Cyra walked two steps in front of me as we entered the throne room. She claimed it would make me appear submissive. A human who would easily cower before the might of the Fae. But from the extra sway she added to her hips, I suspected the princess also wanted to show off her assets.

I smiled, grateful for the veil she insisted I wear to hide my new Fae features. Long, sheer, and edged in pale green lace that was adorned with gemstones I suspected were Lunasta, any bride would have been delighted to wear it on their wedding day. However, in Faerie, veils were reserved for periods of mourning, which is precisely what I would be doing for real if I failed today.

My eyes lifted to the end of the aisle, where Queen Orla reclined on her wooden throne. Today she wore a gown of dark brown feathers and a cape of hunter green velvet. A simple crown of golden grapevine sat atop her head, shimmering in the candlelight whenever she moved.

I hated that she was so beautiful. Such a cruel creature should be forced to wear its ugly on the outside.

"A bit dramatic, don't you think?" Orla said, gesturing toward me and the veil.

"I'm only matching your energy," I snarled, eyes sweeping the base of her throne.

To the left stood a cluster of Fae males and females, all garbed in fine linens and silk gowns. No doubt the other members of the court that had answered the summons of the bells. They eyed Cyra and me with a mixture of interest and disdain.

"Where is Calix?"

"This is not a gathering meant for criminals," she answered, shaking out her skirt as she straightened in the chair.

The veil shivered with the rage trembling my limbs, and that spot in my back burned. I surged forward and Cyra gripped my elbow to stop me from marching right up to the queen. Even the memory of her magical assault did not dampen my desire to strike her. It would be worth the pain to see some measure of it echoing back from her eyes.

"My daughter displays some wisdom, after all. Tell me, Luna. Have you made your decision?"

Inhaling so deeply, the boning of my corset strained against my ribs, I infused my response with saccharine sweetness. "We are not here to discuss me, Your Highness. You rang the bells to call us here."

A male broke away from the whispering group. He was tall as most Fae males were, but where many were like Lorcan who possessed a graceful slenderness, this male was broadly built and roped in muscles. A warrior's physique, much like Calix's. Yet where my mate's wide shoulders and chest tapered in sharply at his hips, this male was wide from his shoulders to his thighs. I'd seen brick walls less sturdy than he was.

"My queen," the male said, flicking tawny brown eyes the same shade as his luminous skin toward us as he spoke to Orla. "We are most anxious to hear your announcement."

"Ahh, Baron Riven, my love," Orla purred, biting on her lip as she giggled. She stuck her hand out, and he brought it to his lips for a kiss. "I'm afraid it is not what you're hoping for. Not yet. Your future bride to be is not cooperating."

Cyra and I stiffened. Baron. The princess had mentioned that her mother might wish me to marry one of the Barons.

"But do not fear. I believe we will have good news for you in two days' time."

Riven smiled. It did not reach his eyes. "Would it not be easier for my original request to be granted?"

"No," Orla snapped, her playful vanishing as she grabbed him by the chin. Her dark red nails sank into his skin. "I could give you nothing."

Riven jerked out of her grasp, a ring of fire flashing in his irises. "You and I both know you will not take that risk."

Cyra gave me a look that promised an explanation later, but I didn't particularly care what bargain those two had struck. At least beyond my role in it, but if everything worked out how I wished, she might find herself forced to grant his original request. Whatever it was.

"Mother," Cyra prompted.

"Ah, yes."

Orla clapped her hands, and a door to the right opened. Lorcan stepped through it, his long legs eating up the distance with ease. I seethed as he bowed before the queen and did not bother acknowledging my presence.

Riven bowed deeply before Lorcan. "Well met, Prince Lorcan. There were rumors that you had fled the Summer Court, but I would not have expected to find you here. Will you be requesting refuge? Is this the announcement?"

The others looked disappointed. Queen Orla ignored them, stepping down from her throne and cupping Lorcan's face with her hand.

"Not quite, Baron Riven," she murmured, twirling a golden strand of Lorcan's hair around her finger. "I have decided it is time to mate again. My current heir is not suitable, and her mating contract with Prince Calix is no longer valid."

"What?" I gasped. "No!"

Orla kissed Lorcan. At first, he remained frozen, refusing to open to her amorous advances, but after a heartbeat, he softened and kissed her back. She pulled away with a satisfied grin.

"Prince Lorcan has kindly agreed to assist me with producing a new heir."

*********************************************************************************************

Lorcan and Orla stood before her throne as an elderly Fae female bound their hands in twine. I couldn't comprehend how ancient she must be for time to show on her flesh. The other Fae had bowed their heads in solemn deference when she entered the room. Age must carry significant weight in Faerie, for I saw nothing remarkable about her other than wrinkles and white streaks in her hair.

Not that it mattered right now. One day I would have all the time in the world to grill Calix about the ways of his world. I made that promise to myself as Orla dragged Lorcan in for a kiss that was nearly pornographic.

