Fae war chronicles the c.., p.18
Fae War Chronicles: The Complete Series, page 18
“Hunt? As in—”
“There are plenty of animals out here we can eat,” I tell her, enjoying the way her eyes widen far too much than is surely allowed.
“I once ate a rat,” she tells me, nose scrunching. “A homeless man cooked it for me one night when I was shivering under a bridge.”
The visual image of her alone—cold—it angers me. What kind of parents would abandon their baby to such a horrible fate? “No rats,” I promise. “Though I do prepare a delicious rabbit if my men’s approval was any indication.”
She smiles softly. “You miss them. Your people.”
“More than I can say.”
“What about the others still in the castle?”
My mind drifts to Heelean, to Bea and the others forced to remain in such a horrible position. “I will rescue them once I have my men and weapons.”
The sun begins to dip, casting us in shadows, so I lean forward and lift the piece of flint I managed to find buried in the dirt. After lifting a rock, I begin to strike them together until sparks fly against the kindling.
Flames burn to life, devouring the smaller twigs and spreading to the larger ones.
Soon, we’re both sitting in the amber glow of the firelight.
“Can I ask you something?” Ember is not looking at me but rather at the skirt of her dress as she smooths it out.
“Of course.” Anything to hear your voice, my tormenter.
“Griffin told me what Taranus did to you.”
I swallow hard as my wounded soul cracks, yet again. “He told you of my wings, then?”
She nods.
“Taranus meant to humiliate me, to stifle the strength of the Rebellion. He knelt me before my men and removed my wings. He shaved my head, cutting my hair to the scalp, but he did not decimate it as he’d hoped,” I assure her. “The Rebellion was never built on one man but on the strength of many. I’ve no doubt that, in my absence, another rose to take over.”
Even as I speak the words, I pray they are true. Otherwise, I’m leading Ember on a wild chase for something extinct. And if there is no Rebellion—no true king—I cannot even begin to think of what will happen to the woman in front of me. Not if she chooses to return home.
Part of me, a twisted, damned part to be sure, almost yearns for there to be nothing left. Because if there’s no one to deliver her to, then there’s only me. And I will deliver her everything I have.
Ember stands, and leaves crunch as she makes her way over to sit beside me. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met,” she says. “I just wanted to tell you that.”
“I feel the same about you, Ember of Austin.”
Ember’s answering smile is half-hearted at best, but it stills the burning battle within me.
For now.
“Raffe!” Ember whispers directly into my ear. I roll over, not at all surprised to see that the fire has died. Some moonlight sneaks past interlaced branches above, our only light in the otherwise complete darkness.
Eyes wide, she’s inches from me.
There’s no need to speak because I hear them. Placing a finger to my lips, I slowly get up, pulling her with me. We creep to the trunk of the tree we’re sitting beside, hiding, the stream to our backs.
“We’d better find her, or Taranus will have our cocks,” one man groans.
“Keep speaking so loud, and you’ll alert her a mile out!” the other retorts.
“Little bitch. I’m so tired of being out here. When we find her—”
“You’ll do what?”
“I don’t know. Apparently, she has the power to make a king in that pussy of hers. Maybe I’ll find out if that’s true.”
Ember audibly gasps.
I glance down, and she covers her mouth with a hand, shutting her eyes tightly.
My hand clenches into a fist around the hilt of a blade I do not remember withdrawing.
One word, the darkness within me whispers. One word and we end it all. We can make them drive their own blades into their dark hearts.
I shake my head. Doing that would put Ember in even more danger because it would be unleashing something far worse upon her: me.
“You hear that?” the man says.
“I did. Come out, Your Majesty,” the other calls out, his tone tainted with humor.
“You cannot hide from us!” the first man says.
Ember’s entire body goes rigid, and I wrap my arm around her, trying to duck further into the trees. While I only hear two, that doesn’t mean there aren’t more nearby. The last thing I want is for Ember to be recaptured. Without the wedding vows looming over them—Taranus won’t hesitate to take what he thinks is rightfully his.
We move, steadily picking up pace.
Until someone drops directly into our path. “Well, well, well, look who it is.” Joaquin’s ear-to-ear grin is perfectly visible beneath a solid beam of moonlight.
“Walk away, Joaquin.”
“Or what?”
“I will do what I’ve wanted to do since you traded your soul for a seat in the castle.”
His humor is apparent in the way his grin spreads. The arrogant bastard doesn’t even bother to draw his sword. “You hear that, men? Rafferty believes he is strong enough to take us all on!”
My stomach plummets when not one, not two, but nearly a dozen more men drop down into the clearing. Ember whimpers, clutching my arm.
One. Word.
“We’re going to have some fun, Your Majesty. You like fun?”
“Quiet, Pani,” Joaquin scolds. “She belongs to the king.”
“Does that mean we can’t have fun? I doubt she’s untouched. Out here with him, the king will never know.”
“I will cut your tongue out myself,” Joaquin scolds. Then, he turns back to me. “Rafferty, you are under arrest for treason and the kidnapping of the future Queen of Faerie.”
“He did not kidnap me,” Ember says, her voice wavering even as she attempts to appear unafraid. “I ran the moment I had the chance.”
