The Ordeal itself varied depending on the person: for some, it might be as simple as overcoming an illness or a bit of personal strife. For others, it might be slaying a wyrm or a demon. The greater the Fae, the greater the Ordeal.

Ruhn had been learning to wield his shadows from his hateful cousins in Avallen, his two friends with him, when they’d all gone through their Ordeal, nearly dying in the process. It had culminated in Ruhn entering the mist-shrouded Cave of Princes, and emerging with the Starsword—and saving them all.

And when he’d made the Drop weeks later, it had been Flynn, fresh from his own Drop, who’d Anchored him.

Declan asked, his deep voice rumbling over the music and chatter, “What’s going on?”

For a second, Bryce’s swagger faltered. She glanced at them: their casual clothes, the places where she knew their guns were hidden even in their own home, their black boots and the knives tucked inside them. Bryce’s eyes met Ruhn’s.

“I know what that look means,” Flynn groaned. “It means you don’t want us to hear.”

Bryce didn’t take her eyes away from Ruhn as she said, “Yep.”

Declan slammed his laptop shut. “You’re really gonna go all mysterious and shit?”

She looked between Declan and Flynn, who had been inseparable since birth. “You two dickbags have the biggest mouths in town.”

Flynn winked. “I thought you liked my mouth.”

“Keep dreaming, lordling.” Bryce smirked.

Declan chuckled, earning a sharp elbow from Flynn and the glass of whiskey from Bryce.

Ruhn swigged from his water, willing his head to clear further. “Enough of this crap,” he bit out. All that mirthroot threatened to turn on him as he pulled Bryce toward his bedroom again.

When they arrived, he took up a spot by the bed. “Well?”

Bryce leaned against the door, the wood peppered with holes from all the knives he’d chucked at it for idle target practice. “I need you to tell me if you’ve heard anything about what the Viper Queen’s been up to.”

This could not be good. “Why?”

“Because I need to talk to her.”

“Are you fucking nuts?”

Again, that annoying-ass smile. “Maximus Tertian was killed on her turf. Did the Aux get any intel about her movements that night?”

“Your boss put you up to this?” It reeked of Roga.

“Maybe. Do you know anything?” She angled her head again, that silky sheet of hair—the same as their father’s—shifting with the movement.

“Yes. Tertian’s murder was … the same as Danika’s and the pack’s.”

Any trace of a smile faded from her face. “Philip Briggs didn’t do it. I want to know what the Viper Queen was up to that night. If the Aux has any knowledge of her movements.”

Ruhn shook his head. “Why are you involved in this?”

“Because I was asked to look into it.”

“Don’t fuck with this case. Tell your boss to lay off. This is a matter for the Governor.”

“And the Governor commandeered me to look for the murderer. He thinks I’m the link between them.”

Great. Absolutely fantastic. Isaiah Tiberian had failed to mention that little fact. “You spoke to the Governor.”

“Just answer my question. Does the Aux know anything about the Viper Queen’s whereabouts on the night of Tertian’s death?”

Ruhn blew out a breath. “No. I’ve heard that she pulled her people from the streets. Something spooked her. But that’s all I know. And even if I knew the Viper Queen’s alibis, I wouldn’t tell you. Stay the fuck out of this. I’ll call the Governor to tell him you’re done being his personal investigator.”

That icy look—their father’s look—passed over her face. The sort of look that told him there was a wild, wicked storm raging beneath that cold exterior. And the power and thrill for both father and daughter lay not in sheer force, but in the control over the self, over those impulses.

The outside world saw his sister as reckless, unchecked—but he knew she’d been the master of her fate since before he’d met her. Bryce was just one of those people who, once she’d set her sights on what she wanted, didn’t let anything get in her way. If she wanted to sleep around, she did it. If she wanted to party for three days straight, she did it. If she wanted to catch Danika’s murderer …

“I am going to find the person behind this,” she said with quiet fury. “If you try to interfere with it, I will make your life a living Hel.”

“The demon that murderer is using is lethal.” He’d seen the crime scene photos. The thought that Bryce had been saved by mere minutes, by sheer drunken stupidity, still twisted him up. Ruhn continued before she could answer. “The Autumn King told you to lie low until the Summit—this is the fucking opposite, Bryce.”

“Well, it’s now part of my job. Jesiba signed off on it. I can’t very well refuse, can I?”

No. No one could say no to that sorceress.

He slid his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “She ever tell you anything about Luna’s Horn?”

Bryce’s brows lifted at the shift in subject, but considering Jesiba Roga’s field of work, she’d be the one to ask.

“She had me look for it two years ago,” Bryce said warily. “But it was a dead end. Why?”

“Never mind.” He eyed the small gold amulet around his sister’s neck. At least Jesiba gave her that much protection. Expensive protection, too—and powerful. Archesian amulets didn’t come cheap, not when there were only a few in the world. He nodded to it. “Don’t take that off.”

Bryce rolled her eyes. “Does everyone in this city think I’m dumb?”

“I mean it. Beyond the shit you do for work, if you’re looking for someone strong enough to summon a demon like that, don’t take that necklace off.” At least he could remind her to be smart.

She just opened the door. “If you hear anything about the Viper Queen, call me.”

Ruhn stiffened, his heart thundering. “Do not provoke her.”

“Bye, Ruhn.”

He was desperate enough that he said, “I’ll go with you to—”

“Bye.” Then she was down the stairs, waving in that annoying-as-fuck way at Declan and Flynn, before swaggering out the front door.

His friends threw inquisitive looks to where Ruhn stood on the second-floor landing. Declan’s whiskey was still raised to his lips.

Ruhn counted to ten, if only to keep from snapping the nearest object in half, and then vaulted over the railing, landing so hard that the scuffed oak planks shuddered.

He felt, more than saw, his friends fall into place behind him, hands within easy reach of their hidden weapons, drinks discarded as they read the fury on his face. Ruhn stormed through the front door and out into the brisk night.

Just in time to see Bryce strut across the street. To Hunt fucking Athalar.

“What the actual Hel,” Declan breathed, halting beside Ruhn on the porch.

The Umbra Mortis looked pissed, his arms crossed and wings flaring slightly, but Bryce just breezed past him without so much as a glance. Causing Athalar to slowly turn, arms slackening at his sides, as if such a thing had never happened in his long, miserable life.