“Sometimes.”

She swallowed against her dry mouth. “Oh.”

“For most of my life, I’ve led the court of nightmares, Ani. I’ve damaged the two people I’ve loved.” He let his emotions wash over her—sorrow, anger, but not regret. “I bound the Summer King, who was a friend’s son. I’ve ordered more deaths than I could count, done things too perverse to speak of.”

“Do you regret any of it?” she whispered.

“No.” Irial paused at a sound. Heavy footsteps crossed the floor, stopped outside the door, but then turned away. “I made the best decisions I could. I took care of my court. I still do. Sometimes that means killing people. My court— and now my king—come first.”

“I would do whatever my king ordered,” she assured him. “I’d rather not kill with this though. Give me a fair fight and—”

“I know.” Irial pulled her into his embrace, holding her carefully. “He wouldn’t like using your hunger as a weapon any more than you would.”

“You would. You still do the things Niall wouldn’t want to.”

Irial didn’t answer, but it wasn’t really a question. “We’ll figure it out. You’ll be strong and safe, Ani.”

She lifted her head and looked up at him. “Can I crash here for a few?”

“Keep your clothes on, and you’re welcome to stay.”

Ani felt like she’d just drifted off when she woke to snarls.

“Are you completely without any sense?” Niall stood above her, scowling. On either side of him, abyss-guardians swayed and patted him consolingly.

She blinked up at him, trying to understand why the Dark King was angry with her, but before she could answer, someone else did.

“What difference does it make to you?” Irial sounded nonplussed. His arm stayed around her, keeping her still as he spoke.

The cover that someone had tucked around them was pulled all the way up to her neck, and she was nestled against Irial’s bare chest.

“She’s Gabriel’s daughter. She’s half-mortal… and you—” Niall reached down as if to pull her out of Irial’s embrace.

“Don’t.” Irial’s voice wasn’t the agreeable sound of a subject before his king.

Ani sighed. A bit of violence would be a perfect next step in an already pleasant morning.

If only…

“You’re not the king anymore, Irial. Do you want to challenge me?”

There was laughter in Irial’s voice when he answered, “Don’t be foolish.”

“You’re a Gancanagh again.” Niall sounded weary. “I don’t know if her mortal side is dominant enough to make you addictive to her.”

“Ani is barely mortal. Look at her. The only thing mortal about her is her strength… and with time and a little training, who knows?” Irial sounded irritated, but Ani couldn’t tell if it was real. He’d locked his emotions down now that Niall was in the room.

“Are you going to tell Gabriel that?” Niall’s voice dropped even lower, not that anyone in the house would spill the Dark King’s secrets, but he was cautious. “Because I’m not going to tell him that you decided she was fey enough to fu—to sleep with.”

Ani sighed again. Niall was actually kind of sexy now that he was furious instead of sulking. Shadows extended from him like the whispered suggestion of wings, and the lack of light made the lengthy scar on his face look menacing.

“He’s tasty when he’s like this,” she whispered.

“Hop up, sweetheart.” Irial didn’t laugh, but it was just there under the edge of his voice.

“I’m comfortable and”—she glanced at the clock and then at her king—“who gets up at this hour? I just got to sleep.”

“You can sleep in my room for a few more hours,” Irial said.

Niall held out a hand; even in his anger, he was a gentleman.

Reluctantly, she took Niall’s hand and stood up—thereby revealing just how clothed she was. At the confused look on her king’s face, she leaned in and whispered, “Trust me: I tried, but he shot me down.”

She glanced back at Irial, who was still stretched out on the sofa, topless and languid. If she hadn’t been there, she’d think he’d truly had a night of indulgence from the look of him.

Niall followed her gaze, but he didn’t soften at the sight. “I’m not in the mood to play games, Irial.”

“Go upstairs, Ani.” Irial swung his feet to the floor. He didn’t glance her way. His attention was all for the Dark King now. “Tell me what you think I should’ve done differently, Niall. I spent the night talking and giving her a safe place to rest. I gave her the nourishment she can’t find elsewhere without compromising her already absent virtue.”

The Dark King didn’t respond.

Several moments passed in a silent standoff. Ani crossed the room and slid open one of the ornately carved double doors that led to the most private part of the Dark King’s home.

Behind her, Irial broke the silence. “What did you want to discuss? I heard you at the door last night.”

He sounded perfectly calm. He might be half-lost over his feelings, but he didn’t let that show. Both Niall and Irial were cloaking their emotions very efficiently.

Ani felt a curious mix of sadness that Irial felt the need to hide his feelings and pleasure that he’d trusted her enough to let her see them last night. If Niall was paying attention, he’d realize that Irial’s gift of his court and his ongoing advice was a love sonnet.

The leather sofa creaked as Niall sat down. “I hate you sometimes.”

As Ani left the room, she heard Irial ask, “And the rest of the time?”

She didn’t stay to hear that answer. Sleep was more important than knowing secrets that weren’t her concern. It was too early for anything other than crawling into bed.

Ani had only just drifted off to sleep when she found herself sitting in a cave. “What here doesn’t belong? Stalactites, stalagmites, straw and organ formations, girl in ball dress? Hmmm.”

Rae smiled. “Hello, Ani.”

“Not in the mood for this.” Ani walked out of the cave, away from the dark-haired girl she’d dreamed of for most of her life. “Dreaming you, naming you, a freaking figment of my imagination… it’s a sign of insanity or something.”

“You’re certainly an odd one.” Rae had followed her. “You’re not crazy, though. Maybe I’m as real as you.”

Ani glared at her, but didn’t reply. There were times when Ani almost liked dreaming about her pretend friend, but this morning wasn’t one of them. She was on edge, feeling a little worried, and just not in the mood for whatever nonsense she would think with a Rae Dream. Somewhere over the years, she’d decided that her Rae Dreams meant questioning herself or thinking about things in different ways than typically made sense. The first Rae Dream was when Jillian died, and since then, when Ani was out of sorts, she’d almost always dreamed about Rae.

“Poor thing,” Rae whispered. “Are the restrictions too much? Can you talk to Gabr—”

“No. Yes, but that’s not the point.” Ani crossed her arms over her chest. “I met someone. He was… different.”

Since it was a dream, Ani imagined him. Instantly, he appeared before her, as solid in appearance as her imagined confidante—but not wearing bizarre garb like Rae did.

Rae gasped. “Oh.”

“I need to stay away from him.” Ani looked away from the image. “I don’t want to hurt him, Rae, and he has my blood. If he finds me, Irial will…” Even in a dream, the words weren’t ones Ani wanted to say.

Rae took Ani’s hands and held them tightly. “Trust yourself, Ani.”

The world around them vanished, and Ani was standing in a white void with only Rae in front of her.

“Call your wolves, Ani.” Rae’s voice echoed in the white expanse.

For a moment, Ani couldn’t respond. My wolves?

“Look for them, Ani,” Rae insisted. “Why do you dream of wolves?”