“You killed Lloren,” Joaquin accuses.
“And I’d do it again in the beat of a heart.”
His grin turns to a sneer. “Take them.”
“Duck!” I order Ember as the fae charge us. She hits the ground with a thud, and I swing out with the short blade I managed to steal before leaving. Tonight, I will leave with a sword off the backs of my enemy.
Metal clashes and the heavy crunch of armor fills my ears as the hilt of my blade hits the chest plate. Knowing the blade is not sharp enough to penetrate, I immediately lunge forward and grip the chest plate of the nearest fae, yank him toward me, and drive my blade down into his throat.
He sputters and falls to the ground.
I retrieve his sword and swing out, blocking another hit.
Ember screams.
I whirl. If one of them gets his hands on her, they can be gone in an instant. She’s running, sprinting through the trees while Joaquin chases, right on her heels.
Panic burns my veins.
His hand closes around her arm. “Stop!” I roar, invoking magic I swore I’d never use.
Every man in the clearing, Joaquin included, stops.
I feel it, the seductive power. I could stop now, but it feels so fucking good. Carrying the blade in my hand, I move through the clearing, passing the men who still have their blades raised. It’s not until I am standing before Joaquin that I stop.
“Rafferty?” Ember whispers my name, and I turn to her. The way her eyes widen—I know she can see the change.
“It was either this or your life.”
“I always knew you were a coward,” Joaquin spits out, frozen in place.
“Release her.”
He does as ordered.
“You will take your blade and kill every single one of the men behind you.”
Joaquin’s jaw tightens.
“Then, you will deliver yourself back to Taranus and tell him I am coming for him, right before you drive your blade into your own heart.”
He begins to move back toward his men. “You won’t get away with this!” he bellows as I grab Ember by the arm and rip her away from the carnage.
“What did you do?” she calls out as I drag her into the tree line.
Behind us, men groan, they plead, they beg for mercy, but I know that Joaquin will give them none. Because I own the fucker.
A smile toys at the corners of my lips. Given that I just traded a piece of myself, I should be concerned.
But I’m not.
Because I feel more powerful than I have since the day Taranus stole my wings.
Chapter 24
Ember
Sunlight streaks through the trees, illuminating our path as it sprawls before us. The mossy ground is covered in various topiary, the trees around us so thick we can barely manage to move through them.
Rafferty hasn’t spoken a word to me since we left the guards behind. I’d heard them crying out, screaming, begging Joaquin to stop as he did what Rafferty ordered—why? I still have no idea, and I haven’t really had the confidence to ask.
So I follow, silently, waiting for him to confide in me—if he ever will.
It was either this or your life. He’d looked so tortured, his words so broken as he’d spoken them; I could all but feel the weight of his regret pushing down on my shoulders, and yet he’d done it.
To save me.
Me.
Why?
I can’t take the silence any longer, “Why did you do it?”
Rafferty stops in his tracks but doesn’t face me. “I told you.”
“You said it was either ‘this’ or my life. What did you do?”
He takes a deep breath and turns toward me. The gasp leaves my lips before I can stop it. My eyes instantly meet his own—a gaze that is much darker now, rimmed with black, the golden color dimmed.
“Rafferty.”
“It was either them or you,” he snaps. “Or would you rather I let him take you back to Taranus? Back to a future of being forced into marriage, of being raped?”
“No. I—”
“You what?” he snarls the last word, and I take a step back, honestly not sure what the hell to expect. This change in him is so drastic—and then I remember the day in the cell. When he’d nearly lost it.
“The dark magic. That’s what’s doing this to you, isn’t it?”
He glares at me, and a muscle in his stubbled jaw twitches. “Does it matter?”
“Yes. It does.” Taking a step toward him, I place a hand on his arm. “Do you need to let some of your blood out?”
“Let some of my blood out,” he repeats the words, carefully, slowly.
“Yes.”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“Because you’re not acting like you.”
“You don’t even know me,” he replies. “Therefore, what gives you the right to decide what I should be acting like?”
“Rafferty.”
“You needed to be saved. I saved you. I’m not seeing the problem.” He turns around.
“If it wasn’t that much of a problem, why didn’t you use that nifty ability to stop Taranus before he cut your wings off?”
Rafferty explodes on me, whipping around with such force I jump back. My feet slip out from under me, and I hit the ground with a heavy thud. Pain radiates up my spine from what is potentially a cracked tailbone. Fun.
But that pain goes mute when he bears down on me, golden gaze even darker now. “You know not of what you speak, woman,” he snarls.
Fear ices my veins, and I’m helpless to do anything but stare up at him as he continues to advance. My attention is fully focused on Rafferty, so I don’t feel the icy tendrils snake around my wrist.
Not until it’s too late.
Something wrenches me backward, and I scream as branches and other brush rip at my skin. They tear at my clothes, slicing the skin of my back, my arms, my legs, as I’m dragged at breakneck speed through the forest.
“Ember!” Rafferty’s deafening roar is the last thing I hear before pain explodes in my head and everything goes black.
My skin is warm.
Too warm.