"What the actual fuck is going on?" I hissed at Cyra from the corner of my lips. The veil over my face fluttered.

The princess' attention had been mostly on Riven throughout the binding ceremony, and she turned to me with obvious reluctance.

"My mother is far more clever than I thought."

I rolled my eyes, refusing to give the Autumn Queen that much credit. At most, she was opportunistic, and we were foolish. Naïve enough to wander into her kingdom, believing we were meeting allies.

"I mean Lorcan. Why would he do this?"

Cyra pursed her lips. "It would be a way to raise his standing. What's happened to him is rare, and history shows Courts are not kind to kings or queens after abdication. In fact, I believe most meet rather gruesome ends because the new sovereign does not want to take the chance that they'll change their mind."

Niamh would certainly kill both her brothers if she could get her hands on them. Of that, I was certain. It wouldn't matter that the Summer lands no longer supported Lorcan as the king.

Cyra continued. "So, I imagine for Lorcan this is a way to protect himself. Their mating contract is for one year. That means for a year at least, he has a home and protection, and if he actually sires a child, Mother will grant him a place of honor in this Court for the rest of his life."

When I looked at Lorcan again, it was with a little less anger and a lot more heartache. Did anyone else know that he already had a mate? One of the Ancient Ones at that? I doubted it, or even Queen Orla would not have risked it. Then again, with the Ancient Ones stuck in an eternal slumber, Lorcan was basically a widower. But why would he choose the queen who was threatening his brother's life?

"If I wasn't so mad at her for what she was doing to you and Calix, it might impress me," Cyra said, squeezing my hand as her gaze drifted once more to the handsome Baron. "More than one Faerie queen has lamented the fact that he was bound to a throne."

"What do you mean?"

"A mating contract cannot exist between two ruling monarchs. There would be too much confusion about which kingdom the child belonged to."

"So, why is Lorcan so desired?" Besides the fact that he was breathtakingly beautiful.

"Because his father was a proven breeder. Do you know how rare it is for matings between two Fae to produce one offspring, much less three? Why do you think my mother is so upset about losing Calix? We believe those males to be very virile.

My stomached tightened, and a sour taste filled my mouth. Cyra spoke of the matter so casually, and I tried not to judge her. I knew from talking to Niamh that having babies was treated more like a business in Faerie, but it still didn't sit well with me to hear her talk about two males that I cared for as nothing more than sperm donors.

The doors behind us groaned as someone opened them, and at least eight Fae males marched down the aisle carrying a giant four-poster bed covered in gold linens.

"What now?" I asked as they lowered the bed to the ground. Orla pulled Lorcan onto the mattress with an audible purr. "Wait—are they going to do that in front of us?"

Cyra lifted a shoulder. She was far too calm for someone who was about to watch her mother get railed. The doors opened again, and the space was flooded with servers carrying trays of wine and food.

"I told you about Iona and Pyro. This is an ancient ritual, but my mother is old enough to remember it. And vain enough to want others to witness her triumph."

"I can't do this," I muttered, dismissing a server who offered me a glass of wine.

Against my better judgment, I glanced at the bed. To my relief, the couple remained clothed as they lounged on the bed, though Orla's hand was down Lorcan's trousers.

"My, my," Cyra said, her skin flushing as we watched his cock rise in response to the queen's administrations.

A bolt of lust went through me, catching me off guard. I edged away from the princess. Her powers were a mystery to me, but I suspected they could get out of hand if she was turned on.

It didn't help that I was on a razor's edge of lust myself, the fresh mating bond twisting in knots the longer I was away from Calix. There was no way I was going to get caught up in what was about to be a giant orgy.

As soon as I thought about it, a cup clattered onto the floor, sending a spray of red wine across the dark wood. The female who dropped it didn't seem to notice as a red-headed male pinned her against the tree. His trousers hung low enough to show the contraction of his ass muscles every time he thrust forward.

"Cyra," Riven said, coming toward us with clear intent in his dark eyes. "You look ravishing, as always."

"Promise?" The princess asked, sucking in a deep breath as he hooked a finger into the deep v of her dress' neckline.

"Oh, it's not just a promise," he replied, glancing at me as he dug into his pocket.

"Whatever you've got there, you can keep—"

Riven held up a glimmering silver key. "Lorcan ran into me this morning as I was coming to answer the summons. He gave me this and told me to deliver it to you. Said it would show you the way."

"He did?" I took it. At once it grew warm, and I felt the urge to run out the door and to the left.

"That's a key to the cells," Cyra said, some of the lust clearing from her eyes. "Go. Mother will be preoccupied for some time."

Of course she would. I stepped backward. Once. Twice. Three times before I risked looking at Lorcan again.

He was on his knees, and the queen's back was flush against his chest. She panted in pleasure as he worked his hands between her legs, but his attention was fixed solely on me.

"Go," he mouthed.

Tears trickled down my cheek, and I nodded, whispering a thank you he couldn't see or hear before I turned and fled the throne room.