Clover was a hundred percent perfectly human. She didn’t have a lick of magic in her veins. Few did in Alandria. Even most half-Fae only had enough for parlor tricks. Kerrigan was an anomaly because she was strong enough with all four elements to join the Society. Another target on her back.

“She can watch your back,” Dozan said. His finger slipped down her jaw, tilting her head up to look into his bright eyes.

“Dozan,” she growled.

He grinned wickedly and released her. “Do try to stay out of trouble and come back to me in one piece, Red.”

“I’m not coming back to you.” She huffed at the insufferable arrogance and then tipped her head at Clover. “Let’s go.”

She refused to look back as they left the Wastes the way they’d come in. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She also didn’t want him to see how much she was flagging. Those drinks had really knocked her on her ass. Maybe it was better to have Clover with her.

“And you get on me for antagonizing Hadrian,” Clover said with a snort.

“Dozan is … Dozan.”

“Yeah, and he wants you bad.” She whistled low.

“He wants my power. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“That’s not what you were saying a year ago when you ended up in his bed.”

“Hey!”

Clover cackled. “All right. I’ll leave it be, but one day, you two are going to have to figure out this sexual tension. It’s uncomfortable to be around.”

Kerrigan rolled her eyes. “That’s not what’s important right now. It’s that Basem Nix is dead.”

“Gods,” she whispered.

Kerrigan couldn’t have said it better herself. The gods themselves needed to answer for this crime after all Kerrigan had gone through to get him in prison. There would be no public trial to show the world that what he’d done was wrong. He’d be buried six feet under with no justice.

They passed out of the Dregs and back down the main thoroughfare through Central. Kinkadia was made up of six main quadrants—Dregs, Central, Row, Riverfront, Artisan Village, and Draco Mountain. Row lay to the east, filled with wealthy, aristocratic mansions and sprawling parks. The Riverfront spread across the South River. The newly wealthy who couldn’t gain access on the Row were building copycat homes along the waterfront. To the southeast was one of Kerrigan’s favorite parts of the city—Artisan Village—with the Opera house, bookstores, and little Painter’s Row. Finally, they came upon Draco Mountain—the home of the Society and dragons as well as the tournament arena. It was the largest peak in the semicircle of mountains that surrounded the Kinkadian valley. And it was home.

“Never gets old,” Clover whispered as they stared up at the heights of the mountain.

“It really doesn’t.”

“I’ll leave you here. I’ll miss you while you’re gone.”