Few sentences could’ve startled her as much as that did. She stared at Devlin. “You…”

“He told me to be careful, but not why,” Devlin whispered. “I told him I wanted to take you away, to make you safe, and… he said only if it was your choice.”

“Oh.”

He leaned in and kissed her lightly, lips closed. “How deadly are you?”

“I could drain every faery I touch if they don’t know how to keep their emotions contained. I could funnel that energy to my court; I could feed them all.” Ani couldn’t hide her shudder. The idea of drinking down lives, of feeling bodies grow cold in her arms, was horrific. “Banan—she probably wants my blood for that reason. I’m not sure how, but if she could use it, she could feed on mortals, halflings, faeries…. Killing would be a way to feed the court. She likes killing.”

Devlin held her gaze. “I won’t let her use you.”

“Iri would use me too. He told me to kill you if I needed to.”

“And would you kill me, Ani?” Devlin held out his hand.

Ani slipped her hand into his, and he stood and pulled her to her feet and into his arms. “I don’t want to.”

“But if your kings ordered it?” he prompted.

“Disobeying my king… or Iri would mean leaving my court.” She stepped out of his reach. “But I’d rather not kill you.”

“And I you.” He kissed her forehead, and then he walked over to the bed.

She stood motionless.

“Come. I will keep my emotions hidden away so I can be next to you.” He folded the covers back.

Tears threatened. “Are you sure?”

“Never more in my life.” He held out a hand again. “Rest now, Ani. Even potential murderesses need their sleep.”

Rae walked through the palace, peering out windows at Faerie. It was like an abandoned city, but with the unpleasant addition of having bits of the world fading away. A mountain had vanished, and the sea seemed to be draining. The glimmer of soft violet water was faint. In the streets, faeries, mortals, and half-fey slept. Not everyone was asleep, and most of the world was still in place, but there was no doubt that Faerie was destabilizing.

As she walked openly through palace corridors, she kept reaching out for the thread that unmistakably led her to Devlin. Finally, somewhere in the mortal world, she felt him sleeping.

Forgive me, Devlin, for what I come to tell you.

There was no doubt that it was Rae’s fault that Sorcha had abandoned her court; it was her fault that Devlin’s home was in danger—and she had to tell him.

As she entered his dream, she saw him leaning against a wall, staring at a closed door on a small stone building. The top was covered with jagged metal bars. The whole building was wrapped in thorns. It was an edifice designed to be foreboding, inviting no approach.

Rae wondered if the building existed in the real world: Devlin was resistant to flights of whimsy or indulgence. It was a High Court trait he clung to willfully, as if pretending to be like them would make it so. It had been more than a century since Rae had walked in the mortal realm anywhere other than Ani’s dreams, but she had a difficult time imagining that such a fairy-tale construct was representative of modern architecture.

What hides in that building?

Rae walked over to him. “Devlin?”

He turned and frowned at her. “What are you doing, Rae? Do you know how dangerous it is to come here? You must go—”

“You must come back,” she interrupted. “Sorcha has gone into a dream, and she doesn’t want to awaken. She’s… unwell, only interested in watching her son within the dreamscape. I can’t change her dream enough to force her to wake. The first time I went into her dream, she was able to resist me, and—”

“Her son?” Devlin’s brow furrowed; his lips pursed. “Seth.”

“You need to bring him back,” Rae repeated. “Faerie is fading. Things are vanishing. Faeries are asleep and won’t wake.”

Devlin glanced at the stone building. “She knows what you do… and now Faerie is unraveling while she stays in a dream watching her son. She would destroy Faerie mourning his absence. Such a thing is not logical.”

The lack of emotion in Devlin’s voice made Rae cringe.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “She made it so only her son or her brother could wake her. I don’t know him… and she’s so obsessed with watching him. I’m not sure she’ll wake without him.”

Devlin scowled. “Seth shall be made to come to Faerie.”

“Do you know where he is?” Rae asked.

“I do. He’s the one she sends me to see.” Devlin’s emotions, usually so clear to her when they were together in a dream or in his body, were locked away as he spoke.

“Dev?”

“He’ll be there whether or not he wants to.” Devlin glanced again at the stone building. “Sorcha never told me.”

Rae reached out and touched his arm.

He looked at her.

“Told you what?” Rae asked.

“Her secrets.” Devlin looked at Rae’s hand and then at the building. “But I never told her mine either.”

Rae reached out with her other hand and touched his cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was Sorcha when I met her. I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “She was already unwell. That’s why she ordered me to stay in the mortal world. I should have—I don’t know. I don’t know what I should’ve done. How did I not know she had a son?”

He sounded lost as he spoke, and Rae felt useless to help. She couldn’t lie and promise that all would be well, not to him.

“I would fix it all if I could,” she murmured. Her hand was still on his face, and he was not pushing her away as he had done before when she offered him her affection. “I can’t fix this. She instructed that only you or Seth could awaken her. I tried to talk to her. I went to her and… she doesn’t care. She’s the Queen of Order, and she doesn’t seem to care at all.”

“Is it wrong to want something other than the life one has?” Devlin leaned his head against hers. “That’s what Sorcha has done, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Rae kept her voice gentle. “But she’s not thinking of the lives dependent on her.”

Devlin laughed mirthlessly. “I won’t fail Faerie. I never have.”

“I know.” Rae smiled at him. “You are different from her. Stronger.”

“No, I’m not. I understand what Sorcha is doing. Love makes you foolish. It makes you throw every bit of logic away, do stupid things, dangerous things.” His eyes flashed shimmers of color as he spoke. “It’s her. Ani. She’s the new life I want. For her, I might throw the world into chaos.”

“No.” Rae put her hands on his shoulders before he could retreat. “Even now, you would think of the good of Faerie. Unlike Sorcha, you’ve spent eternity balancing passion and your practicality. If you were a king, you’d still protect your court. She would too, if she wasn’t unwell.”

Devlin caught Rae’s gaze. He stared at her silently for several moments before saying, “You came to me in a dream in the mortal world… because of Ani.”

Rae stepped backward, putting distance between them.

“You keep secrets from me, Rae,” he said.

She opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a hand. “I know you do, and I’m not asking what they are. What I need to know is whether Ani is safer with me in Faerie or here without me.”

“I can’t tell you that,” Rae whispered. “She is important. Forgive me for what I cannot say, but… treasure her. She is dangerous, lethal, but she’s also essential. I would give my life… what there is of it… to keep her at your side. Treat her with the care I know you harbor for me.”

Devlin stared at her as if he would read secrets from her skin. Then he nodded. “What happens when you return to Faerie?”

“It depends on if there’s anything to return to,” Rae admitted. “It’s disappearing too quickly to predict. I’m not sure how long Faerie will last if she doesn’t wake.”