* * *
Tessa often dreamt of the forest, and while I could take her anywhere I’d been in the world, I let her lead me to that place filled with birdsong, sap, and shadows. Normally, I found an empty tree bent with age, its bark forming a seat beneath the drooping evergreen leaves. But she took up that space now. She sat with her arms wrapped around her legs, her chin on her knees. As I approached, my boots crunching fallen twigs, she closed her eyes, like she couldn’t stand the thought of seeing me.
A dagger of pain sliced my heart. Why did this have to be so fucking complicated?
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said by way of greeting. “Since you seem to hate me and my family.”
She had a right to be angry. I still held a grudge against Oberon after all these years for what he’d done to my mother. And calling it a “grudge” was putting it lightly.
“I don’t hate you.”
“You have an interesting way of showing that,” she said with a bitter laugh.
“You’re one to talk.” She looked so innocent sitting there, with her legs tucked up to her chest, but I knew what she was capable of. “Why did you call me to your dreams? To argue? To see who could wield their words with a sharper blade? Because if so, I have better things to do.”
I turned to go but she cleared her throat before I got more than half a step away. “These better things you need to take care of. What are they, anyway?”
I leaned against the tree and folded my arms. “Why would I tell you that? I’m not sure I can trust you.”
“I don’t trust you, either,” she said with a frown. “I don’t trust anyone.”
“Good. I’m glad we got that cleared up. Anything else?”
“Are you outside of Albyria? Out in the mists on the other side of the Bridge to Death?” she asked, lifting her chin from her knees to gaze up at me. Her bottomless brown eyes seemed to pierce right through me. Dammit.
“The Bridge to Death? Is that what you call it?” Oberon really had woven quite the tale for the mortals. Perhaps for his own fae as well. To cross that bridge was to walk straight into your final day in this world. For many, I had to admit, that was true. But not because I wanted to roast people alive and consume their flesh. I’d done a lot of terrible things in my life, but that kind of monstrous indulgence—a practice begun by the gods—was one thing I would never do.
“Seems like a pretty accurate title, if you ask me.” She dropped her legs on either side of the branch and gave me a frank perusal. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, though, do you?”
My eyebrows pinched together. “What?”
“I can tell by the look on your face. You don’t know why I’m asking you if you’re outside of Albyria, which means…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It isn’t you.”
Annoyance burned through me. “Stop speaking in riddles.Whatisn’t me?”
Victory lit her eyes as her lips curled into a smile. She swung her leg over the branch and hopped down, fallen leaves crunching beneath her boots. As she stalked toward me, I held my body still, forcing my heartbeat to remain steady. But my gaze wandered from her face, drifting to the cascade of silken hair around her shoulders, to the curve of her breasts beneath the snug tunic, to the hand tucked behind her back where I knew she hid a dagger.
I took every single inch of her in, and I reveled in her.
“I’d hoped you had a plan, but this is almost as good. Because I know more than the Mist King does for once,” she said with a luxurious laugh. Delight danced in her eyes. “Now, get out of my dream.”
Mist seeped from my skin as I curved over her. She tipped back her head, and her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “You forget. I’m the one in control here. Not you.”
“I don’t want my father’s murderer in my dreams.”
“You called me. You always do.” A smile tipped up the corners of my lips. “You always have.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I said get out.”
Suddenly, she whipped the wooden dagger out from behind her back and shoved the pointy end right into my throat, though she stopped before the sharp end could draw blood, not that it could in a dream. Her eyes flashed. “You killed my father. I should kill you for good this time.”
“Unfortunately for you, we’re in a dream. And you know the truth about your father. I had no other choice but to kill him.”
Her gaze swept across my face, her brow pulled down. “How can I be sure you aren’t lying to me about that? He never said anything to me about the gods. I’ll admit he was acting strangely the last few months I saw him, and he did leave Teine to search the mists for something, but…”
“Perhaps he didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to know.”
Her face tightened. “That doesn’t make sense. And besides, even if everything you say is true, that doesn’t change the fact you stole his life from him. There must have been another way to stop—”