Born into the cut-throat Autumn Court, Eris Vanserra had been surrounded by monsters his entire life and spent most of his time scheming for the crown his cruel father still possessed. His world is thrown into chaos when an unexpected source gets to...
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ERIS
The day after the battle, Eris had taken pity on his mate, who spent the morning with her head over a toilet and took on the task of winnowing the bulk of the Autumn soldiers to the winter border while her hangover tonic kicked in.
Cormac and Reed were sent out to gather whatever cold-weather supplies they could get for the thousands of males braving the cold to protect the mountainous border. They knocked on the doors of wealthy families and requested their flannel, blankets, and furs.
After Astra had recovered, they visited the wounded and read reports on estimated losses, a task that sobered both of their moods. His mate didn't cry or complain, but a hollow look crept into her normally bright eyes. She'd never been in charge of the lives of others before and was experiencing the guilt and burden of sending their people into harm's way on behalf of a greater cause.
After forty-eight hours, her mood turned anxious over the situation in the Winter Court. As promised, they took the initiative to formulate a plan.
Eris and Astra winnowed to the mountaintop palace above the Hewn City at dawn, just in time to see the sun sliding up the snowy mountains. Once again, the air was warm, despite the many open archways and verandas. The last time Eris had been here, he'd been manipulating Rhys into a scheme that ended in him almost losing Astra forever, but now she stood at his side, ready to plot alongside him.
The Inner Circle sat around the informal dining table, deep in conversation over a large map of the Winter Court. There were sections left blank in what was assumed uninhabitable land, but Kallias was secretive and mistrusting so for all they knew, there were villages and towns carved into the ice.
Eris's sure steps faltered when he spotted a head of blonde hair. Mor looked up at him before her gaze darted down to the hand of Astra's he held. She said nothing, but her normally full lips were thin, and hurt shone in her brown eyes.
He inwardly groaned. They were long overdue for a conversation, but it wouldn't be had with her busybody family around.
For the sake of not starting an argument before he opened his mouth, he chose the farthest open seat from her as possible. Astra was either oblivious to the tension or didn't care because she plopped down in his lap rather than in the chair to his left. Being perched on his thigh allowed her to lean over the table to get a better view of the map.
"So, Azriel's-" Rhys began to say by way of greeting.
"I'm going after them regardless of what you say next, father, so I sincerely hope you have something useful to say."
Eris squeezed her thigh as a reminder to remain civil, but her father was used to her attitude and remained unfazed by her interruption, simply taking a sip of his steaming coffee before continuing. "Azriel's shadows have been able to corroborate what Eris learned in the Prison. Kallias, Viviane, and Fannar remain alive and seem to be trapped in one of their larger palaces as enemy forces close in."
