Court of Midnight - Lucinda Dark Page 0,1

it when he called me that. They—my Princes—could call me that, but he couldn't. He ignored the sound and continued. "The Court of Midnight possesses old magic, ancient and dangerous magic. We were the ones called upon when Courts of old needed to be taught a lesson."

When Courts of old needed to be taught a lesson … My lips parted and shock rocketed through me. He couldn't mean what I thought he meant. Did that mean … was his Court—Orion's Court—responsible for the loss of the Brightling Court?

A cruel, twisted sneer lit his face. "I can see you understand," he said. "Midnight is the power that steals all other magic. We are not life. We are death incarnate. With such power comes a great deal of tediousness. What does one do when you have all of the power of the world, hmmm?"

My muscles jumped and shook. Anger poured through me, and yet, I couldn't move. I simply stood there and watched him, cautious, confused, and yes, even a little scared. It wasn't a Fae that stood before me but a monster.

"Orion, of course, was always a little different. When heirs are young, they are sent away to other Courts to begin their training. He met Sorrell and Roan at the Court of Frost and Court of Crimson and when The Crimson Queen decided to step down from her Court to give her son some ruling experience, well, it came as no shock to me when Orion leapt at the chance to join him. He always was a weakling."

"He's not weak!" I snapped. My skin heated. My face flamed. Something deep within me burned with the agonizing heat of the sun and it made me want to melt his smug face off. "Orion is one of the strongest, bravest men I know. If anything—you're the weak one."

Tyr's eyes widened for merely a fraction of a moment before he burst out laughing. "Truly amusing," he barked. "I almost believed you there for a moment myself."

"You should believe me," I said through gritted teeth. My hands clenched into fists. I wanted so badly to hit him, but I didn't trust that it wouldn't come back to bite me in the ass. "I'm serious."

"I'm sure you are," he replied, sounding arrogant in his sarcasm, "but you keep interrupting me. Don't you want to know why I did this?" He waved his hand to the stone prison.

I clamped my lips shut.

He grinned. "There, now, that's better. Keep your pretty mouth shut and you might just make it out of this alive," he offered. I'd show him a pretty face. I bet his face would look a whole lot prettier with a couple of bruises. My previous anger towards Ariana held no candle to the fury I felt for this man.

"Now," he continued, "as I was saying. Yes, I began this endeavor out of boredom—the whole betrayal thing really adds some spice to life, don't you think? Humans are so easy to manipulate. They ignore magic that's right before their eyes." He lifted his hand and a flame so dark it was blue danced at his fingertips, illuminating his face in a grotesque mass of shadows and dancing light before it disappeared. "They'll believe what they want to believe and if you use it against them, they aren't even smart enough to realize."

Tyr pushed away from the wall and took a few steps into the room. I didn't move. In fact, I felt my body lock up as I pushed back against the wall, wanting to stay as far from him as possible. "Then a grand idea appeared before me," Tyr said, throwing his arms out wide. When he smiled this time it was too tight with a maniacal gleam in his eyes. "Why control only humans? Fae are just as easy to control? What if I could control the world? Everything!"

I frowned. My brows drew down low and I shook my head back and forth. I didn't understand. "What?" I blurted.

Tyr lowered his arms. "It's simple," he explained. "All I have to do is let them kill each other. I won't even have to lift a finger or dirty my hands. I am the player and they are my pawns. All I need to do is push them into place and let them finish the work. Afterwards, I'll be able to rule over the remains with no opposition. And you—" He stopped and turned to me. "You came along at the most perfect opportunity."

A sick