My fury isn't just emotional, it's botanical, noxious and spreading fast.

The town's pride-and-joy battle reenactment festival is in full swing. Think chainmail, fake weapons, and a level of enthusiasm that borders on alarming. The trouble is, fae are flaunting it, swanning around without glamours because they fit right in with the crowds of medieval infantry and overly keen LARPers. My temper is fraying. But there isn't going to be a fae incident. Not on my watch.

Lucas and I are already stretched thin, dealing with the excruciating black gouges in our Keeper bond markings whilst navigating our fledgling relationship—I've got decades of baggage, he's got millennia. There are issues.

But when Elivorn turns up, we have a serious problem. He's tracking my every move, whispering at the edges of my mind, twisting everything until I can't tell where my fury ends and he begins. Casting a glamour would be handy, but I'm failing spectacularly, sprouting hallucinogenic, toxic, irate henbane each time I try. I'm losing it, and the damn plants are freaking me out.

Worse still, the heart of darkness has arisen once more, and Elivorn has plans for it. We have to stop him before he destroys the festival and the town. Only thing is, my uncontrollable fury might just get there first.