by C. A. Szarek
“Xander—”
“Aingeal, just tell me you’ll do it, if I tell you to.” Xander stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, wiping a tear away when it rolled down.
“Is it permanent?”
After they kill me, aye. “Nay. You can open the magic back up once we’re home. It will only work at all because we’ve been together such a short time. Our bond is still young, flexible. But it is still strong, as you see in the golden glow. In years to come, you won’t be able to shut me out even if you’re angry with me.” He’d been going for a tease, but the look on Janet’s face shouted that he missed his mark.
“I’ve…grown used to feelin’ you with me.”
“Aye, so have I, lass. My Janie.” He stared into her blue eyes. The emotion there made his heart jump. It was echoed in the bond, and she wasn’t alone in what she felt for him, though neither of them had exchanged words of affection—caring?
More?
It’s been mere days.
How can I feel so much for her?
Xander didn’t answer his question. He couldn’t.
The mating bond deepening was one thing.
He’d never considered it would affect him in other ways.
Which was foolish in and of itself. Mating bonds were rare, and scared most Fae, even those born with the most powerful magic.
Mating bonds were forever, and Fae could be fickle, especially with their affections.
They could never be torn asunder. They were known to connect people at a level Xander hadn’t understood until he and Janet had made love for the first time.
Bonded couples shared everything. Deep love. Mental and physical links that could never be replaced. Or bettered.
If either of them died, the other would soon follow—that scared him the most.
Janet’s life literally depended on his ability to get them back to Skye.
“Let’s go home, mò aingeal.”
A ghost of a smile played at her lips, and she nodded.
Complete trust—among other things he was afraid to name—traversed the bond. Warmed him all over.
He kissed her long and hard, holding her tight against his chest for as long as he dared.
Afterward, his lass, true to her strong nature, squared her shoulders and sucked in a breath when she exited the bed, and started to dress in silence.
Xander prayed to the gods for stealth and strength.
He had vows to carry out.
* * * *
Janet had never been so scared in her life as she slung the hide bag Xander had brought from Dunvegan across her body to avoid having to hold onto the strap. Perhaps she shouldn’t have arranged it as such. Then she could’ve clung to it with white knuckles. For now, she was fighting the urge, but her whole body shook.
He smiled when their gazes met, and if the circumstances were different, she would’ve melted on the spot.
Xander was hers.
When he closed the distance between them and cupped her face, she met his mouth without pause. She took strength from him—and their bond—as they kissed. She only wished it made her feel better—or more confident—that they’d get back to Skye in one piece.
“Come, mò aingeal.” Xander looped her arm in his and escorted her to the ledge outside the waterfall as if they were sauntering into the great hall. “Hold tight to me.” He drew her into his arms and pumped the wings she’d caressed, kissed, and explored so many times in the last two days.
The bliss of being with him for the last five days had almost made her forget they were in the Fae Realm. Janet shivered. She banished her fear of heights, and tried not to think of soaring high above the solid ground.
He squeezed her against his hard chest, as if he could read her mind—though as far as she knew he still could not. Although he said nothing, the move comforted. She felt it from their bond as well, and crushed her eyes shut against his shoulder as he slowly lifted into the air.
Her stomach somersaulted, and it had little to do with the ledge, then the falls, melting away as Xander rose higher. She still sensed in her entire being that her husband wasn’t telling her everything.
The sense of helplessness didn’t sit well, but she could do nothing, save pray they’d get the Faery Stones open and get back to the island where she’d grown up. Back to Dunvegan, her family’s stronghold, the only home she’d ever known.
Wind buffeted her skirts and tossed her hair as her husband flew. Janet buried her face in his neck when a look down made her heart skip a beat.
Xander believed everything would be all right.
She felt his confidence from their mating bond. Janet needed to remember that.
The rushing air continued to be the only sound that greeted her ears. She couldn’t watch the pink and purple trees when she’d tried to look around a second time, so Janet clung to her fated mate and prayed.
His flight slowed, but she didn’t risk opening her eyes. Sensations prickled up and down her spine, then her limbs, all the way down to her hands and feet. Uncomfortable tingling made Janet fight the urge to shake them out, as if her fingers had fallen asleep.
Xander gasped and she lifted her head, meeting his gaze. “We’ve breached the spell. Are you all right?”
“Spell?”
“They’ve cast a bubble over the area, but I cannot tell what type of magic.”
When she looked down, she tensed.
“We’re invisible; they can’t see us.”
They hovered high above the dais that held their only way home. There were two Fae Warriors guarding the sacred place Xander had told her they called the Field of Light.
Although it was dark, the crystals of the magic portal glinted, giving off light. They were shining and rotating as if they were a white prism, and someone was turning them in sunlight.
Xander grunted and stiffened against her.
“Xander?”
He pumped his wings and they rose higher. “I want you to close your eyes when we land next to the Stones. I have to take care of Mikhias and Ruark, and I do not want you to witness violence.”
“Are…you goin’ to kill them?”
“Not if I don’t have to.”
Janet nodded, sucking in a breath. She’d seen swordplay of course, and had had to dress training injuries, but she’d never been on a battlefield. Watching her clansmen fight in the bailey was one thing, but that was training. There was no real violence or tension.
