“Oh, is that your offer? You’ll let me still be friends with your wife? How generous.”

“Friends with our friend. Our Mati. Neither of you needs my permission for that.”

“You broke our pact. That comes with a penalty, Gwynn. You know it does.”

“All right. Punish me—”

“Oh, I intend to.” Brush clutched in one hand, Arawn stepped toward Gwynn. “If Mati comes to me the night before your wedding, she is mine.”

“What? You intend to seduce—?”

“She only needs to come to me. To hunt with me. If she chooses me on that night, she chooses me forever. That is the new pact.”

Now Gwynn’s temper flashed as he stepped back, his jaw setting in a way Ricky did recognize as Gabriel’s. “I will never agree—”

“Too late. You broke a pact. As the wronged party, I can claim a new one. I just did. It stands. A pact and a curse. Now run home, Gwynn, and see if you can keep your bride by your side for a single night.”

Ricky ricocheted from the vision, blinking hard. The sluagh stood there, her mouth open as if frozen in time.

“No.” He rubbed his face. “No. We were told it was their pact. That Gwynn and Arawn made it together.”

“They did, in a way,” a voice said.

Ricky looked to see an older man, fair hair shot with gray. Despite the age, he knew the face as the one he’d seen only moments ago. “Gwynn.”

“I did not disagree the first time,” Gwynn said, “so the pact was sealed. By breaking it, I gave Arawn the right to set a second pact.”

“I had no right.”

Ricky looked toward the new speaker, a man he’d seen once before, a man he now realized was the older Arawn.

“What you just saw?” Arawn said. “That is the truth. Gwynn might take the blame, but the lion’s share was never his.”

“I wouldn’t say—” Gwynn began.

“Stop,” Arawn said. “Really. Stop. Martyrdom does not become you, old friend. No more than petty vengeance became me.” Arawn turned to Ricky. “I’d rather you didn’t remember that scene. Much easier on the ego to think we were the more wronged party. But I had to show it to you. Gwynn never stole Mati from us. No more than Gabriel steals Liv now.”

“I know. I just—” Ricky ran a hand through his hair and looked at the frozen sluagh. “Bitch.”

“Agreed,” Arawn said. “But remember that, and trust Liv and Gabriel. Always trust them. It’s when you don’t that you get yourself in trouble, a firestorm of outrage and jealousy that ultimately consumes even you.”

“Got it. So the answer is…” He moved in front of the sluagh. “Go fuck yourself.”

The sluagh snapped out of it. “What did you—?”