The bells tolled heavily across the Fae palace three times before stopping, the ominous countdown reminding everyone that it was midnight.

Baron’s execution was due.

The ground was so packed with faeries that there was no space, and the smaller winged faeries such as the pixies couldn’t have been more grateful for their size as they hovered curiously in the air.

All of their murmurs quieted immediately, a ripple of silence spreading through the crowd as every head turned toward the raised execution platform at the center of the courtyard.

Torches burned along the perimeter, their flames reflecting off the faces of the stern-faced Fae guards at the sides, doing their duty. The air was thick and oppressive, the fear from the people even reaching Violet where she stayed on the rooftop, watching the procession.

Then the doors of the palace opened, and her mother, Queen Seraphira, stepped out with regal bearing.

Even for an execution, she moved with such measured grace, her presence alone enough to command the entire courtyard without a single word spoken.

Behind her followed an entourage of guards with unreadable expressions, their formation tight.

And between them was Baron.

Unlike earlier, Seraphira had the grace to clean and dress him in the royal purple robe he was known for. But even that could not cover his gaunt expression or his empty sockets, dark and hollow.

A scandalized gasp rippled through the crowd as faeries who had not seen Baron since his punishment finally took a good look at him.

How far Baron had fallen that a chain was fastened around his neck to lead him, even though he could walk perfectly. He must have been feeling his surroundings through his other senses; Fae senses were heightened, after all

Violet had to give a grudging respect to Baron for walking to his execution with his head held high. However, that was where her feelings of pity for him ended.

She had almost lost Asher because of the decision he made, which was a sin Violet could never forgive. Moreover, Alaric had told her that the mind-controlling larvae he used on Asher could only be found in places of massive Fae death.

In one word, Baron had intentionally taken and killed his own people, farming their bodies in order to produce that larva. There was already suspicion that there could be more circulating around, and Seraphira had opened an investigation into it.

For a place so jam-packed, the crowd parted effortlessly for Seraphira to step through until she reached the platform and stepped onto it. She turned to face her people as silence fell completely.

"Loyal citizens of the Free Fae," Seraphira began, her voice projected effortlessly across the courtyard with magic. "Tonight, the Free Fae witnesses the end of rebellion."

Baron was made to kneel before her, Seraphira’s hardened eyes sweeping over him with disdain.

She said, "I once called Baron of the House of Briarwood my beloved. He was bound to me in marriage and soul. Yet he conspired against his queen, against his realm, and against the very people he swore to protect."

Baron made no sound or attempt to refute anything Seraphira had said. He simply remained still, waiting for the moment his fate would be sealed.

Seraphira went on, "He sought to take what was not his, and in doing so, he chose his fate. Let it be remembered that this is the hour Baron Briarwood would be sent to the great beyond."

Her voice boomed with authority now as she thundered, "While our own punishment may be quick and swift, let hers be eternal and cruel. Let the Fifth One judge him harshly unless he sees fit to confess his crimes, repent, and move on to rest with our ancestors."

Seraphira looked at Baron. "Do you, Baron, acknowledge your crimes and plead for mercy, so you may rest in the bosom of the Fifth One?"

For a moment, Baron did not respond, making everyone watch and wait. Then he lifted his head as if he could somehow see Seraphira, even with his missing eyes.

"Rot in hell, bitch!" His words were laced with hatred right before he spat at the queen.

What followed next was a quick flash of steel and what could qualify as the fastest execution Violet had ever seen—not that she had seen many—as Baron’s head rolled to the ground.

Startled gasps and murmurs ran through the audience, with some looking away as Baron’s decapitated body twitched and bled out on the ground.

"Let it be known that tonight marks a turning point in the Free Fae realm. No more betrayals will be forgiven. Every crime will be met with equal punishment. May the Fifth One bless the prosperity of the Free Fae."

Queen Seraphira took her leave, her gown trailing behind her, looking unaffected and undaunted by the renewed look of fear in the eyes of her people. They could see it—she had changed entirely. Now they were uncertain what the future held for them.

