Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(202)

No.

The bad part was that we could see this beyond the glimmering, flickering, ethereal blue bars that formed a cage.

I looked up, seeing the bars curved in at the top, making an enormous, magical birdcage.

Well, one thing was certain, Minerva had a thing for birds.

Cora shuffled closer and I looked her way to see she was looking over her shoulder.

“Not good,” she mumbled.

I looked that way and went stone-still.

This was because the cage was situated close to some steps leading up to a dais.

And on that dais was a large throne that looked to be made of gray-ish white branches that swept out and up, ending in lethal-looking thorns.

Sitting on that throne was Pol.

And last, snuggled in his lap was Cora, the Nasty.

Fuck.

We all turned toward them in unison, letting each other’s hands go but tightening our huddle.

Cora, the Nasty was grinning down at us.

Pol was scowling down at me.

Fuck.

“Looks like those two found their perfect match,” Cora muttered under her breath.

It was funny.

It was also true.

No one laughed.

We all just stayed close and watched the couple watching us.

Unfortunately, Pol moved.

He rose from the throne, lifting Cora with him. He put her to her feet and slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight to his side.

She cuddled tighter, wrapping an arm around his waist.

And in that position, they moved down the steps toward our cage.

We all stood still and watched them.

They kept coming.

I fought my teeth worrying my lip as Pol continued to approach, every move he made he did it with his eyes glued to me.

They came to the glistening blue bars of the cage and I held my breath.

My stomach dropped when they walked right through.

The women shifted and did it shifting me so they could surround me.

But Pol didn’t stop close.

He stopped five feet away and the instant he did, Cora, the Nasty turned into him and curled both her arms around his middle.

Her eyes were aimed at Cora, the Awesome.

After I noticed this, I aimed my eyes back to Pol.

When I did, he lifted the arm that was around Cora’s shoulders and waved his hand in the air.

I hadn’t noticed it.

Then I did.

And I felt my lips part in terrified awe.

“Nice,” he said low, his voice sinking into my skin and not in a good way. “Steel,” he went on and my eyes darted to the shining molten silver hand that moved like a normal hand but was absolutely not. “It’s heavy,” he continued then finished, “But it works.”

The women pressed in closer around me.

“Yours,” Cora, the Nasty put in at this point and I tore my eyes from Pol to look at her and see she was still looking at Cora, the Cool. “Flawed,” she carried on and cuddled deeper into Pol. “Mine is perfect.”

Pol curled his arm tight around her again.

I felt bile fill my throat.

We all jumped as we heard the loud creak of hinges fill the space. Then we all looked over our shoulders to see the doors swinging backward.

In walked a round man wearing a red velvet cloak with black velvet breeches, exceptionally gleaming black boots and a shiny red silk shirt.

When he got closer, I noticed he also had mean, beady eyes.

He stopped outside the bars of the cage, looked in, his gaze moving straight to Circe.

Then it went to Pol.

“Is that one mine?” he asked.

“No,” Pol answered. “Yours is coming.”

The man looked back to Circe and at the look on his face, this time I had to swallow down the bile when he declared, “If I don’t get her, I’ll take this one.”

“Baldur,” Circe murmured low.

Fantastic.

“Watching them all these months,” Cora, the Nasty stated and we all looked her way to see she’d disengaged from Pol and was prowling a circle around us. “They all seemed so brave.” She stopped and tipped her head to the side, studying us. “Not so brave without swords at their back.”

Again, my body froze except my eyes, which shot to Pol when he said, “Seems I’ll finally get a kid outta you.” My breath froze when he continued. “Me and Cora, we get to raise yours.” He tipped his head Cora, the Righteous’s way. “And hers.”

Oh boy.

This was getting worse.

“Edith wants the ice,” Baldur said and we all looked to him to see him looking at Finnie. “She wants it because she wants the dragons and elves. She’ll be taking yours.”

Oh God.

And worse.

“Yours just goes,” Baldur went on, his gaze moving to Circe. “As do the other two you pushed out for that savage. For me to have the Southlands, the Golden Dynasty must fall.”

I reached out, grabbed Circe’s hand and her fingers tightened around mine the instant mine found hers.

“It’s gonna be f**kin’ cool, havin’ the wolves,” Pol said, and I looked to him to see he had moved to Cora, the Bitchy and claimed her again. “My woman, she just wants a place called Bellebryn. Likes the castle there. So that’ll be hers.”

I clenched my teeth so I wouldn’t bite my lip and held his eyes, knowing he was not done.