Queen of Fire

by K. V. Adair

  She looked down, ashamed. “He hated it, but the alternative was worse.”

  “What could have possibly been worse than that? What the hell did I do to make you hate me? Were you that worried about sharing his affection?”

  “Nothing. I don’t hate you, Morgan. I never did. I didn’t feel anything toward you.”

  “Then why?”

  “Because you were a threat to everything. You were safe there, but here? You’d have been killed in days. And that would have broken Liam. Destroyed him. I couldn’t face that. Even if it meant abandoning a child to evil.”

  Her words rang true. I tried to hate her for that, to blame her, but it had ultimately been my brother’s choice.

  “Why were you so sure?”

  “There are plots within plots within plots. You were a threat as I said. You should thank me.”

  “Thank you? Are you insane?”

  “If you’d been brought here as a child, right now you’d be under one of my brothers, a peace offering to my father.”

  “No. He wouldn’t do that.”

  “That’s exactly what he planned to do.”

  I didn’t believe her. I couldn’t. “He loved me.”

  She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Yes. Like he loved me.”

  I tightened my hands into fists, forcing down the nausea.

  “You never asked me what you came here for,” she said.

  “You’re vile and hateful, but you didn’t kill my brother. I know that now.”

  She nodded. “When he told me he was bringing you here, I begged him not to. I knew in my gut it was a mistake. And I was right.”

  “You think this was my fault? That I killed him?”

  “With your own hands? No. Not intentionally, either. But the only person who has more to gain by removing your brother and putting a crown on your head than you is the one who controls you. Perhaps the question you should be asking is who convinced Liam to bring you here after all this time.”

  “Who?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

  “There was only one person your brother listened to over me.”

  “Who?” I repeated.

  “Eoin.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  She wasn’t wrong. Eoin would have plenty to gain by offing my brother. He had better access than anyone else, too, and Liam had trusted him. Eoin had been the one to take Liam from the throne room after my introduction. The last time I’d seen my brother alive.

  My stomach hurt. It was too easy to believe Eoin was guilty. Who else so tightly held my leash?

  The door opened behind me. I glanced over my shoulder. A male I’d never seen before took two steps inside and then shut the door.

  He was tall, broad shouldered, with dirty blond hair and crystal blue eyes. On Earth, I’d have babbled like an idiot if he’d deigned to speak to me. I’d always had a hard time talking to attractive men.

  But here ugliness was far more rare than beauty, and most of it remained hidden behind appealing faces.

  “What do you want, Hogan?” Bryna asked, annoyed.

  He said nothing but took a few more steps forward. His eyes narrowed, and his tongue snaked out of his mouth to wet his lower lip.

  My intuition screamed to get the hell out of there, but he blocked the only way out. I could have tried screaming, but he looked like one of those who’d just be more turned on.

  The tent in his pants told me he was already close to there. I tried not to gag.

  My thoughts went to Feoras, who was supposed to be right outside the door. Did he let this brute in? Or did something happened to him?

  Bryna sighed. “Don’t be stupid, Hogan. If you want to keep your head, turn around and go relieve yourself elsewhere.”

  He licked his lips again, his eyes on my chest. I wasn’t wearing anything special or revealing, but his gaze made me feel naked. Vulnerable.

  “You don’t want to do this,” I said in a low voice, hoping I sounded more threatening than scared.

  “You’re right. I don’t. But I do my duty for my family, no matter how distasteful.”

  I scoffed. I knew his game. I’d seen it played countless times. Act like a dismissive asshole so all the women fawned over you. Nothing like a barrage of insults to get a girl wet.

  It hadn’t worked on me before. It sure as hell wasn’t working now.

  “How do you think the others will react if you harm me? Your family won’t come out of it unscathed.”

  His lip curled into a cruel smile. “Doesn’t matter. Once I implant my seed, they can’t touch me.”

  This time I did gag. “Could you please phrase that in a less disgusting way?”

