Emperor Ailani was finally dead.

Princess Kaila had shed her most convincing tears during the Passing Ceremonies, the mandatory period of reverent silence, and the coronation of his heir, Emperor Haipo, her brother by law.

Her days of dangling dutifully on the arm of her husband, the younger Prince Okalani, amounted to almost a week. But she had made it through without a hair out of place all because she was grinning on the inside. Change was coming and the Kanaloans had been expecting it for ages.

"There, there," she said to her husband while he cried on her shoulder.

Okalani drank the warm coconut milk she gave to him. Then she tucked him beneath the sheets of their shared bed.

He would sleep soundly tonight.

Kaila removed her robe and hung it beside her bejeweled mirror, her wedding present and one of the only luxuries she was ever provided. It reflected the full length of her naked body, wings and all.

No fairy-male could refuse her, or so she believed—she was counting on it—but just to be sure, she plucked, smoothed, and painted herself to perfection. Her dark eyes pierced through the dramatic shadow. She puckered to apply her most seductive shade of berry to her lips and sprayed the scent of lavender in all the usual places.

The nightgown she chose was silky and black, and left just enough to the imagination. Her long legs, wings, most of her back and shoulders, as well as nearly half of her full breasts would be available for viewing . . . and with any luck, coveting.

She had to be fully committed to her task. And she was, without a doubt. Beyond that, she wanted to have a little fun with her part, while it lasted. She loved being desired by someone who should know better.

In due course, her hair came last. She smoothed down her dark waves until they had a shiny finish. After twirling it tight, she pinned the spiral up with a spike of silver.  

Kaila removed herself from her bedchamber, unconcerned about her level of exposure. She fluttered to the highest and most luxurious floor of the Tree Palace. There was little chance anyone other than whom she sought would see her at this time of night.

Haipo, the new emperor, answered her knock almost immediately. Through the crack of the door, he gave her a long glance downward with one eye. "What are you doing here?"

"He told me to get out." She shed a false tear on cue. It was a skill she had mastered. She also knew how to make them stop before they could wash away her fine work. "I have no place to go." 

The door opened wide enough to reveal Haipo's head. This time, he discerned her through two slits for eyes. Then his resolve seemed to weaken, with his nostrils first—could he smell her perfume?—and his uncensored gaze wandered to her lips, then to her breasts. . .

"My wife. . ."

Kaila welcomed herself across the threshold. "Hasn't slept in your bedchamber in years. And she would never have to know."

While he stood there, firmly undecided, she sauntered closer. A well-placed hand beneath his robe told her that her plan was working. "It is you I want, who I have always wanted."

She gave him the closeness of the rest of her body, her mouth ready for his kiss, which he laid upon her, moist and heavy as a tropical summer rain. His hands possessed her around her thighs, her bare backside, her waist, all quite fiercely for someone so dull and cautious.

From there, his actions were predictable. He kicked the door shut and flexed his dormant wings into flight with her body clutched against his center.

They were flying horizontally. He landed on top of her. He flattened her into his feather mattress, again and again and again, with his bulk and vigor, and she could only lie there, open and overwhelmed by his power.

But she wasn't as vulnerable to his good looks—laughable—his charm—non-existent—or his sexual prowess—surprisingly not as bad as she had expected—as she so vocally led him to believe. And while his rhythm, his voice, and his breathing were cresting, Kaila crossed her wrists over her head and used her delicate fingers to pluck the spike of silver from her hair.

She let Emperor Haipo have his sweet release—he had earned it—and she pulled his head to her breasts. Before his eyes had a chance to regain reliable sight, Kaila pierced his neck exactly on target and let his blood pour over her. And then her body succumbed to the most gratifying finish of her lifetime.

Kaila basked there in ecstasy until his blood turned cold. Then she burst from his window, embracing the night.

She flew high and fast, toward the moon, immune to the exhaustion she would have normally felt for the distance she had covered. Once she spotted the streak of sun on the horizon, she coasted to a landing in the gentle North Shore surf. She peeled away her fairy nightgown, letting it drift, never to be seen again. Then she cleansed herself of the grime and scum that had been weighing her down . . . for years.

She felt reborn.          

And when Kaila returned to her husband's chamber, he was snoring his typical and oh so infuriating cacophony. So she sat before her mirror once again. Her face was poised with beautiful indifference. She tried to recall a time when she was capable of feeling grief or remorse. And she couldn't.

A long time ago, she was trying to survive beside the only one who ever loved her unconditionally—her mother. They had no inclination to choose sides in the ongoing war between Kāne and Kanaloa. Until. . .     

He was a Kāne warrior. His name, Noa Kendri. It was a name he was proud of because he told her over and over again while he stole her innocence.

Noa killed her mother for trying to stop him. Someday, she would find him, and he would pay, first with his freedom, and then, slowly and painfully, with his life.

Kaila's pleas for justice had landed her in Emperor Ailani's court. But her beauty seemed to capture more attention there than her story did. Like a child, Prince Okalani saw something he wanted and demanded change to acquire it.

He had made many promises, just for the honor of her affection. He proposed to her without delay, defying his father's command—she is unfit to wed—and claimed he would provide her with great luxury, his love and fidelity, and the victory she craved.

All lies. . .

Prince Okalani cared about one thing only—himself—and whichever scrumptious whim of the hour could bestow him with the most exotic of pleasures, a habit that resumed not more than a few days after their wedding.

That was the full extent of his ambition. How best to exploit his weapon of choice. He would receive an appropriate punishment as well, but for now, since she had no legitimate claim as empress without him, she had to keep Okalani alive. But she doubted he'd give her much trouble, not where he was about to go. She was also carrying his heir, the pregnancy confirmed just hours ago by a doctor. Once a healthy child of his was born, she'd have no further use for him. 

Kaila was quick to receive the knock at the door. "Is it done?"

The soldier at the door was indeed a fine specimen of masculinity. Both fierce and feared, Punahele Tam possessed all the predictable appetites that Kaila required—her being one of them—but he had a mere fraction of her tenacity and mental prowess. And it was just as well.

The burlap sack he carried looked heavy and was stained with blood. The victory he flaunted on his face confirmed the rest. Still, she had to see it to believe it. She peeked inside.

General Kekoa's head was so small and pale without the girth of his body there to hold it upright. The sight was hysterical. Her laugh was so loud that Prince Okalani finally stirred.

"What on earth is so funny?" he called out from beneath the sheets, without bothering to look.

"Nothing of interest, my prince."

She smoothed her hands over Punahele Tam's chest and brought her lips to his ear. "Take him away," she whispered, "and then you will have your reward, General Tam."

She backed away and opened her robe for him, letting him stare at her naked body for a moment. His mouth and tongue twitched, but his eyes did not blink.

Once she re-tied her robe, Punahele didn't waste any additional time. He pulled out his blade and moved toward the unsuspecting prince.

"This is obscene. You have no power without me!" Prince Okalani wailed as he was brought to the ground, restrained within seconds.

Kaila removed the former general's head from the sack and rolled it across the room. "You're wrong. It wouldn't be the first time. But it is the last time your ignorance will be a concern of mine."