by Donna Grant
His chest rose as he pulled in a long breath. “I was sent to Killarney to find Bran’s descendants—three sisters. Turns out, he wanted something on their land. Somehow, in all of it, I fell in love with the eldest, Ettie.”
“I’m glad for you.” She waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she said, “Now, how about the real reason you’re here? And since they sent you, it must be bad.”
He shook his head, grinning. “You always think the worst.”
“Tell me I’m wrong,” she said.
His smile faded. After a moment of staring, he walked into the chamber and looked around at the shelves of books. “The Skye Druids keep meticulous records, don’t they?”
“Daire,” she warned.
He stopped and dropped his chin to his chest for a heartbeat. “We know about Balladyn’s decree to the Dark regarding the humans.”
We. In other words, the Reapers. And the decree was that Balladyn—her best friend and now ex-lover—gave the Dark he now commanded free rein to kill as many mortals as they wanted.
That went against everything the Dragon Kings believed. It— She halted her thoughts. She was a Fae. Even the Light had sex with humans. Granted, they didn’t kill like the Dark did, but she shouldn’t be so outraged by Balladyn’s command.
And if she weren’t still so wrapped up in the Dragon Kings, she wouldn’t be.
When she raised her gaze, Daire was watching her. “So you know what Balladyn has done. You’ve had that information as soon as his decree went out. This is the last time I’m going to ask why you sought me out here.”
“I thought you’d be less likely to get angry and start glowing if you were aware that this is the compound of the Skye Druids and that there are many humans around.”
Rhi rolled her eyes. “Wow, dude. You really think what you’ve got to tell me will send me right off the rails?”
“You have been through a lot lately with your banishment and all.”
As if she needed to be reminded of that. “Get on with it, smartass.”
Daire looked at the bookshelf for a moment. Then his silver eyes slid to her. “You were at the Dark Palace recently. Veiled.”
Well, shit. Rhi had gone in an attempt to see Balladyn and find out if he’d changed as much as she thought he had. “Only a Reaper can see another Fae who’s veiled. What were you doing there?”
“I wasn’t,” he said.
Rhi lifted a hand and looked down at her newly trimmed nails painted with That’s What Friends Are Thor. The brown was paired with the glittery Gift of Gold That Never Gets Old, each finger an alternating color. Her nails grew fast, and she’d let them get pretty long before having Jesse trim them, not that the length mattered at all in the designs.
“Rhi?” he pressed.
She raised a brow, reminded that she wasn’t alone. “What? I’m the one who asked you a question.”
“I asked first.”
“What are we, five?”
He looked away, annoyance in the tightening of his face and body. “Fine,” he bit out before swiveling his head back to her. “Reapers were there. As you’ve figured out. And it’s Reaper business.”
In other words, none of her damn business. “Funny how Death can get all up in my life, have me followed, learn my friends, enemies, decisions, lovers, how I like sex, and so on. But you can’t answer a simple question. And here I thought we were friends.”
“Rhi,” he said in a low voice filled with frustration—and a bit of anger. “We are friends. Trust me when I tell you that, right now, it’s better the information remains with the Reapers.”
“And Death.”
He gave a nod.
“I’m guessing another Halfling is involved, as well.” She smiled when he didn’t reply, but there was no humor in the motion. She almost mentioned Thea, but something held her back. It couldn’t be about Usaeil’s daughter because Con and the other Kings knew. “So, this doesn’t just stay with the Reapers.”
“What were you doing at the palace?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Having a look around. Remember, I was banished from the Light.”
“Are you thinking of turning Dark?”
Rhi threw back her head and laughed as she pushed away from the table. “Oh, puh-lease, Daire. Of course not. And even if I was, do you really think I’d tell you? Or be there veiled? I wouldn’t need to tell anyone,” she stated, crossing her arms over her chest. “All I’d have to do is commit murder—of a Fae or a human or whoever. And the deed would be done.”
The sorrow that filled Daire’s face made her want to lash out at him.
“Don’t you dare pity me,” she told him, dropping her arms. “Don’t you fekking dare.”
He took a step toward her. “Look at what you’ve endured in the past. This is just something else to get over. You’re strong, Rhi. You can do this.”
“Maybe,” she said as she retreated a step. “But do I want to? That’s the real question.”
“You should,” he replied with a frown.
She arched a brow. “Really? That’s easy for you to say, handsome. You say I’ve been through a lot. I have. More than most. And just when I think things might get better, the rug gets yanked out from beneath me again. Frankly, I’m tired of it.”
“And the darkness is hard to resist.”
Rhi stilled as she started to turn away. His words slammed into her with the force of a hurricane. She slowly turned her head to him. “What did you say?”
“Your light has always shone so brightly, Rhi, that you’ve not felt the darkness like most. And when you did, it wasn’t just the fringes of it but the entire, frightening mass. And it wants you. Badly.”
She tried to look away, but she couldn’t. Her eyes clouded with moisture, tears that she hadn’t allowed herself to shed. “Yes.”
