Chapter 1

There was no way on this side of oblivion that Oberon, King of the Shadow Court, was my father.

Father.

My father.

The words bowled around my head like lead balls.

Oberon.

King of the Shadowworld.

Ruler of the Darkness.

My father—?

Impossible.

There had to be some sick and twisted mistake. Some faerie trickery. Some colossal otherworldly misunderstanding that led to the perfect storm of events that had me locked in this prison, face to face with the being insisting the impossible was true.

Oberon, the man I’d recently come to hate more than any other being in this realm, approached me. “I think you and I should speak.” He said it in the smooth, commanding voice meant to bend others to his will.

He needed to get one thing straight. I was not now, nor would I ever be, one of those others. “Well that’s unfortunate,” I replied, “because I have nothing to say to you.” I twisted my hair around my finger until it formed a perfect curl and tucked it neatly behind my ear. Then I rose to stand on the opposite side of my dining room, putting a small table between us.

I’d been locked in this dungeon—by dungeon, I mean lavish chambers in the tower he’d imprisoned me in—for days now. A cage is a cage. Regardless of how pretty the bars. I’d been trapped here, ever since the epic battle between yours truly and Lorelei. The battle he stopped with his oh-so-nauseating revelation, that she was my twin sister, and he... our beloved father.

Not my best day.

Oberon’s brow furrowed. “How can that be possible, Isobel, when we’ve so much to speak of?”

I raised my hand and turned away from him. “Do not call me that. Not ever.” Then I fixed him with a hard stare over my shoulder. “My name is Venus.”

“Your name is not Venus,” he growled, and his fist met with the hardwood table. The anger that rumbled in his words shook the rafters like thunderous waves crashing against the shore. Almost as quickly, he sighed. “However—” He paused to further reign in his fury, “—if that is the name you feel most comfortable wearing, then I shall use it. Provided you answer to it.”

“Good.” I had no other clever retort where my name was concerned. Isobel was dead. Did he have any idea how depressing it was being called by a dead girl’s name? It was infuriating that he’d meddled in my life to the extent that he had. Breaking the spell binding Adrius to my soul. Revealing that if I killed Lorelei, I would die also. Squelching my powers and locking me in a tower. He was nothing but bad news.

Oberon circled me until we were face to face. “This situation must all be rather difficult for you to assimilate.”

Playing the concerned parent. Truly this man has no shame. I shrugged casually. “Not in the least. Would you like to know why?” I lifted my face to his again, this time with full hatred burning through me. “Because none of it is real. It isn’t true.” I spat the words. “It isn’t happening. And it will be over soon.” It has to be over soon.

Oberon's gaze hardened. “You will always be my child. Lorelei will always be your sister. It will not ever be over, daughter, because this is your reality now.”

I wave a dismissive hand as I put more distance between us. “Listen. I can appreciate the fact that you, along with everyone else in this world, wants to serve and protect the angelic Lorelei from any harm. However, none of that is proof that I am, in some sick and twisted way, related to her.” I eyed him up and down and made a face. “Or you either.”

Oberon moved to the far side of the room. With the snap of his fingers a pitcher of water was curried in, along with two goblets and a platter of food.

I was ravenous, but I would never let on. I was a prisoner here. I was being held as one, so I would act as one.

Turning away, I inspected my fingernails. They were cracked and brittle. Yellowed from too much use. Too little life. Dead. Like the rest of me.

“You must be hungry.”

“Wrong again,” I lied. “You are on a roll though, aren’t you? Wrong at every turn.”

He didn’t reply, but when he lifted the domed silver lid, the most incredible scents wafted toward me. He’d arranged to have all my favorite foods delivered. Manipulative monster. I folded my arms. Stubborn pride made me want to refuse his food alongside his allegations, to spit both of them back at his smug face, but my stomach made the most unappealing plea to be fed. Why suffer more than I already am? I decided as I inched forward.

He pulled out a chair for me. “Please, do sit so we can be comfortable.”

I took the chair from him and moved it as far away from his as possible while still being in reach of the food causing excess saliva to fill my mouth. Then I sat down, grabbing a warm biscuit as I did. Taking three rapid bites, I sat back and watched him. This man. This king of the darkest part of the forest. This Shadow Faerie claiming to be my father. Ridiculous.

I chewed silently as I studied his features. His eyes were dark. Like hers. His soul was also dark. Like hers. They could be related. He and Lorelei. We... could not.

Oberon watched me chew like a wild animal for a time, then said, “You must have questions of me.”

I shook my head, cramming another mouthful of bread to make speaking difficult.

“I know that you do. Let me begin answering the ones I can read, until you are ready to voice them yourself.”

I sat and listened as he pulled thoughts from the recesses of my mind. Thoughts I’d all but buried in an unmarked grave in my head.

“You are questioning how any of this could be true, and Venus—” He leaned forward in earnest, “—it is true.” He leaned back and templed his fingers. “A part of you knows this.”

My gaze fell away. It was an odd sensation being pried into in such a fashion. The last faerie to do that to me was Zanthiel. No coincidence they were both of the same sort. Cold and calculating. Dark and depraved. Shadow Fey.

I snorted and continued to nibble on my bread, while reaching for a handful of berries. Yet every muscle inside me was clenched in... anticipation. Why was it so difficult not to care what this man was about to reveal? It was all a lie. Every word of it had to be.

Except, I knew that couldn’t be. Faeries were unable to lie. One of their sole redeeming qualities, if one considered honesty worthy of redemption. I personally thought it overrated, but nevertheless, facts were facts. My stomach soured a little as the realization set in. Everything he was going to say would be truth. My truth. And it made me want to shove this sourdough biscuit into his mouth to prevent him from uttering one single word of it.