“It is a sacred scroll.” I breathed and licked at my dry lips. “It can only be given freely to a named receiver by the Lady of Night…my mother.”
He grunted. “You also know it will destroy itself should the receiver be unworthy of carrying its secrets.”
My drink clanked horribly in the stillness of the room as I set it down on the table. My hand shifted to hover over the onyx scroll laying there, trembling before I snatched it back with a sudden whimper.
“I can’t.” I gasped for breath, clutching my hand to my chest. “What I saw—.” I rocked in my chair as a gripping panic rose inside of me. Splitting my chest into two and leaving me with panting breaths. I could hear that horrible roaring again, as I always did when the panic set in, a tortured sound of someone in pain. I whimpered, rubbing at my wrist frantically and feeling the memory of the burning iron. I would never be free…never. “I can’t.”
“Shhhh. It’s okay, little umbra. You don’t have to.”
My head snapped up and blinked at the shifter king kneeling at my feet. The roaring intensified.
A broken plea left my lips. “You must get away. Dangerous. Too dangerous.” The darkness stirred within and it called to me.
“Just breathe, little umbra. Breathe, Remnant.” Emon reached for my hands, pulling them away from my chest and uncurling my clenched fingers to press his palms to mine. “Do it with me, Remnant. Inhale.”
A command. I inhaled.
“Exhale.” He ordered.
I exhaled.
“Inhale.” He purred and started drawing soothing circles against my palms, his gold eyes never leaving my grief stricken face. “Exhale.” He repeated. “Again. Inhale.”
I began taking deep breaths without his cues, his proximity amplifying the spiced chocolate scent that was uniquely his. My chest opened, my breaths deepened, the pounding pulse eased, and that horrid sound was gone.
“Good.” He purred and slowly withdrew to press my glass back into my hands. “Drink.”
I looked away. Too deep. I was in too deep with this shifter. “I am fine now, thank you.” I took a long swig, ignoring his gaze and allowed the burn of the alcohol to chase away the rest of the panic and the stirring feelings inside of me.
The shifter king sighed and moved swiftly back to his own chair. “Do you wish to talk about it?”
“No.” I took another long drink and waited patiently for him to continue.
From my periphery he raked his hands through his hair, frowning at the fire. “I don’t know why the goddess only showed me in her vision but the truth is, your mother and I staged the attack, giving her time to flee with her people. I believe that scroll is the location of their new home…your home.” His voice wavered slightly.
I did not want to look at the scroll. “You said blood was spilled but not shadow fae. Who was it then?”
Emon took a long drink from his glass, the firelight dancing across his bronze skin. “Falcon sent shifter forces by order of the Queen to destroy the court.” Emon bared his teeth. “I was there to rip that fucking bastard to shreds…but he never showed, just like the coward he is. Instead, I ripped apart his followers, fae I grew up with. Ones that I once called friends.”
“Shifter blood.” I whispered.
He chuckled darkly. “Turns out I am just like my father. I can kill my own people without hesitation too.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand. How could you have known about Falcon or the queen’s orders?”
His beautiful gaze turned on me searching. “I was already in Faerie. To discuss the treaty terms and to bring my wayward emissary Falcon to heel. Despite what Deirdre had done to my mother and my desperate need to gut that dishonorable cunt, I was so goddess damn tired of the bloodshed that I was willing to hear her out. By the time I stepped onto Faerie shores, word of your betrayal spread and I knew then that if the queen could betray the woman she loved—if she could spread vile, disgusting lies about the most celebrated general in all Faerie, then there was no hope for me and my own.”
I flinched and looked away.
“Forgive me, that was tactless.” His tone was remorseful.
I stared into the fire. “Do not apologize, shifter, and you needn’t fear. I am quite under control. Your city and people are safe for now.”
Emon snarled. “I do not fear your lack of control, little umbra. I only meant that I do not wish to cause you any pain and my words were thoughtless—” his voice softened. “I am sorry.”
My fingers tapped against my glass. “I do not need your censure nor your concern, your highness.”
He snorted and stood. “Another drink then?” He arched a questioning brow.
