“You can touch,” Aubrey breathed, and I jumped. I’d been so obsessed with the weapons, I hadn’t noticed him stepping closer. The rustle of Vas’s wings told me he wasn’t happy, but he stayed silent and let me handle it.

I took a careful step away, and, to his credit, Aubrey stayed put. If he’d attempted to stalk me in his territory, I would’ve had to shove a knife somewhere he really didn’t want a blade. But thankfully, he was clearly taking no for an answer.

His gaze dropped to my arm and he shot me a half-smile. I let out a low growl. The flirting suddenly made sense. Paranormal males couldn’t help but stroke their own egos, and Aubrey saw Samael’s claim as a challenge. These jackasses needed to be put in their place.

I opened my mouth to do just that, and my gaze caught on a hooked blade behind him. The sickle sword was about 20 inches long, with an inside curve that was used to pull a shield aside or trap an opponent’s arm.

“A khopesh,” I blurted out. My trainer Edward had been something of a history buff, and he’d taught me everything he knew about weapons through the ages.

He smiled. “This is a very special khopesh… but I won’t bore you.”

“I’m not bored.”

He grinned at me, dropping the flirtation. I got the feeling his flirtatious act was automatic for him, and now that he knew I wasn’t interested, his boyish smile was so compelling I couldn’t help but grin back.

“My cousin was obsessed with the boy king Tutankhamun. She had grown bored in the light fae realm and the portal she slipped through took her to Egypt, where she grew enamored with the child, planning to heal him of his ailments.

“It is… difficult for light fae to bear children. My people had begun looking to mortals to help grow our numbers, but my cousin had recently lost a child.”

Old grief twisted his face and I reached out and squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry.”

He placed his hand on mine. “You’re very kind,” he told me. “Her child was to be a boy, and something about the young king softened her heart. She had petitioned our king to heal him— back then, the fae did not have the same freedoms we have now.”

I knew a little about King Tut. He’d been a sickly kid, likely because of so much inbreeding within the Egyptian royal family. When he died, he’d had malaria, and his left leg had been broken and infected.

“What happened?”

“Our king did not often give permission to meddle in the lives of mortals— unless of course, it was to kidnap them for our own population growth.” He gave me a wry smile.

“The king said no?” Vas stepped closer, obviously intrigued despite himself.