  Bryna stood, getting between Hogan and me. “Does our family name mean nothing to you? Are you that desperate for a crown you’d put us all at risk?”

  “As I said, once my seed—”

  “Seriously, dude. If I have to hear one more thing about your seed, I’ll—”

  A sharp gust of wind cut my left cheek. I put my hand over it, and blood wetted my palm. I was too stunned at the sudden attack to speak.

  “Quiet, whore, or I’ll gag you.”

  Bryna walked up to him and pushed his chest. “Walk away.”

  Hogan sneered. “Or what, dear sister? You’ll ruffle my hair? You’re weak. You’re nothing. Just another disposable cunt.”

  Bryna’s hands fisted at her sides and a visible twister grew from the ground.

  He laughed, unfazed at her display. I was damn impressed, though.

  “You shamed our family. You couldn’t keep the king interested, so he found another hole to fuck. Father should have disowned you.”

  Her back shook, but whether it was from anger or pain, I didn’t know.

  “Walk away, brother, or I’ll make sure you never walk again.” Her voice was low but full of hurt.

  His hand appeared out of nowhere and struck her face. She flew and landed hard against the wall. Her body crumpled to the ground.

  I rushed over to her. We weren’t friends. I was pretty sure I still didn’t like her. But she’d stood up for me. And even if she hadn’t, I had a problem with bullies who smacked other people around.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  It was a stupid question. Her arm was bent in an unnatural way. Clearly, she wasn’t okay.

  She didn’t answer my question, didn’t even look at me, her gaze entirely focused on her brother.

  “When Father finds out what you did, he’ll—”

  “Father sent me. He has a plan. You lost the crown, but I’m going to get it back.”

  Bryna’s eyes went wide and all the color drained from her face. “You lie.”

  “You want to take that chance? Run, little sister, and let me take care of our dear queen.”

  She looked at me, horror on her face, before wobbling to her feet and running to the door. She turned and mouthed the word sorry before leaving, letting the door shut. There was a soft click as the door locked.

  I looked up, locking gazes with the beast. I had very little to defend myself with. Even with my uncooperative magic, I wasn’t sure I was a match for him.

  I tried to get to my feet, but my body was bound my invisible chains. I could still breathe, but that was only a small comfort. I opened my mouth to fling some insults, maybe about the limpness of his dick, but nothing come out either.

  My only shield against the coming horror had been taken from me.

  He was going to do whatever he wanted, and I couldn’t even voice my contempt.

  He stalked forward, slowly, relishing his power. He didn’t need to hurry. No one was coming to save me.

  I steeled my face and tried to stop my trembling. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

  When he reached me, he lifted me up under my arms and cradled me in his arms like you would a baby. His hold was gentle, even reverent, a stark contrast to his cruel words. He set me carefully on the bed, and laid next to me on his side, his head rest
ing in his palm.

  He reached out and stroked my cheek like an affectionate lover.

  His actions only served to terrify me more.

  “I’ll be gentle,” he whispered. “You’ll enjoy my touch, I promise. It could be a lot worse. Not all my kin would be so considerate.”

  Even if I could speak, I wouldn’t have known what to say to that.

  He shifted, throwing a leg over my body and lifting himself over me. He pinned my legs against his thighs, grabbed my wrists and put them over my head. The invisible chains made it impossible for me to move them.

  His hands slipped between the hem of my shirt. He massaged the skin with gentle strokes that made my stomach twist.

  I would have preferred pain. I was used to it. It was familiar, comfortable. But this was far crueler. To break me gently would scar my soul greater than any cane.

  I closed my eyes and focused on my power. Not even a spark greeted me.

  I clawed inward, desperate, pleading. I no longer felt his hands. I no longer felt his weight on my body. If I kept my eyes closed, if I stayed inside myself, I would be safe. Clean. Whole.

  A stab of pain gathered in my gut where my power rested. It grew tighter and hotter and angrier with each moment.