“I might have been a Light, but every Reaper was betrayed and killed. Death chooses each of us, and once we accept the position as her executioners, we’re no longer just Light or Dark. We’re neither. And we’re both. I understand fully what the darkness is, and how persuasive it can be.”
“Stop,” she told him, not wanting to hear any more.
Suddenly, he was before her, his hands on her arms as he bent his head to look into her eyes. “You’re not alone. You’ve never been alone. In all my long life, I’ve never known another being to have so many friends who would do anything for them. The Warriors and Druids at MacLeod Castle, the Dragon Kings … me.”
It was too much. Rhi tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. When the first ugly tear escaped, he gently wiped it away.
Rhi spun around, hating for anyone to see her cry. She buried her face in her hands. And behind her, the Reaper put his hand on her shoulder, silently giving her comfort and compassion.
“Turning Dark is easy,” Daire continued. “Fighting the darkness is the hard part. It wants you so desperately because your light is so bright. Keep fighting it.”
She sniffed and lifted her head, angrily swiping away the tears she hadn’t wanted to shed. “I’m not thinking of any of that right now.”
“But you were at the Dark Palace.”
Rhi spun around to face him. “You know I was, since a Reaper saw me. And if you must know, I went to find out if Balladyn is the monster I fear he’s become. But I didn’t see him. I didn’t stay long.”
“He can sense you when you’re veiled. That’s highly unusual, but that’s because the two of you have a deep connection.”
“Yes.” But it didn’t compare to the connection she’d had with her Dragon King. He was … well, everything. Even now.
“I can tell when you’re thinking of your King.”
She held up a finger. “You know the rule. Don’t say his name.”
“Why? You’ve said it before. I don’t understand how you can continue to hold such love for him while suffering the loss of that love and still go to Dreagan again and again. Seeing him.”
Rhi forced a smile. “It’s
easy, really. After he ended our affair, I knew I’d either have to leave this realm or learn to deal with it. There have been times I’ve kept my distance from the Kings. In order to get my life back, I created this little room in my mind. I put everything we had—every kiss, every word, every memory—there. And I locked it tightly away.”
“It doesn’t always stay there.”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “But more often than not, I can control it. So that’s how I help my friends at Dreagan. That’s how I talk to him. That’s how I say his name. Because when it’s about something else, I can do it. But when it’s about … us … that’s when everything I put away in my mind threatens to escape.”
Daire’s smile was sad. “I think I understand. Now, why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here? Is this about the wooden dragon?”
“It is.” Rhi walked around the table to the book she’d been reading. “I’m hoping to find the Druids who joined with the Fae.”
“Those Druids would be long dead.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Yes, but I could trace the family.”
“That still won’t find you the Fae.”
Rhi blew out an exasperated breath. “No, it won’t. And my fear is that those Fae are still around.”
“If they are, they could cause serious issues for the Kings.”
“I know.”
Daire’s lips flattened. “We have books from the original thirty Fae families. I’ll see if River can find any mention of some pact with the Druids in them.”
“That would be helpful. Thank you.”
He grinned. “Remember what I told you. You’re never alone.”
When he teleported away, another tear slipped down Rhi’s cheek.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
The tunnel didn’t get easier. In fact, the walls seemed as if they were closing in on them. Sabina never thought herself claustrophobic, but it was quickly becoming a phobia.
She had been joking with Roman about busting through the stone before, but now she wished he would do it. She was moving through the passageway sideways, shifting her torso forward or backwards to work around the walls.
And Roman … he was utterly silent. There were no sighs, no mumbled curses, no slamming his palm against the rock helplessly as she kept doing.
For the fifth time, Sabina banged her head into an outcropping of rock. She bit back a curse and rubbed the spot with her free hand. She didn’t know how Roman wasn’t smacking his head, but he must be, right?
“Stop,” she said and drew to a halt while yanking on his hand.
Her head was facing him, so she was able to see how tightly he was held between the walls. There was no room for him to turn his head to her or even shift his body.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Well,” she said. “First, I can’t take the walls closing in on me any longer.”
There was a beat of silence. “I suppose there’s a second?”
She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “My bladder is about to burst.”
“You did drink four bottles of water.”
Were his shoulders shaking? As in … laughing? Her mouth fell open in dismay. “Find this funny, do you?”
“A wee bit,” he mumbled.
“I’m smiling on the inside.”
This time, she was sure she saw his shoulders shaking. Sabina rolled her eyes, but even she was grinning now. If her bladder didn’t hurt so badly, she might even enjoy the moment.
“Can you tell how far the passage goes?” she asked.
“It looks to go on for some time.”
Damn. “I don’t suppose you can make the tunnel any wider.”
He didn’t answer. His silence left her uneasy. And it didn’t take her long to realize that he didn’t want her to know something.
“Roman? Please, just tell me whatever it is.”
It took him a moment, but he bent his knees until he was down on his haunches. Then he was able to look at her. Instantly, she saw the worry he no longer masked from her.
“That bad, huh?” she said.
“The farther we go, the more magic I can feel. I can no’ tell what spell is being used, but I recognize the mix of it.”
