The witch's voice trembled. "There is nothing we can do."
Nate stared at her.
For several seconds he didn't move, breathe, or blink. Then slowly, very slowly, he took a step forward.
"What did you say?"
The witch visibly flinched. Her eyes darted toward the body on the floor before returning to him.
"There is nothing we can do." Her voice cracked. "Not against dark faes."
Nate's entire body went rigid.
The throne room felt colder. The scent of blood still lingered heavily in the air. One dead witch lay crumpled beside the pillars.
Another remained where Nate had thrown her.
Alaric stood several feet away, watching his brother carefully, and watching the way grief and rage fought for dominance inside him.
The witch swallowed. "The portals between realms are different." She opened up.
Nate's jaw clenched. "Go on, damn you." He commanded roughly.
The witch lowered her gaze. "The wolf realm and the fae realm aren't connected the way most people think."
