Fae war chronicles the c.., p.31
Fae War Chronicles: The Complete Series, page 31
“What were you scared of?”
“The pooka. They came so fast. I didn’t even have a chance to try and—” My throat burns, and Rafferty reaches up to cup my cheek.
“While we were looking for you, they relocated the camp. It’s quite amazing what fae can accomplish, aye?”
He’s trying to make me feel better, to make me smile, but all I can focus on is the dread in my belly. “I’m so sorry I woke you.”
“Don’t be.” He brushes hair behind my ears. “Are you in pain? I can try and find some—”
“No. I’m just weak. I’m so fucking weak!” I choke on the last word, my shoulders shaking. Being the victim was never my thing. Even when I got sick, I tried so damn hard to maintain my composure. But everything I’ve faced recently—everything I continue to face—it’s wearing on me.
When am I just going to die? When can I leave this all behind?
And then Rafferty’s hands go to my arms, making me want to stay here forever. I would tolerate torment every moment of every day if it meant getting to be with him.
Except, I can’t even do that, thanks to the dark magic in his blood.
“Why do these attacks keep coming? Is it possible that Taranus is pushing them through?”
“No. Pooka do not work for anyone but themselves.”
“What about that other creature?” If we can find a connection, then maybe—
“That I do not have an answer for, though I do believe it is unlikely.”
“I can’t take much more.” Tears burn my eyes and I swallow hard, trying to focus on anything but the horrible future that likely awaits me. Because even as I didn’t want to die, I truly believe this disease is the least of my problems.
Dying peacefully? Apparently that’s just another card not in my deck. Fucking great. I sniffle.
“Ember.”
I shake my head, not wanting to look at him. Not yet.
“Ember,” he repeats.
This time, I give in and tip my face up. Thick lashes frame his eyes, and when I focus on them, I can see the black around his irises has grown yet again. “You need to take me home so I can die. It will only take a matter of days, Rafferty. And with the Veil open, you could stay with me if you wanted—”
He shakes his head. “I’m not taking you home, Ember.”
“Do you not see what I’m doing to you? I’m a liability. Between the creature and the dark magic—”
“I will be fine.” But even as he says it, his gaze drops down, and the black band around his irises expands then contracts.
I follow his gaze and realize what is left of my breasts is all but spilling out. Shit. I pull up my shift. “Are you okay? Do you need—”
He pushes to his feet. “It is hard. Being so near to you.” Swallowing hard, he shakes his head. “Every moment in your presence brings me closer to the edge, Ember. But I’m starting to think I might not care if it costs me everything.”
His words catch me off guard, and before I can stop myself, my gaze drops to his mouth. Those talented damn lips. His hands.
“Seeing you bloody yet again—knowing I couldn’t protect you—”
“And that’s just it, isn’t it? I’m weak, Rafferty. Useless. I am not made for this world, and I’m continually in danger because I cannot protect myself.”
“Tell me you don’t care.” He completely ignores my words and steps toward me then sinks to his knees at my feet again. “Tell me you don’t care what happens.”
Truthfully, I wish I could. But that fall would likely cost him—greatly. And while I will eventually die, Rafferty will be left behind to deal with the consequences. “I don’t want that sacrifice to be you. Your honor—”
“Taranus does not deserve you.”
“I’m still bonded to him,” I remind Rafferty, hating myself for it. I don’t actually give a shit, and it wasn’t too long ago I was begging him to see that I was not his brother’s mate.
That was before I got so close to death, though. There’s no telling how much time I have left, and letting Rafferty feel anything else for me—it seems wrong. Especially since I won’t be here to pick up the pieces.
Rafferty’s large hands cage my face, and he leans forward, resting his forehead against mine. The collective sound of our breathing is all I hear as I try like hell to fight back tears determined to fall. “I cannot breathe without you,” he whispers. “Every moment of every day, you are in my mind.”
“I would be a mistake,” I tell him.
“A mistake?” Pulling back, he stares into my eyes. “How could you see yourself as such?”
“How can I not?” I sniffle. “I’m going to die, Rafferty.”
“According to the banshee, so am I.”
His response catches me off guard as does the crooked smile he gives me. “That’s not funny.”
“No? If you do not wish to talk of my fate, then stop assuming you know yours.” His thumbs stroke my cheeks, and I close my eyes, allowing myself to absorb every caress. “I do not understand how it happened, or why, but I do know that you are mine, Ember, for however long we have. And I will always be yours.”
A tear slips free, and I close my eyes, a half-hearted attempt to keep the rest of them from falling. My entire life, I longed for love. For acceptance.
I serial dated from the time I was eighteen to when I was diagnosed, hoping for what I’d witnessed in movies and books. Who would have thought the very person I was looking for was in another world entirely?
Or that I would find him on my death bed.
“For however long we have,” I whisper.
“Always,” he replies.
Tilting my head up, I swallow hard and meet his gaze. A sharp pain shoots through my chest, and I groan, clutching it as I fall back.
“Ember?”