"Well," Asher said with a finalizing tone. "That is that. We’ve confirmed he’s dead." His eyes moved to the guards who had stepped in to clear what remained of Baron.

Then Asher suddenly narrowed his eyes and asked Alaric, "A decapitated body can’t switch bodies right? I like to believe that my enemies stay dead."

Alaric’s expression slightly creased, clearly thinking it through. "I don’t know for certain," he admitted. "Soul transfer isn’t dependent on the body itself, it’s the soul that moves into a new vessel. But in some practices, the condition of the body matters."

He paused, choosing his words carefully.

"Decapitation, especially, is believed to disrupt certain rituals since it severs the flow of magic tied to the body. I want to believe that is why Queen Seraphira chose this method. But if it’s purely soul-based, then..." he shook his head, "I can’t say for sure it would stop him."

"However," Alaric reminded him, "for him to actually switch bodies, he would need to find a compatible one, which is not possible, not without my device, and that is safely out of reach."

Asher’s gaze darkened. "Even so, we can’t rule out the possibility of Baron’s sympathizers going the extra mile to bring him back."

Alaric stilled for a second, then his eyes widened in realization. "Then his body has to be cremated."

A slow, dangerous smile spread across Violet’s lips.

"Well," she said, lifting a finger, a small flame flickering to life at its tip, "guess who can solve that problem for you."

She pressed the burning finger lightly against her lips, her eyes glinting with something wicked.

"Goddess above," Asher breathed, his voice low, and filled with raw admiration. "I’m so in love with you right now, baby girl."

Alaric shifted subtly where he stood on the rooftop, clearing his throat as he adjusted himself, his own reaction far less subtle than he would have liked.

Violet’s heart skipped, warmth blooming in her chest at the look in Asher’s eyes. For a moment, she let herself enjoy it, then she turned her attention back to the courtyard below.

With a soft breath, she blew the flame from her finger.

Below them, chaos broke out.

Shouts and startled yelps broke through the night as Baron’s body suddenly went up in flames, the fire spreading rapidly across the burial cloth.

The guards jumped back at once, abandoning their task, unwilling to risk being caught in the blaze. What they didn’t know was that Violet had imbued her darkness into the flame.

Within seconds, the fire consumed Baron’s body, leaving nothing behind that could ever return.

Violet yawned, then said, "I’m tired. I need to sleep. We have a long day ahead, and I can’t wait to see my other mates."

Asher quickly rose to his feet. "Then you should—" he started, but didn’t get to finish.

In a flash, Violet had already grabbed both him and Alaric and leapt off the rooftop.

"You—" Asher was left speechless. He couldn’t even scold her, not when she clearly knew what she had done.

What was he going to do with this mate of theirs?

Together, the three of them returned to their quarters, exhaustion finally catching up to them. Sleep came quickly, deep and heavy, each of them aware that by tomorrow, they would be leaving the Fae realm behind.

But the morning came violently.

Violet woke with a scream ripping from her throat.

Asher and Alaric shot awake instantly, alarm flashing through them.

"Violet, what is it?" they demanded at once.

"My back—" Violet writhed on the bed, her fingers clawing at the sheets. "It’s on fire!" she cried out.

Before she could say anything more, Asher tore the shirt from her back.

Then he froze, a sharp breath escaping him.

Alaric leaned in, and stilled just as suddenly.

"What is it?" Violet demanded, panic rising as the pain pulsed through her. "What’s wrong?!"

Asher didn’t answer. His silence was worse,

rage burning in his eyes.

It was Alaric who finally swallowed and spoke with a tight voice.

"Violet... there are words... carved into your back."

"What?" Violet breathed.

The pain was fading now, but fury was taking its place. Someone had messed with her.

She went still. Her voice dropped, deadly quiet.

"What does it say?"

Asher and Alaric exchanged a look. Neither of them wanted to say it.

But Alaric forced himself to speak.

"Come get your mate, bitch."