“As soon as my boots touch down, my spell will be rendered useless. They’ll rush us. Stay close to the Stones. I will stop the Fae Warriors and open the portal as quickly as I can.”
Their eyes met and once again, she nodded. The utter surety she felt from her husband was the only thing that kept her from collapsing in his arms, or giving in to the threatening tears.
He kissed her, but it was too short. Still, Janet sensed even more determination from Xander as he lowered them slowly toward the glowing Faery Stones.
Janet winced at the dual shout, but her husband released her and threw two blue balls of light so fast his movements were a blur. She squinted against the brightness, but Xander was soon back at her side, studying her face.
“Are you well, mò aingeal?”
“Aye,” came out as a croak.
Her husband offered a curt nod. “I’m going to open the Stones. We’re almost home.”
As Xander dashed toward the crystal-topped pillars, she scanned the orange grass. The two warriors were a few feet from each other, each lying in a heap of wings and limbs. “Are they dead?” she whispered.
“Nay,” he called. “Come to me, lass. When the portal opens, we must hurry.”
Janet obeyed, watching as Xander touched the center crystal. Then he tapped the other four, one after the other, as if in order. Each lit at his touch, and humming filled the air.
Wind was born from nowhere, and she shoved her hair out of her face so she could watch her husband work magic. She got nothing from the bond, except her body buzzed with an o
dd energy. It caused no pain, but forced her to rock back and forth on her heels. It didn’t feel right, but she didn’t want to distract him, so she didn’t voice the worry.
“Something’s wrong.” His murmur was low; Janet almost missed it with the wind rushing her ears, but her heart skipped.
“What?”
He didn’t answer. Xander’s hands few over the Stones again, in the same order. Nothing changed. He did it again, slapping the crystals this time and cursing in what had to be Fae, because she couldn’t translate the words to Gaelic.
Fire shot down Janet’s spine, and a scream was ripped from her lips as pain came from nowhere. Xander hollered and she fought the urge to give in when her knees buckled. She reached for him, but her couldn’t return the gesture. His hands were glowing red, and he stood bent and frozen at the Faery Stones, his beautiful wings crumpled on his back.
Pain radiated from her limbs, but Janet fought to straighten her shoulders and tried to inch toward him.
Xander screamed her name, whipping his head back, and arching. He panted, and their gazes locked. “I cannot release the Stones. Magic holds me…burns me.”
“I feel it,” Janet moaned.
“Shut down our bond.”
“Nay!” She shook her head. Pain shot up her arm when she grabbed his wrist, but she ignored it, trying to pull his hands from the largest crystal of the Faery Stones.
“Lass, do it. I don’t want you hurting.” Xander’s violet eyes implored.
Janet frowned and pulled harder. Pain rebounded from the bond, and her husband winced. His hands didn’t dislodge from the crystal.
“You will not be able to free me. This was a trap. I was foolish.”
A maniacal laugh filled the air, and Xander cried out. His head fell back, but his chest heaved as if he’d sucked in a breath and he fought to meet her eyes again.
Boot steps sounded on the stairs of the dais.
Janet froze. A whimper fell from her lips unbidden, and agony still radiated all over her whole body. She tightened her grip on Xander’s wrist.
Her husband’s gaze burned her face. “Run, mò aingeal.”
Chapter Seventeen
Mikhias’s laugh was maniacal. The dark-haired warrior brandished his sword as soon as he reached the top of the dais. “You cannot open the Faery Stones, no matter what you try.”
The warrior mentioned nothing about the spell that was burning its way through Xander’s body. He tried to extend his wings, but was only presented with more pain. He couldn’t straighten now, and fought the fall when his muscles urged him to his knees.
“It’s a trap,” Xander repeated at a whisper, but his wife had still not moved from his side. She hadn’t shut the mating bond down, either. Her body was tight as she too fought the pain of the spell.
Janet’s sapphire eyes were wide when he met her gaze.
“Run, mò aingeal,” he begged again, forcing each word past his lips. His tongue was thick, glued to the roof of his dry mouth as Xander tried to combat the agony with his magic. He got no response from his commands. It was worse than when he was in the Human Realm. No echo of the powers in his body. Everything was just gone.
She shook her head and clung to his arm. “Nay.”
“Lass, please. You can stop your pain. Subdue the magic.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she glared at him. “Nay. I shall no’ leave you. Or be distanced from you in any way.” Her nails bit into his wrist, but it was nothing compared to the fire crippling his back, his wings.
His thighs seared as he tried to remain upright. Xander tugged but the Faery Stones only burned him more. He finally lost the battle. His legs buckled, knees hitting the planked dais with a thud. White-hot pain shot all the way into his torso, as if the wood was punishing him, too.
What kind of spell is this?
He was trapped, his magic gone. Xander swallowed the urge to scream. He couldn’t scare his wife any more than she already was.
Foolish idiot.
It’d been too easy. He should’ve known something wasn’t right.
He had felt it, when they’d breached the bubble warding above the Field of Light. Xander had ignored it, sure he could overcome Mikhias and Ruark and the way home would be clear.