Sabina briefly looked at their joined hands. “Others.”
“I think they created this tunnel to be as uncomfortable as possible.”
“In other words,” she said. “They’re counting on a King using his strength or magic to widen it.”
He nodded his head. “Exactly. I suspect that if I do anything, the ramifications will be swift and severe.”
“And you’ll survive it, but I won’t.” Sabina snorted as she rolled her eyes. “I really, really don’t like the Others.”
“We’ll get through this.”
“I’m beginning to have my doubts. Tight spaces have never bothered me before, but it feels like they’re reaching out for me.”
“They are.”
She gaped at him. “What?”
“It’s the magic,” he explained. “They want you to feel that way so I’ll widen the tunnel.
Sabina closed her eyes. “I thought I could do this. I really believed that I could handle whatever was thrown at me.” She looked at Roman. “But I can’t.”
There was no disappointment in his green eyes, no frustration. He accepted her words for what they were. “Ulrik can no’ get to you here. We’ll need to backtrack to the magma river.”
“That’s several hours.”
“Aye.”
She really wanted to stamp her foot right then. Or better yet, punch one of the Others—or all of them. “I don’t like going backwards.”
“It’s your choice. I’ll take you back.”
“It’s not as if I’d get lost.”
Roman raised a brow and gave her a flat look.
How could she forget that she was surrounded by the magic of the Others? Being on her own would be worse than remaining in the tight passage.
She licked her lips. “Let’s keep going.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.”
“As I said, I don’t like going backwards. I’ll deal with this.”
“Doona go through it alone. Talk to me,” he urged. “Tell me what you’re feeling and experiencing. I’ll do what I can.”
He didn’t move until she smiled and nodded. Only then did he slowly straighten, waiting to look away from her until the last minute. Once Roman’s tall frame was squished between the walls again, he moved forward.
Sabina wasn’t sure how long she walked until she realized she was no longer feeling as if the walls were going to cave in on her. And she knew the magic of the Others wasn’t gone. Otherwise, Roman would widen the tunnel.
No, he must have used his magic on her once more. With the heavy feeling lifted, she was able to focus on what she was doing and think about what might be coming.
They shuffled another hundred feet or so before she grew too chilled to continue. “I need just a second to put on my coat,” she told Roman.
The moment she released his hand, she felt his absence. Sabina hurried as fast as she could with her jacket, but maneuvering even a little bit was nearly impossible in the enclosed space.
She became a contortionist. She had to dip her shoulder and wiggle her arm just to get one side of the coat on. For her other arm, she had to squat and lean to the side while sliding her arm behind her in search of the sleeve. It took four tries and sweat now covered her—and made her rethink the coat. But after everything she’d gone through to get it on, she wasn’t going to take it off now.
Sabina rotated her shoulder until the jacket was on correctly. Then she reached for Roman’s hand. Except he wasn’t there.
“Roman,” she called.
The light was still above her, but it showed only darkness. Sabina walked forward a few steps because that was the only way Roman could’ve gone.
“Roman! This isn’t funny.”
She held her breath,
trying to hear the tiniest of sounds. But there was only a deafening silence.
“ROMAN!”
Her heart was beating wildly, her blood turning to ice. Terror and worry knotted her stomach. He wouldn’t leave her. Not willingly. Which meant this had to be the Others somehow.
If only she hadn’t let go of his hand. She’d known as soon as she did it that it hadn’t felt right. Why, oh why, did she have to put on her coat? Why couldn’t she have just dealt with the cold? He’d told her to tell him what she was feeling so he could help.
“Roman,” she whispered.
She’d thought he was dead when he fell into the river of lava. She knew that wasn’t the case, but there was no denying that he was gone. She’d have to continue on her own. Something that he hadn’t wanted her to do.
Sabina looked up at the light. Had it just flickered? With Roman away, would it remain? And what about the claustrophobia? Would that return?
“What if it does?” she asked herself. “You push through it, that’s what.”
Her little pep talk did little to inspire her. But she didn’t like going backwards, and what would that give her anyway? She had no way of contacting her brother, V, or Ulrik. Or a way to get back over the river of lava. Which meant she had no choice but to keep going.
“Right,” she said and took a step.
And promptly rammed her knee into the wall. She grimaced, but she kept moving. Each step becoming a little easier. Her hand grew cold, missing Roman’s strength and warmth. Something as simple as handholding changed everything.
“Roman, if you can hear me, I’m going to find you,” she said. “I’ll retrieve the sword, as well. I promised I would, and I won’t let you down. Trust me.”
Her throat clogged with emotion. How many times had he asked her if she trusted him? Now it was his turn to do the same with her.
“I shouldn’t have let go of your hand.”
She felt tears threaten and hastily blinked them back. There was no time for crying. For all she knew, the Others’ magic would detect the weakness and use it against her somehow.
Sabina frowned, wondering if everything she said aloud could be used by the Others’ magic in some way. She couldn’t know for sure, but she’d rather be safe than sorry. So she stopped talking to herself, halted her attempts to reach Roman. If anyone could detect her in the darkness, it was he.