  Move, or he wins. He wins, and it’s over. Better death than being numb for the rest of your life. Fight, damnit.

  It was my voice in my head, my will, my power.

  I opened my eyes. Hogan was too absorbed in what he was doing to notice. He didn’t notice that my bindings were gone as well. I reached over, grasped the lamp on the nightstand, and smashed it over his head. Glass shattered.

  The moment his body was off mine, I vaulted out of the bed and for the door. He swore profusely as I struggled to find the lock.

  No door only locks from the outside, right?

  I found it, just a little indent on the side of the knob. With a click, it swung open.

  I rushed from the room as fast as I could, hoping my legs would carry me farther than he could catch up.

  I ran right into the arms of the beefy male blocking my way. I pushed away and looked around.

  Seven males, each bigger than a linebacker, circled me. Hogan was behind me in the doorway.

  They stepped forward as one, closing in with ferocious hunger on their faces.

  This time, Hogan didn’t need magic to contain me. And my own magic couldn’t save me.

  There was no use in trying. They had already won.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  There was no escape. No way out. Just surrender.

  I embraced oblivion.

  It is funny how powerful the mind is. How well it protected me from the horror inflicted. I’d had enough practice embracing my inner peace over the years, but it still amazed me.

  With my eyes closed, I focused on memories of things that had never happened. Trees that had never grown. Grass that had never touched my fingers. Words spoken in the dark and not here. My safe place, my refuge, my—

  Rough hands. Too many to count. Pulling, dragging, falling.

  The sound of cicadas in the tall grasses, the songs of blue jays and red robins, even the trickle of a stream nearby, filled the air. Strong arms around me, holding me, making me safe. Nothing could harm me in this place, with this man, nothing—

  Pinned. Can’t move. Can’t breathe. Strong hands on wrist, on ankles, on throat.

  The familiar scent of pine and dirt and him filled the air. I was home in a place that had never existed. The only true home I would ever know. I didn’t know if it was the serenity of untouched earth or the solid, comforting chest I leaned against that made it so.

  All I knew is I never wanted to leave, and no one could make—

  Hands. Too many hands. Here. There. Everywhere.

  “I’ve got you, M. They can’t hurt you; no one can hurt you with me around,” he whispered in my ear. “Trust me.”

  Trust, such a small word with such big consequences. I had trusted, explicitly. I had trusted those who had vowed to protect me, who beat me, broke me.

  I had trusted the kind words of self-proclaimed family, who twisted, tore, destroyed with the same tongue.

  I had trusted my safety to my knight, my hero—

  Heavy weight holding me down. Hot, harsh breath on my face. The scent of rotten meat and sour wine.

  I had learned, over and over, that the only person I could trust, the only person who could save me, was me.

  “Are you cold?” A male voice asked with a soft and soothing timbre. He wrapped his arms tighter around me, shielding me from the chill air brought by the coming night.

  I couldn’t stay here after dark. If I did, I would never find my way back to the light. Maybe that would be a good thing. Maybe the peace of the darkness would—

  Shivers from a bitter draft. Cool air raw, piercing, penetrating. Below the skin. Below the bone. Into me. Through me.

  The sun continued to descend toward the horizon. Streaks of red, pink, and purple painted the sky. They began to swirl, twisting together, creating new color, a kaleidoscope of every color imaginable and more. Magic.

  “Is it almost over?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

  “This time? Yes. It always ends, and it always begins. It’s the cycle of life.”

  “It’s shit. And stupid. Shitally stupid.”

  “That’s life. Life sucks, and then you die.”

  “You died. You left me. Why did you leave me?” I asked, sounding like a child, my voice breaking.

  He kissed the top of my head.

  “There are no answers. No cosmic truth. No rhyme. No reason. Shit happens. All we can do is pick ourselves up, pull ourselves back together, and defy that which tries to break us.”

