“The queen stole you,” Lennox snapped. “You should have proven your loyalty to our court when I summoned you the first time.”

“My loyalty? It seems like I am simply your little pawn, moving around your game board based on your whims.”

His smile was crafted of nightmares. He held the key up. “This is the Silverthorne Key, little pawn. Do you know what it does?”

Camilla felt as if she’d taken a hit. She slowly shook her head, an awful realization emerging. Puzzle pieces clicked into place. Pierre’s obsession with the portal key, with keeping it in Waverly Green. The locket her mother told her never to let go.

Silverthorne Lane. The dark market in Waverly Green. The place where Unseelie solitary and exiled Fae bargained with mortals.

Somehow, some way, the key and the dark market were connected. And if Camilla’s growing fear was correct, she had likely created a direct link from the mortal world to this court.

“No.”

Lennox’s gaze turned ebony again, his hair shifting back to its godlike silver-white curtain.

“I see you understand perfectly well. Silverthorne Lane is a realm line. This key? It unlocks that doorway and leads it straight to…”

He walked to a silver mirror leaning against the wall, oversized, wide. Large enough for even the tallest human to pass through.

“Here.”

Lennox stuck the key directly in the center of the mirror, the glass rippling like liquid as he twisted the hexed object. Camilla stared, trapped in her cage, as the mirror flickered. Shadow and light, light and shadow. Images played across it, too fast to see clearly; then came sounds. Birds, people, carriages… the sounds of Waverly Green’s bustling streets.

“No,” Camilla said, again, rattling her cage. The iron burned, the pain a wild ache in her bones. “Please. Leave them.”

Lennox glanced over his shoulder, his expression one of egregious delight.

“One by one, little pawn, I’ll lure everyone from that city here. We’re in need of fresh fun in the Wild Court. And once Waverly Green falls, we’ll move on to the next. Now be silent.”

He cocked his head, then ran a hand over his clothing, magicking a new suit before her eyes. If Camilla hadn’t known how dark and twisted he was, Lennox would have looked like a fairy-tale prince. Except this prince was a diabolical king and this cruel king wasn’t interested in stealing hearts at all—he wanted to break souls. Beaming with false kindness, he turned back to the mirror as the first few mortals stumbled through, bright-eyed and dreamy.

Widow Janelle, the Lords Harrington and Walters, and several other regulars from Vexley’s circle stepped into the throne room.

Camilla pressed her hand to her mouth, biting back a scream. She knew these humans. Had attended parties and gatherings with them.

And they did not deserve the fate that awaited them here.

Their gazes swept around the chamber, then paused on her, on her Fae ears.

Camilla looked at them and screamed, “Run!”

THINGS HAD CHANGED inside the Wild Court since the last time Envy had attended a soirée there, more than a century before.

And not for the better.

Unseelie gatherings used to be sinful, delicious events. Where wine flowed freely, lovers paired off for a night of fun, and the king and queen ruled over all with dark glee. Art and passion were celebrated above all. When the moon was full, even better.

The entire Unseelie court had been crafted as an ode to the moon, the chambers all designed to mirror its shifting phases. Most of the castle roof was made of glass, allowing the moonlight to bathe everyone strolling along the floors below. All the furnishings were in silvers and midnight blues and plush black velvets. Little fairy orbs floated in the chambers and corridors, to make guests feel like they were walking among the stars.

It was ethereal, grand, otherworldly in a way that both seduced and relaxed. All the senses were fed by its beauty, and the wine… it was transportive. Addictive. The flavors rich and decadent and made to be savored. Spicy, sweet, sour, and robust.

Demonberry wine came close, but nothing tasted the way Faerie wine did. It found every fun, passionate part of a person and magnified it, giving them confidence to dance and sing and fuck and create whatever their innermost passions called for. As long as guests were consenting adults, the Wild Court became the individual’s fantasy.

Everyone wanted an invitation to the Wild Court back then. From Princes of Hell to witches and the normally stoic shifters. Lust even envied the dark Fae for their full-moon indulgences, honoring the heavens from which they drew their power.

That was not the Wild Court Envy saw now.

He walked into the Crescent Court, which had once been the most beautiful of all the chambers. Now it was dark, and not just because the ceiling had been painted black. Torches burned around the room, the fire heavily licking the air.

High above, guests had been penned in cages, like cattle awaiting slaughter. Horned Fae took turns taunting them, setting pokers into a nearby fire until the metal glowed crimson, then screamed along with the humans, whose flesh sizzled and scarred.

The sickly-sweet scent of burnt flesh wafted through the castle, the smoke prickling Envy’s eyes. That wasn’t the worst of the horrors or depravity on display.

Humans already chosen from their pens were tied to tables, their meat being carved from their bones while they still lived. Even for a Prince of Hell, it was horrific. Then Envy stopped short, recognizing Lord Harrington.

He was screaming as they peeled his flesh away strip by strip.

Bile seared up Envy’s throat, burning as much as the rage he choked back down.

Lennox had been a mischievous king, rejoicing in his wickedness, but this was beyond depraved. Beyond cruel.

Wolf sidled up to Envy, a dark cocktail lightly smoking in one hand.

Envy would pay a serious amount of coin to send the damn male on his way.

“Welcome to the new Wild Court.” Wolf sipped his drink, attention straying to a nearby fairy whose wings had been set on fire. “Home to the female you refuse to claim.”

Wolf tossed back the rest of his cocktail, then threw the glass against the wall, smiling as a courtier cursed him.

“If you think Lennox will treat her any differently just because he wanted her back, you really are a dumb fuck.” He twisted, dropping a mockery of a bow. “Your Highness.”

“She’s Fae.”

“Do you think he cares?” Wolf asked quietly. “Lennox wanted the necklace first. Camilla second. And only because Prim Róis kidnapped her. Do you think he’ll be kind to the daughter who refused to come home? Look around, Your Highness, does it seem like Lennox likes mortals? Like he would appreciate one of his heirs defying him for them? You were in Waverly Green for a time… notice anything familiar?”

A sick feeling gripped Envy. Lennox had targeted the city Camilla loved.

“How long.” Envy didn’t ask so much as demand.

“The mortals?” Wolf paused. “I thought you would have pieced it together.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” Envy snapped. He still hadn’t fully healed from his torture. His power needed to be replenished and he needed to get the fuck out of this court to save his demons before he couldn’t get out. “Is he only taking from Waverly Green?”

Wolf glanced around, lowering his voice.

“For now.”

“And how is he doing it?”

“Now that he’s brought Camilla back, he’s somehow been able to open a new portal. By uniting her locket with a key.”

“The portal key.”

Envy’s mind spun. The game had never been about him at all.

“What does the portal do?”

Wolf waved at the scene around them. “It lets Lennox come and go in the mortal realm whenever he pleases. Specifically, from the dark market. All these humans?” He scanned the room again. “They’re only the beginning of Lennox’s new nightmare court. This is what he brought tonight, a lesson for Camilla. Imagine a week from now, a month. We are outside the Seven Circles here. Our wards legendary. Even your king cannot breach this territory if Lennox doesn’t will him to.”