Page 109 of Of Mist and Shadow

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Forty-Two

Tessa

My head drooped to my chest as the hours passed. The king’s quarters were even more luxurious than I’d imagined, and I’d made the mistake of settling onto his lush velvet sofa. It was far too comfortable. Shaking myself awake, I pushed back up onto aching feet and trailed through the substantial rooms.

Three, in total, as I’d quickly discovered during my first sweep through the quarters. His bedroom was the largest of them all, an enormous, four-poster bed taking up most of the space. Silken curtains hung off each elaborately carved post. He’d made about a dozen notches in the one nearest to a pile of pillows. I didn’t want to think about what those meant.

How many women he’d bedded? Or how many he’d killed?

Although, truth be told, both of those numbers were likely far greater than the notches etched here.

The second room was his own private bathing chamber with a claw-footed tub overlooking the city rooftops and the village beyond. I could see the wooden wall that curved between the village and the mountains. Shadows thickened beyond it, hiding the rest of the world from view. The mists hadn’t vanished, just like I’d thought. At least they’d never reach Teine, now that the Mist King was…

I turned away from the mists, my heart clenching, and walked back through the living area. There were sofas and plush pillows, soft, thick carpets in reds and golds, dozens of wine bottles and crystal glasses, and luxurious lotions, scented with lavender.

It was such a beautiful home for a murderous monster.

A hum went through the room, and something glittered from the table by the bed. I went to it, sucking in a breath at the glowing onyx gemstone that thrummed with power. It was attached to a gold chain. I’d seen Oberon wear this a few times.

What unnerved me so was the feel of it, the whisper of the power against my cheek. I’d felt that magic before. It was the god’s power from the dungeon beneath Itchen. I took several steps back, putting as much distance between us as I could.

Was this where Oberon kept the rest of that god?

The door cracked open. Alarm shooting through me, I ducked behind the side of the bed and whisked out my dagger. Footsteps echoed on the floor. The door slammed hard, reverberating through Oberon’s quarters.

I kept myself as steady as I could, one hand braced on the floor, the other wrapped around the hilt of the Mortal Blade. My heart raged inside of me, so loud I was certain Oberon would be able to hear it, too. Desperation clawed through me. I wanted to peek around the bed, see how many fae had entered this room.

If he found me and he had guards...

“I know you’re in here, Tessa,” Oberon announced. “There are dead guards by the Bridge to Death. Not to mention all the reports I’ve had in the past few hours from people who have spotted a human scurrying around like a frightened mouse, heading into inns and poking around. Did you think I’d be too stupid to realize you’d come here?”

So much for sneaking up on him from behind. Quietly, I hid the blade behind my back and stood.

Oberon lounged on the bed, arms folded, lips quirked with a wicked smile. Those horrible horns gleamed from the light of the sun streaming in from the window behind him. He gave me a quick once-over before shaking his head. “You look worse than you did when I found you stealing from me, which is quite the accomplishment. Did the shadow fae not treat you well?”

“They have nothing to do with this,” I hissed between my teeth, though that wasn’t entirely truthful. They had been the ones to start this. But I would be the one to end it. On my own fucking terms.

“I’ll admit, I’m surprised to see you here,” he drawled, sprawled across the bed as if this conversation had no effect on him at all. As if he were bored of it already. “I assumed I’d have to kill the Mist King and pry you out of his cold, dead hands. He gave you up far more easily than I expected, which was fairly stupid of him. I wouldn’t have done the same in his place. He’s let me win.”

“The Mist King is dead,” I said flatly.

His brows arched. “Dead?”

“I killed him.” My entire body stiffened as Oberon leapt off the bed and edged closer. “The same way I’m going to kill you.”

He stopped and laughed, an eerie sound that sliced against my eardrums. I couldn’t help but shudder. “You think thatyou, a mortal girl, could kill a five-hundred-year-old fae king? I may hate the Mist King with every fiber of my soul, but I am not willfully blind to the fact he’s one of the most powerful beings alive. You could never kill him, Tessa. You could not even harm him. You wouldn’t know how.”

It was my turn to smile now. “I’m really going to relish the look on your face when you realize just how wrong you truly are.”

I pulled the blade out from behind my back and angled it so that he could spot the gemstone gleaming in the center of it. “Ever see this before?”

His eyes slightly widened. “Impossible.”

“Notimpossible,” I said, my smile growing wicked. “The Mist King has had it all these years, just waiting for a chance to find a mortal who could use it against you. I stole it from him and brought it here.”

Oberon launched toward me, his hand outstretched. His body slammed into mine. The world tipped sideways as I tumbled to the floor, as his fingers began to close around my wrist. Heart pounding, I twisted away from him, rolling across the floor to escape his grip. I barely slid out of the way just in time, but the dagger clattered across the stone, away from me.

Seething, he climbed to his feet and gazed down at me. My back was against the wall, Oberon blocking the only route out of this room. The fire in his eyes burned with venomous hate. I was trapped. And as he laughed, I realized I would not get out of this alive.


Tags: Jenna Wolfhart Fantasy