Sweat beads along my skin, slicking my hair to the side of my face. Slowly, I open my eyes as pain continues throbbing inside my brain. Every inch of my body hurts. Even my damned fingernails burn.
Vision clearing, I attempt to remain still, not wanting to alert whoever—or whatever—is lingering nearby.
Heat licks my body from a fire literally a foot from my face. The willpower to remain where I am is immense. Stone rises in front of and around me, telling me that I’m somewhere underground.
“You might as well sit, girl. We know you wake.” The raspy voice echoes through the cavern.
My heart pounds as I sit, and my vision swims once again. Every movement hurts; every breath aches. Lifting my shaking hands, I study the tears in my skin. Blood crusts every inch of my arms and what I can see of my ankles.
“Who—” I turn, having to twist my whole body, thanks to the stiffness in my neck, and very nearly scream when I get a look at the small creature behind me.
Wearing a black cloak, it’s hunched over with a face so pale it’s near translucent. Yellow eyes stare back at me from cavernous holes in its gaunt face. Teeth sharpened like knives are bared in a sinister grin.
“You were lost, girl,” it rasps.
“No. I wasn’t. What are you?”
“You were lost. We saved you.”
“I wasn’t lost. I was with someone,” I argue back. I try to stand. Pain shoots up my leg, and I drop back down, wincing as tears fill my eyes. “What happened?”
“We saved you,” it repeats. “We will deliver you to safety, and you will help us in return.”
“What—how am I supposed to help you?”
“You will feed us.”
My stomach churns. “Feed us?” I inquire, pretty damned sure I don’t want to know the answer.
“Your life will feed us.” It presses clawed hands to its chest. “It has been a while since we’ve eaten.”
I glance around the cavern, looking for the others, but see none. “Who is we?”
“We.” It gestures to itself again.
Swallowing hard, I scoot toward the door. The pain is so intense; every movement sends more tears to my eyes. “Please. My friend, he’s looking for me,” I manage through the tears.
“Your friend is bad. Very bad. We saved you.”
“No. You don’t understand. He’s not bad.”
“He is bad. We saw it,” it counters. Then, it turns its back to me and begins to hum a dark tune I can’t even pretend to try to listen to. I attempt to scoot more but fall backward, unable to keep going when my entire body might as well be broken. Who knows, maybe it is.
“You hurt me,” I whisper. “You dragged me through the trees.”
It whirls on me again, eyes narrowed. “We saved you!” it roars. “We will stop the pain—very, very soon.” Turning fully toward me, it shows me a long, sharp blade. The silver glints in the firelight, and I cry out.
“Please, no. I don’t need your help.” I try to scoot some more, biting down on the inside of my cheek, trying to swallow down the pained screams threatening to rip from my chest.
“You do need our help,” it says. Then, it takes a step toward me. “We will help you, and you will help us in return.”
“How is killing me helping!” I scream.
“Killing you? No, we are setting you free. You are in pain.” It gestures to my injuries.
“Injuries you caused by ripping me through the trees!” I scream. “Rafferty! Help m—” The thing blurs across the room and slams a clawed hand over my mouth. It shoves me to the ground and kneels on my chest.
“You will be quiet or else you will offend us,” it snarls. Saliva drips out of its mouth and onto my face. I close my eyes and whimper, turning my head to the side. “Now. We will take our payment.” Something sharp bites into the side of my face. My hammering pulse blocks out all other sounds as I await what is coming for me.
What’s been coming for me since I turned twenty-one: death.
But then the pain is gone. The weight no longer presses down on my chest.
Cautiously, I open my eyes just in time to see Rafferty rip the creature’s head straight from its shoulders.
Blood splatters the wall, dousing the fire, and he drops the body. When he turns to me, I expect to see his once darkened gaze, but instead, bright golden eyes stare back at me. “Ember,” he whispers, his words so soft I can’t help but imagine how shitty I look right now.
“Rafferty.” My voice is hoarse, shaky, and I let the violent sobbing take over now, no longer caring who—or what—sees me.
Rafferty rushes toward me and kneels, wrapping me in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
“I—it hurts.”
“I need to get you to safety before I can heal you. There’s always more than one Puka about.”
Before I can ask what a pooka is, cold hits my skin. I hiss at the pain, which is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt in my entire life. My sobs turn into shivers; my entire body quivering with the freezing cold settling around me.
“Shit. I’ll hurry.” He turns back into the cavern and begins to run, moving quickly as I shut my eyes, not wanting to see the headless creature lying on the floor.
We wind, turning corner after corner until, finally, Rafferty begins to slow. He sets me down carefully and moves away, so I curl into myself as much as my injuries will allow. Whimpering, I lie there, exhausted and aching.
I’m not entirely sure how long it takes him to return, but the next time I open my eyes, he’s kneeling beside me. “I need to see all your wounds,” he tells me. “May I lift your dress to look at your legs?”
“Yes.”
I close my eyes tightly as he pulls the fabric. It sticks, and I hiss through gritted teeth.
“Dammit. We need to clean you up, or you could get an infection. I can’t heal them if I can’t touch them, and your gown is sticking to the worst of them. There’s a spring here. I’m going to carry you inside, okay?”