  His words were familiar, but originally spoken by different lips.

  “What if I can’t get up? What if I’m too broken—”

  The feel of terrible, cutting, safe wind and the sound of deafening, agonized, sweet screams.

  The screams. The screams. The screams.

  Silence.

  His arms tightened around me. Warm rain dripped onto my cheek. The sweet smell of blood and death and him filled the air.

  “I’ve got you, M. They can’t hurt you, not anymore. They can’t—” There was a choked sob. “Come back, M. Come back to me. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. Please.”

  I opened my eyes. Aidan looked down at me, horror in his blue eyes. And guilt. So much guilt. I reached up and brushed away one of the tears running down his cheek.

  I smiled. It hurt.

  “Took you long enough,” I said. “Where have you been?”

  He pulled me into his chest, and I rested my chin on his shoulder. For the first time since I’d gotten to this godforsaken place, I felt safe.

  Blood surrounded me. Thick gobs soaked through the carpet and gripped the walls. It had stained Aidan’s clothes. I could feel it covering my body, hot and sticky, chasing away the icy embrace.

  It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. I’d seen it before.

  Just this time, there were more bodies.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  What happened next was mostly a blur.

  Shouting. Boots hitting the wood floor. Warmth as a blanket was draped over my shoulders.

  My mind tried clawing back to my safe place, back to my brother, back home.

  You have no home. You never did.

  But whatever respite my mind could have given me was unavailable. My mind buzzed with the activity around me, not recognizing it but not tuning it out either.

  The limbo, though disconcerting, kept me from feeling anything. Numb acceptance gripped my insides.

  It was Eoin’s voice that snapped me back to the present. “Where the fuck were you?” he yelled.

  At first, I thought his words were directed at me, but when I looked up, he was facing someone else. His jaw tensed, his lips set in a firm line. The tips of his ears were red.

  Complete and utter rage radiated from him.

&nb
sp; He was close to me, less than an arm reach away. I followed where his eyes were. He glared at Feoras with an intensity of a mama bear.

  I snorted at the image that conjured. Thankfully, no one heard me.

  I glanced around. Several people clustered around. Fae in guard uniforms held back the curious crowd. Deidre and her ben síde stood stoic and close to me. They were a barrier between me and everything else.

  Everyone except for Eoin and Feoras.

  Feoras didn’t speak, no matter the obscenities Eoin threw at him. His head was bowed, his shoulders sunk, and his breathing fast. Not out of anger. Not out of fear. He was holding back tears.

  “Where’s Aidan?” I asked, noticing he was no longer beside me.

  Without looking at me, Eoin responded, his voice a harsh whisper. “Away and cleaning up. The shit show is about to get much worse, Morgan.”

  The shit show. A bit of a mild way to put it.

  The bodies still surrounded me. No one had moved them or tried to clean them up. I felt nothing when I looked at them.

  They were nothing. Just empty carcasses. I wondered if Innis would be examining them as well, though there was no doubt what killed them.

  There were deep slices across their faces’ and bodies’ not unlike the cut on my cheek. Their skin, flayed like ribbons with perfect precision, sagged in places, exposing bone.

  It was a gruesome sight, no doubt. And I felt nothing.

  “Do you know what you’ve done?” Eoin continued to shout at Feoras.

  The logical part of my brain that still functioned realized that Eoin’s display was hurting more than helping. The crowd of witnesses saw their queen compromised and her advisor with zero control of his temper. Zero control. That’s exactly what this looked like.

  I reached out and touched Eoin’s arm.

  “It wasn’t his fault,” I said, hoping to defuse the situation before Feoras lost a limb or two. “I tricked him.”

  Eoin turned his gaze to me, and the rage in his eyes diminished. If looks could kill, his would only take me out a few days.

  “How did you accomplish that?”

  I shot a quick glance at Feoras, who still had a please don’t kill me look on his face, before looking back at Eoin, my face—hopefully—devoid of guile.