me, he bows. “Lady, you have my sword and shield.”

My lips part in surprise. I’d assumed the Day King came here because he and Des were allies, but perhaps that’s not the reason.

Janus swore his fealty to me not so long ago; perhaps Des told him of our plan, perhaps this is him upholding his oath.

The soldiers make no move to retaliate for the death of their comrade; they just continue to watch us with that same, stoic expressions.

Galleghar studies Janus for another moment, then his eyes are drawn to me. My skin still glows, and the longer he looks at me, the more intrigued he appears.

“Slave,” he murmurs. Louder, he says, “I have a message for you—”

A heavy hand falls on Galleghar’s shoulder. “Enough,” the soldier behind him says.

The undead king glares at the gore-stained soldier, though the fairy pays the king no heed as he saunters forward, his eyes lit with dark delight.

There’s only one person who looks at me like that.

“Enchantress,” the Thief says, “how you beguile me even now.”

It’s a horrible sensation to hear that mercurial spirit of his projected through someone else’s body.

“I had thought to simply watch and enjoy the bloodbath, but—” he stares at me with sick fascination, “I want you to notice me as I have noticed you.”

Next to me, Des’s wings manifest, spreading out behind him. Around us, shadows fill the room. The Thief of Souls notices none of it.

“Baptized in blood, given over to your wildest nature, if I could touch your mind, maybe then I’d be satisfied.”

The gore-stained soldier closes in on me, drawing in near enough for me to smell the rot clinging to him.

Des steps in front of me, his wings shielding me from view.

“It’s not my fists you need to protect her from,” the Thief says. I can no longer see him, but I can feel his eyes all over my skin, watching me from dozens of different soldiers. “A single secret can cause so much trouble—isn’t that right, Desmond?”

My mate says nothing, and unfortunately, I can’t see what expression he wears. His wings, however, begin to fold up, which is at least some indication that his emotions are steady.

The Thief continues. “And we both know you have more than just one secret,” the Thief says. His eyes slip to me. “Has the King of the Night told you about me and Galleghar?”

What is he talking about?

I step up next to Des and take a good look at him. He’s wearing his secret-keeping face. The longer I gaze at him, the more uneasy I feel.

The Thief raises his eyebrows. “I take it he hasn’t.” He shakes his head in admonishment. “I know you have a reputation to uphold, Desmond, but one would think you’d at least be open with your mate.”

The Bargainer’s eyes move from the soldier’s to mine.

“Cherub,” he says, and I can tell he’s choosing his words carefully, “I have … been dishonest with you.”

He looks so foreign, so fae.

My heart beats a little louder.

“I told you I knew nothing of the prophecy of Galleghar Nyx or how he and the Thief were connected, but those were lies. I have read my father’s prophecy. I know why he is after you and what he fears. I know when and how he sought the Thief out, and I know how he must be stopped.”

My eyebrows pull together, even as I glance over at Galleghar. The traitor king’s gaze moves to me, and I can see lethal promise in them.

My siren bristles at the threat.

Come closer, fallen king, so that I might better carve you up.

“Desmond, aren’t you going to tell her the rest?” the Thief chimes in. He’s still staring at me, giving me that same uncanny look he used to when he was the Green Man. “Tell her how you learned of my true identity and where I lived. Tell her how you kept that knowledge from her—tell her and the rest of your friends.”

Each statement out of the Thief’s lips is a toxin, slowly poisoning my thoughts.

Has the Night King been deceiving me all this time?

You may have your wiles, enchantress, but you are not one for puzzles. A shame, really, when your mate so clearly is. He’s figured out quite a bit more than you have.

“Desmond,” Janus says, taking a step towards us, “is what he’s saying true?”

Des watches me, not answering, so I answer for him.

“It is.”

I feel my knees weaken as Janus and the others begin to talk at once, voicing their frustration.

Des is smarter than this. Everything I’m learning right now doesn’t align with what I know of my mate. He may be secretive and a little wicked, but he’s loyal. Whatever’s going on, whatever deception the Thief is trying to capitalize on, it must be some sort of smokescreen.

I capture Des’s hand, holding it between my own. There are so many things I want to tell him. How messed up it is that he kept me out of the loop. How I swear to God I will kick him in his fine ass if he continues to make a habit of lying. But more important—

“I trust you,” I say softly.

Des’s gaze is steady, but his eyes, his eyes burn like dying stars. He squeezes my hand. “You are my life, cherub.”

With that, he reaches for the sword strapped to him, unsheathing it in one fluid movement. He strikes down the gore-stained soldier standing before us. Around the room, the sleeping soldiers tense.

Des backs away from me, his wicked wings spreading wide until his staggering frame seems to fill the space.

“Till darkness dies,” he vows to me.

And then he disappears.

Chapter 33

Des is on his father in an instant, sword brandished. That’s the cue everyone seems to be waiting for.

With a battle cry, Malaki charges at the sleeping soldiers just as they rush in to meet us. Janus takes to the air, and Temper lets out a low laugh, her power rippling along her skin.