Beryl wanted to take everything from me, and she’d succeeded. While we’d turned her right-hand man and her favorite assassin away from her, she’d wasted no time in turning the tables on me.
Vi slept. Addie wasn’t here. And Ness argued loudly with her husband. While I could tell that Ness wasn’t having any of Ryder’s complaints, I also knew he was speaking from a dark place, a place that Beryl had dragged him to without his consent. I should have been smarter.
Now that I was a fae that’d brought fae food and wine close to his family and Pack, Ryder would never trust me again. Like that, Beryl had used her past with Ryder to completely undermine my alliance with the Lakesedge Pack.
Rhoan turned and caught me before I could leave. He gently tugged me close and whispered, “You did everything perfectly. All these lives were saved because of you and your quick thinking. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
At first, I didn’t see what he meant. My gaze fell to the sleeping antichrist on the ground. The fae wine had completely undone her control. Though Vi had put in a lot of work to manage her fire—and the brilliant searing light that it’d become in recent months—the magical wine had stolen all of her inhibitions and left her without any walls at all.
She could have easily destroyed the house and hurt several Pack members had this gone unchecked. I thought it a stroke of luck that I’d noticed the bottle in Vi’s hands, however I wasn’t so sure anymore.
I shook my head. “This is what Beryl wanted. She used a cheap glamour to cause chaos and sow mistrust. She never meant for anyone to get hurt, only to drive me out of my home.”
Home. The Pack had always been my home, even when Alvin stood at the head of it. Though he’d been an asshole, the others had my back. They’d kept me safe and out of Alvin’s sight. Ness had been there for me when Alvin had caught me and used me as a pawn.
Now, Beryl had taken that from me.
“You know that’s bullshit!” Ness stomped her foot.
Everyone, even the fae-drunk Pack shifters, fell silent. All eyes turned on the furious Barghest. Thunder crackled overhead. Lightning slammed into the ground at her feet. Ryder didn’t flinch. Was he used to his wife’s electrical fury? I mean, he was a storm dragon. The man could handle it.
“I will not allow that wench to get her way again,” Ness growled at her mate.
Ryder’s sigh turned into a nasty snarl. He wouldn’t make that kind of sound at his wife, would he?
“Best run while you can,” Morgan said, voice monotone while he hoisted his own sleeping mate from the ground.
I sensed that he didn’t want to help me, but he also knew that the argument between his brother and sister-in-law might get a bit explosive. Instead of retreating completely like Rhoan wanted to do when he touched my arm, I tugged my fae warrior into the kitchen so we could start working on a fae-food-detox potion.
Rhoan posted up near the window while I worked. I’d never made anything like this, though I figured I could treat it like a poison. I’d made enough antidotes to fight Delphine’s poison lately. It had to work the same way.
But my confidence wavered when I placed my hand over the pot on the stove and felt the weakness of my potion. It was lacking something. I wasn’t sure what I needed—not yet, at least. I ran out to grab a bit of the fae food and wine, but even that couldn’t provide what I needed. I’d thought that it could work the same way Rhoan’s hangover shot worked.
That wasn’t quite right, though. I could spend all day in here, trying to figure out the right composition. I didn’t have the time, though. I wanted my friends to see that I was on their side.
“What do I need?” I slammed the countertop.
Everything jumped and rattled. When nothing fell over, I snatched up the nearest spice bottle and pulled my hand back to throw it. With a frustrated growl in my throat, I forced myself to set it back down.
Nothing was working. My Pack family was suffering.
Rhoan didn’t jump. He didn’t even flinch. I assumed he was used to loud sounds at the bar…and perhaps in war.
In my head, I could imagine Beryl laughing at me. She knew something I didn’t. In that moment, I realized what she wanted. Beryl was holding all the secrets.
She wanted me to visit her.
I glanced over my shoulder at Rhoan still standing in the window. He didn’t even look back at me. How was I going to escape? The minute I tried to walk in-between, he would grab me. I would need to be sneaky about this.
My friends and family needed me to find the missing ingredient to this potion. Beryl had formulated the attack so that I would have to come crawling to her for the last piece for my antidote. It was an obvious trap, of course.
But when I looked out the window beside Rhoan, I could see my parents hanging from the root tethers. Their faces were slack while the fae wine dragged them down into a dreamlike state. The hangover would be immense if I couldn’t fix this. They would eschew human food and try to find any way to get more fae wine.
It would slowly destroy them from the inside out. They would waste away.
Not if I had anything to say about it. As I turned, my braid swung out and smacked Rhoan—wait, no. It didn’t. It went right through him.
Jaw nearly hitting the floor, I swiped at the apparition of Rhoan. He’d left a fake with me!