Page 21 of Waning Gibbous

“Sassypants—” he tries, but her lips are already moving, words spilling out in a rapid, layered sequence. “Fuck, Ruby, this sort of happened once before. I don’t know what she’s going to do this time; everyone, get over here.”

Tiernan and Khol rush over, both looking at me with an obvious knowledge of our mate falling into a magical trance previously. My temper spikes; I did not know this was possible, but my anger is for another time.

Right now, we need to make certain she does not harm herself or anyone else.

Suddenly, she talks in a high, childlike voice. I look at the others for confirmation that this is normal, but they shake their heads. Her hands twist in her lap, clawing at the fabric as she mutters, “The fawn always bends, but never breaks. No one trusted the moon-child. Daybreak’s shadow eats itself. She’s not supposed to remember.”

I have no idea what any of that means, but we can analyze it when she’s not speaking like a doll in a fucking horror movie.

The air in the room thickens with the sensation of magic destabilizing. I lunge forward, pressing down hard on her shoulders to keep her grounded, so she doesn’t float away.

“Witchling. You are with your mates; do not allow this to take over completely. Push back against the magic with your own. You are strong enough to control this.” My voice is a low, dark rumble as I attempt to guide her through whatever is happening.

Revelin clutches her hand with both of his. His lips brush her knuckles as he whispers,“Fight it, Sassypants. I know you can do this.”

The leopard rises, prowling the perimeter of the room with clenched fists. He’s obviously worried and doesn’t want to make this worse, so he’s scanning windows and walls for any sign that the episode is being caused by something placed in the room. Khol stands in front of us, his arms folded and murder in his eyes.

Everyone is ready to snap if this doesn’t resolve soon.

Fiadh’s head snaps back, and for a split second, her eyes glow like twin moons. Then she slumps bonelessly against the couch, silent once more. I check her pulse—not that it means much if this is magically orchestrated.

“She’s breathing,” I say, my voice rough with relief. “But this was definitely related to what happened in that room. I don’t care if she’s done this in the past; she sat down and everything went to shit.”

She takes a minute to come back to us, and we’re all watching her like she might sprout a horn in the middle of her forehead. When she does, I can finally breathe—despite not needing to. Tier comes back over, standing by Khol as we wait for her to speak.

“Fawn. Daybreak.” She blinks, then squints at me. “There’s a traitor in Daybreak. That’s who killed my parents—whoever orchestrated it was part of the court, not some outside assassin. The fawn is the only one who knows which one. Morana is right.”

Khol’s brow furrows. “Are you sure? Last time you did the magic floaty thing, you just sparkled and glitter-dusted us all. It wasn’t like this.”

He’s got a point—this could be her mind straining for things she wants to remember but can’t.

My witchling shakes her head immediately wincing. “That… whatever it was... told me so. Something shook free when I was here and had the knowledge of my past, if not the memory. I don’t know if that’s a spell or enchantment breaking or if someone made sure I’d know, but I’m really sure. They betrayed my mom, too, so it’s someone who’s been around a long time.”

Revelin looks ready to punch a hole in the nearest wall. “That’s why they want you in Daybreak. It’s not just about your bloodline; it’s about shutting you up before you remember everything.”

I can’t help but feel a surge of pride. Even knocked flat, our witchling puts the puzzle together in seconds. “I believe we’re going to need a strategy for dinner,” I say carefully. “This court is full of friends and foes—too many to allow anything to be left to chance.”

She gives me a tired glare. “If I so much as see someone suspicious, I’m hexing them before they have a chance to fuck with me. This is bullshit.”

“That’s my mate,” Khol says, smirking. “Knock ‘em on their ass pre-emptively.”

Hopefully, whatever we put together for this den of vipers will be enough to keep our mate safe but not start an inter-Court incident.

We’re not that lucky, though—not by a long shot.

Eleven

FIADH

I’ve seen car crash prep look more graceful than what’s happening in our suite.

The place is an explosion of wardrobe trunks, vanity mirrors, spells fizzling in midair, and five people who would rather be anywhere but here. Not even the promise of a seven-course meal can sweeten the taste of what’s going on in this room. It’s so much worse than all the prep in Harvest, and I’m struggling to hold my temper.

No surprises there.

The Fae seamstress hovers behind me with the kind of nervous devotion only royal house staff can pull off. She’s wearing gloves thin enough to feel spells through, and the way she twitches every time I shift tells me the dress is as enchanted as a landmine.

“Hold still, Miss Morgenstern,” she says in a voice that’s way too soft for my taste.