“It hurts,” I whimper before grinding my teeth. My body grows cold, and I begin to shiver uncontrollably. “I’m c-c-cold.”
Rafferty climbs up beside me and wraps his arms around my body, holding me to his chest as he rips the blankets up and over me. “The bond with Taranus,” he all but growls. “It must be drawing from you.”
“I—” I trail off, eyes fluttering closed as I struggle to remain conscious.
He’s there. Holding me, cradling me, pressing his lips tenderly to my forehead as the rest of the world slips away and I descend into darkness.
Chapter 11
Ember
“You’re going to die.”
I open my eyes and push up from the ground. The grass is soft beneath me as I kneel, legs too weak to stand. Taranus stands across from me, his glare murderous. “Where am I?” I demand, though all he does is grin at me.
“You’re going to die,” he repeats. “And so is he.”
I shoot up, breathing ragged. The moment I’m sitting though, I am helpless to remain upright. Tumbling back, my head hits the pillow with a soft thud.
“Easy, girl.” Bea is there, pressing a cool rag to my forehead.
“Raffe,” I choke out.
“He had to leave for a spell. He’ll return, though, I can assure you that. Fin had to practically drag him from your side.”
Knowing he’s okay, that Taranus’s words weren’t prophecy but rather lucid hallucinations, makes it easier to breathe. And it also means that, just as the doctor warned, I’m beginning to lose myself. How long until I can no longer tell what’s real from a nightmare?
How long until my organs begin to shut down?
“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”
I shake my head. “I’m humiliated, confused, and tired, but there’s no physical pain right now.”
“Good. I made you a salve for your belly.” She raises the blanket over my waist so I can see a white cream slathered on my skin. “It will aid with the nausea.”
Tears sting the corners of my eyes. “Am I ever going to feel okay again?”
“Right now, you’re dealing with your disease combined with the bond forced upon you. Taranus’s magic is pulling harder now, likely because he is not going to survive much longer.”
“And what happens to me then?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Bea purses her lips. “It’s not going to come to that.”
Closing my eyes, I do my best to ignore the unease churning in my gut. “It might. And if it doesn’t get me, this disease will. I can feel it. It’s like there’s no relief now. As if it’s still attacking my body like it does in my world.”
“We are trying, Ember. If there’s a way—”
Cracking open an eye, I take in her somber expression. “Thank you.” Reaching out, I cover her hand with mine. “I am feeling a lot better.” I take a deep breath then open my eyes again. “In fact, I don’t suppose you could help me outside? I would love some fresh air.”
Bea looks seconds away from arguing but eventually nods. “Sure. But only for a few moments. We cannot overdo it.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” With her help, I sit and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. Then, she wraps an arm around my waist as I stand. The ground feels alien against my bare feet, and my legs wobble as I try to take a step. Thankfully, Bea keeps a sturdy hold on me, and I don’t fall flat on my ass.
With each step, I grow more confident, and soon I’m squinting beneath the bright light of the sun.
“Are you all right?”
“Better than,” I tell her with a smile as she helps me down the aisle. It’s lined with massive green tents, reminding me of the old school war movies I used to watch. Honestly, it’s a tad eerie, as if I’m not just in another world—but another timeline as well.
Bea guides me toward a bonfire where three women sit as they stitch fabric together.
As we approach, they look up and smile.
“You must be Ember,” a woman with bright eyes greets as she stands. She offers me her seat, and before I can protest, Bea is guiding me down into it.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“No trouble ’t all, lass.” She extends out a hand. “My name is Moregan.”
“It is great to meet you.”
“I’m Shana,” another woman with bright golden hair extends her hand as well.
And the third, a woman with hair the color of the sun, smiles at me. “Ashta.”
“What are you guys working on?”
“Oh, you know the men, always tearing holes in their trousers,” Moregan says with a laugh.
“Next time my husband does so, he’ll be on his own with the repairs,” Ashta jokes.
“You guys are all married?”
“Aye. Why else would we be sewing their trousers?” Shana questions, her light brow arching.
I chuckle. “I suppose you wouldn’t.”
“How are you feeling?” Moregan asks as she uses a blade to sever the thread in her hand.
“Okay.”
“Rafferty was in a right tizzy over ye this morning. Fin nearly had to knock him out to get him to leave.” Ashta laughs. “He is quite fond of ye.”
For whatever reason, her words hit me—painfully. He is fond of me, just as I am of him, but even with our affirmations last night, what happened next—the bond tearing me apart, the disease killing me—they are things that cannot be forgotten.
Not again.
I am going to die, and if he is this worried about me while I’m sick, what will my death do to him?
“What’s on your mind, lass?”
I glance up at Shana as she cocks her head to the side to study me. The move is quite inhuman—as if she moves faster than my eyes can process. “Nothing. Just tired,” I lie.
This entire time, I’ve been focused on what Rafferty could help me experience before I die, but I don’t know if I ever even considered what that death will do to him should we take the next steps.
Right now, aside from some stolen moments, we’ve managed to remain on separate sides of whatever is between us.