Wretch.
Fool.
Idiot.
The words were on a loop in his head as he battled pain unlike any he’d ever experienced.
Mikhias, with Ruark on his heels, stalked over to Janet, an evil smile spread on his lips.
Xander’s stomach somersaulted and helplessness washed over him.
I have failed Janet.
Failed to protect her.
Mikhias yanked Janet away from him, and her hand slipped from Xander’s wrist. She yelped as the Fae Warrior forced her to her knees.
“Unhand her. Now!” Xander’s shout resulted in both Fae Warriors throwing their heads back in laughter.
“You are powerless, oh great one. Protector of no one,” Mikhias barked.
“Yer wrong, my friend,” Ruark said.
The dark-haired warrior frowned and threw his long plait over his shoulder. “How so?”
Ruark pointed his sword at Xander’s chest. “He’s a protector of traitors and humans. A poor one, at that.” They both found great amusement at the redheaded warrior’s jest, laughing again, and patting each other on the shoulders. Ruark flexed his wings, but Xander looked away from the iridescent skin as his own wings ached.
Janet whimpered, and Xander strained against the invisible hold on his hands. The crystal brightened, shooting a new jolt of pain up his arms, into his biceps. His shoulders jerked of their own accord and a shudder of discomfort racked his whole frame.
Pain was etched on his wife’s face, but she still didn’t push the magic that joined them away. She looked down, clutching her skirts with white knuckles.
“Do yer arms hurt, Traitor?” Ruark asked, one of his auburn brows arched.
“We could cure it. Cut them off?” Amusement rippled in Mikhias’s voice.
Janet was quietly crying, but her shoulders were square, her back straight. She looked dignified, despite their situation; his respect and love for her shot up.
Love?
Warmth spread across his chest, counteracting the pain. Xander tried to block the feeling from the bond, since it was such an ill time and place to reveal his emotions, but his magic didn’t respond.
However, if his wife felt it, she didn’t react. Nor did she look at him. The only magic he could sense was the mating bond and the spell that held him captive. Emptiness and pain surrounded him, except for Janet. Xander clung to it. Clung to her. He wished he could speak mentally with her. Reassure her. Tell her he loved her.
“Nay, the Captain said we do nothin’ until he arrives,” Ruark said.
Ice shot down Xander’s spine. It should have relieved the pain, but only served to churn panic up from his gut.
My father is coming?
As if answering a mental call, Fae Warriors flew overhead in groups of six, full formations landing next to each other, swords drawn.
Their boots hit the orange grass in line, one after another.
They stilled, holding their weapons high.
Waiting. Watching.
They would not act without command.
A great warrior, with hair as dark as midnight and a look on his face to match, landed at the center of the wings’ formations. His giant sword was already drawn. His armor was gold to denote his rank.
Father.
Xander started to shake from head to toe, despite the pain raging through his body. He swallowed hard and watched the Fae man stalk across the orange grass.
Mikhias and Ruark fell into position, one near him, the other beside Janet, and assumed respectful expressions and poses.
Even if Xander had his magic and could read the captain’s mind, he wouldn’t have needed to. Fury poured off his father’s form.
His dark hair was loose, and somehow n
ot seeing it contained in a warrior braid made him even more menacing. Black hair flowed like an aura around him, anger infusing it, too. His armor shone brightly, bathed in magic, and lit up the area of his stride. Xander’s father’s magic sword was aglow. It made his already deadly skill even more sharp. Death would be the result of even a scratch from the weapon.
“Traitor,” Captain Daegus boomed before his boots hit the stairs. His armor clinked as he ascended. It was the only sound, other than Xander’s rough breathing filling his ears.
“Father.” Xander cursed the tremor in his voice. He couldn’t blame it on pain from the spell. Even if he’d been on his feet, he would’ve trembled before the man’s rage. At one time, fear of disappointing Captain Daegus had driven his life.
Xander had had to fight for his rank and his place among the soldiers even before he’d reached adulthood. Had had to prove himself much more so than the next Fae raised as a knight or man-at-arms. Because of the man who was glaring down at him.
“You and I share no such tie,” Captain Daegus barked.
“You may have renounced me, but you can’t renounce our shared blood.” His voice gained strength with each word Xander pushed out of his ravaged mouth. He tried to square his shoulders, but pain darted up and down his wings. However, he didn’t break eye contact with his father’s dark gaze.
Captain Daegus’s jaw tightened. “You are a traitor.”
His father put magic behind the barked word, and it rocked Xander to his core. He felt Janet’s whimper more than heard it.
So did his father.
The Fae Captain’s eyes darted back and forth from Xander to his wife. He said nothing, but that dark gaze narrowed.
He sees the bond.
Xander felt it in his gut.
“Get him away from the Faery Stones. King Fillan demands an audience with the traitor. Bring the lass.” Captain Daegus’s orders were followed without question or delay, as always.
Xander screamed when Ruark muttered a spellword and ripped his arms from the crystal. His fingers, hands, and wrists burned all the way to his elbows, as if they were flayed open. Pain ate him alive.
