Into the Fire (The Unseelie Court Book 4) by Gwen Rivers (free ebooks romance novels .TXT) 📗

“No.” Nightweaver shakes her head. “She wants you to know the Fate is still alive.”

I sag a bit in relief. I don’t believe Underhill had the power to kill Addy. It was the fates who trapped my mother after all. Hearing the confirmation takes a weight off my shoulders.

“Do you wish to relay any messages back to her?” The Valkyrie asks.

I think it through a moment. “Tell her to do whatever Underhill asks.”

Nightweaver studies me in that odd way of hers, head tilted, beady eyes fixed. “You want Nahini to help your enemies?”

I hold her stare unflinchingly. “If it means she might have the chance to escape, yes.”

The ghost nods. “So, she can free you?”

“No. I don’t want anyone else crossing the Veil. The FBI know about us and they won’t hesitate to kill any of us on sight if they can. Midgard is no longer safe.” As an afterthought I add, “Get that message to Freda, too, if you can.”

Nightweaver nods and then fades into the translucent mist that the dead of the Hunt dwell in.

I exhale a moment before footsteps sound from down the hall. The medic. I coil my muscles, ready to pounce. It’s time for me to decline the invitation to stay at Club Fed any longer. Time for me to get back across the Veil. To save my real home and kill my mother.

For good.

When the door opens, I groan theatrically, hoping a show of pain will throw the medic off stride.

“Is it your wounds?” The voice is matter of fact.

I nod, rattling the chains as I grip my stomach. “I think whatever you gave me for the pain is making me sick.”

She moves forward and I prepare to headbutt her when I spy two armed guards at the door. Damn it. This is supposed to be my escape. But even if I knock the medic out, the guards in this place won’t hesitate to shoot me.

Letting out a breath, I settle in to wait for my next opportunity.

With a full belly, Jasmine escorts Aiden into the empty throne room. It smells of fresh-cut wood and green and growing things. A live oak table sits in the center, with the infamous Green Throne situated at the head. Freda is already seated, her winged helmet on the table within easy reach.

“Jazz, go back to our quarters,” Freda says to her daughter.

The nymph looks from her mother to Aiden and then back. “But, Jord—”

“Now.” Freda’s tone brooks no-nonsense.

Jasmine squeezes his hand once and then retreats.

“There you are, lad!” A thunderous voice booms and a beefy palm claps him on the shoulder.

“Thor.” Aiden grins at the god. “I’m surprised to find you still here.”

“I promised your little dumpling I would look after the place. Besides, the food here is some of the best I’ve consumed in recent memory.” The thunderer pulls out a seat and drops into it with enough force to make the hearty wood groan.

No wonder the fey are worried about the food stores. Thor’s appetite is the stuff of legend.

“What happened to you?” Freda turns to face Aiden. “The last we’d heard you were going to help Wardon secure his heir.”

Aiden nods. “Jedda. And the boy was successful. The Gray Throne has a new ruler.” He looks in the direction Jasmine had darted off. “One younger than your daughter.”

Freda’s tone is coated in permafrost as she accuses, “And you left him alone?”

“I sent him across the Veil. I thought he would be safer there.” What he didn’t say is that he’d turned one of the four fey monarchs over to a giantess he’d hated his entire life. Certain details are unimportant and would only cause Freda’s infamous temper to get the best of her.

“I need to see Soladin.”

Freda scowls at him. “Didn’t you know? Soladin rode out with Nic.”

Dread coils in his gut and the wolf lunges for control. If Angrboda had been right Nic had crossed the Veil. Was Soladin with her, taking with him any chance of staving off Aiden’s madness?

“Then who lowered the air shield?” Only one of the four monarchs could command such magic.

“Taj. He’s Soladin’s longtime consort and the new Seelie king.” Freda sucks in a breath. “He won’t be happy to hear that Soladin’s been captured as well. He’ll want to mount a rescue.”

Aiden couldn’t blame the other man. All of his thoughts focused on getting across the Veil to retrieve Nic. “Where’s Seelenverkäufer?” he asks.

“Nic had it with her.”

Aiden shakes his head. Could nothing go right?

They fall silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Off to the side, a fire roars in the massive stone hearth—the antlers of a large animal mounted above it. Aiden recognizes it as the great stag the god Pan slaughtered while he reigned supreme in this court.

A man with dark skin and cat eyes strides into the room. His expression is grim as he approaches the Green Throne. “This is the wolf who burned the dead?”

Freda nods once. “He’s Nic’s….well, he’s Nic’s.” She shrugs as though she doesn’t know how to qualify their relationship.

Instead of sitting, Taj steps forward and offers his hand. “Your mate has told me much of you, Aiden. I am honored to have you here.”

Aiden gets to his feet but before he can take the fey’s hand, there is a stirring within him.

Bloodprice, the wolf whispers. Taj’s male had abducted Nic. Soladin isn’t here but the wolf swore vengeance.

We need him, Aiden tells the beast.

The wolf is poised to tear the Seelie king’s throat out, but at least he doesn’t try to wrestle control away.

Aiden refocuses on the king. “You know Nic?” And she’d told this man she was Aiden’s mate? His heart pounds. He will never tire of having her claim him as her own.

The large male’s eyes gleam. “Not as well as I would have liked. Do you bring news from the other courts?”

“I do, but there’s something I need from you first.” Aiden takes a step forward.

“And that is?” Taj raises one hairless