“Anything ye speak of in this circle stays private,” Shana tells me.
All the women nod in response. It’s been forever since I had other women to talk to—at least openly. Heather and Amber, sure, but even they were more focused on what was killing me rather than what I wanted to live for.
“I’m worried about what will happen to him once I die.”
Ashta and Moregan share looks. “Yer worried he will lose his control,” Ashta says, and I nod my confirmation. “Rafferty is—how do I put this delicately—a stubborn ass.”
Bea barks out a laugh and I smile.
“But ye will find no better man. Whatever happens, we have to believe he can keep his head about it,” Shana adds.
“It’s not worth the risk, though, right?” I question. “It can’t be worth the risk. I can’t even stand.” A tear slips down my cheek, and I wipe it away quickly. Though, based on the way they all set their projects down and focus on me, no one missed it.
“If what ye feel for him is strong enough, there is nothing that should stop ye for the time ye have left.” Moregan reaches over and rests a hand on my knee. “Ye deserve happiness for however long ye have, don’t ye?”
“You guys will be the ones dealing with the fallout, though, right? I mean, he can’t even look at me without the dark magic pulling at him. I see it in his eyes.”
“Do ye think it could be his control pushing him to the edge, though?” Ashta questions. “I’ve never seen my husband more relaxed than after we have sex.”
Moregan and Bea chuckle.
“It all feels so selfish.”
“What better time to be a tad selfish?” Shana questions. “Ye’r dying. I tell ye, if I knew I was on my way out?” She chuckles. “I would be doing whatever the hell I chose.”
“I don’t want to be the reason this world falls apart.”
“Ye put an awful lot on ye’r shoulders,” Ashta says.
“Quite a lot,” Shana agrees.
“You cannot focus on what might or might not happen.” Bea wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Not when you have such little time left. And if you truly believe you being together is what will send Raffe over the edge once you’re gone…you’re kidding yourself.”
“It just feels like accepting what’s between us is such a big step.”
The women chuckle again, their soft laughter welcome in this moment of heaviness. “I tell ye, if you think for a second he hasn’t already accepted it, ye’r a fool.”
I let her words sink in. Even I know I’m being foolish. And for the first time since meeting him, I wonder if maybe my reasons for wanting to keep him away are more selfish than me wanting to pull him close.
Is it me I’m worried about? That moving forward and truly loving Rafferty will make me weak when it comes to accepting my fate?
The women change the subject and begin chatting happily about their lives and their husbands as I do my best to force a smile when, inside, I’m in agony over a decision that I’m fairly certain I have almost no control over anyway.
Chapter 12
Rafferty
“What did you see?” I question the man sitting across from me, his face covered in bruises.
“Other fae,” he insists. “But their eyes—they were silver as the moon.” As he speaks, his voice cracks beneath the weight of his emotion. If I weren’t barely clinging to my soul, I might have felt bad for the poor bastard.
But as it stands, I’m simply annoyed he isn’t being more helpful.
“Silver-eyed fae? You must be mad,” Fin replies. “They’re nothing but a legend—a myth.”
“I’m telling ye’ what I know to be true!” the man roars. “I saw them with my own eyes!” In demonstration, he opens them so wide I can damn near see into his socket.
Standing, I turn toward the door of the house. We were lucky to find this man holed up in a house just on the outside of the village that burned late last night. As it turns out, his house was hidden well enough from the fray that he must have been overlooked by Taranus’s men.
Lucky bastard indeed. Even if the bruises and empty bottles of whiskey lying around his house paint the picture of a man used to having his ass kicked. Which makes his story even less believable than silver-eyed fae.
Not that I don’t believe in them. The ancient race did exist—Ember’s friend Wally is proof of that. But for them to be in Faerie? Impossible. Though—
“Do ye’ believe his story?” Fin questions.
I shake my head. “Until proven otherwise, we have to remain focused on Taranus. What have our scouts turned up?”
Together, we step out into the clearing to survey the destruction before us. The entire village was decimated to little more than ruins. And once again, there were no survivors—other than our drunk friend inside.
“Nothing. As far as they can tell, it’s business as usual at the castle.”
“Taranus back there?”
He nods. “Though, according to our people, he has not been seen by anyone since their return.”
“Not surprising. He won’t want to appear weak.” And if what happened to Ember last night is any indication, they are both running out of time. I tighten my hands into fists at my sides. I’m going to fucking lose her.
“What do we do with him?”
I stop and turn to face the house. I could offer him sanctuary back at the Rebellion, but men like that cannot be trusted. He could run off, come across one of Taranus’s men, and give up our location without so much as a minor hesitation.
It may sound harsh: but war is war.
“Leave him.”
Fin arches a brow. “You know he will likely die. If Taranus’s men don’t get him, the creatures will.”
“He is not our concern,” I tell Fin honestly then turn back to the wreckage. I’ve walked through it countless times since I arrived this morning, and even though I continue searching for something new, something to tell us exactly what Taranus was looking for, I find nothing.
