Free Night's End by Yasmine Galenorn Page A

half-blood.
    Strict motioned for me to come forward, and so I did, slowly approaching, all the while wondering whom I would be facing. Grieve followed behind me, as did Check and Fearless. We formed a semicircle around the log, with Check and Fearless holding our backs, keeping an eye out lest anything should come out of the undergrowth to attack us.
    I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. The scent of winter was all around—the smell of ozone from the storm tinged the air with its acrid scent. The tickle on the back of my neck told me we were expecting snow-thunder. The world felt on edge, poised and waiting. Ulean swept around me, and I could sense she was both excited and nervous.
    Who is this? What’s going on?
    I cannot tell you.
    You know, though?
    I do, but I was bound to silence by Wrath. Now, though, you shall know. I did not believe this day would happen—and I am both overjoyed that it is happening and filled with trepidation. I don’t know how you’ll feel. Or what you will think about this.
    Yet another thing she hadn’t been allowed to tell me. Over the weeks, I’d discovered that Ulean knew far more about my life than Lainule had allowed her to reveal, and it appeared that was still the case. Ulean was bound to me, yes, but she was still enjoined by promises to the former Fae Queen.
    I was about to push her for further information when the owl began to shift form. As we watched, he morphed, shimmering as wings shifted to arms, beak to nose, tufts to ears. A moment later, there, sitting on the log in front of us, was one of the Uwilahsidhe. His jet-black hair was streaked with gray, which told me he was incredibly old—the Fae didn’t gray the way magic-born and yummanii did, not until they had reached a great age. The man in front of us had probably lived for centuries, if not longer.
    As Strict slowly stood, hands patiently folded behind him, Check let out a gasp and stepped forward, kneeling in the snow. Fearless looked as clueless as I felt, but Grieve—my beloved Grieve hung his head and slowly knelt before the aging man.
    â€œAm I the only one left out of the loop?” I didn’t like being the odd one out when it came to things like this. I never liked surprises—be they a birthday party or an unwelcome trap. I’d dealt with too many unexpected snafus and bugaboos over the years.
    The man stood, his clothes shifting to take on the appearance of a feathered cloak like mine, beneath which he wore brown trousers and a tunic. There was something oddly familiar about him. He looked . . .
    â€œOh my gods . . . Wrath . . .” This couldn’t be my father, and yet the resemblance was uncanny.
    â€œNo, I am not your father, Cicely. My name is Hunter, and I’m Wrath’s father. I’m your grandfather.”
    And with that the world fell away.

Chapter 4
    â€œ
Grandfather?
You’re my grandfather?” I didn’t know how to react. I’d barely gotten a chance to know my father, let alone learn anything about his heritage. The only thing I knew is that he had been born into the Court of Snow and Ice. Check had been his oath brother, pledged to marry Lainule, but the moment she laid eyes on my father, the rest was history. Wrath had fallen in love with her and changed his loyalty to the Court of Rivers and Rushes. That my guard leader bore them no ill will both humbled and amazed me, but Check had become their most loyal supporter.
    Hunter slowly circled me, eyeing me up and down, his expression carefully set to neutral. I restrained any impulse to throw my arms around his neck and give him a hug. One thing I’d learned the hard way, starting with my mother, is that blood didn’t always mean fealty.
    â€œMy son did you a disservice by not telling you about your heritage early on.” Hunter did not look pleased. “You have much to learn. You know nothing about your people—my people. I