by Donna Grant
“Bloody hell,” Kiril mumbled.
Shara moved closer to Kiril. “It’ll take something great in order to do that.”
Constantine focused his gaze on her once more. “Do you know what the Dark searches for from us?”
“That was never divulged to me. All is I know is that they want it badly.”
Kiril ran a hand down his face. “What is it they want, Con? Why is it something we doona know?”
“Because.”
“That’s all I get?”
Con put his hands in the pockets of his slacks and raised a blond brow. “It is. What is hidden must remain hidden. We should be more concerned with the person helping Balladyn.”
“You know who it is, don’t you?” Shara asked.
Kiril blew out a long breath as he realized he too knew who it was. “Ulrik.”
“The banished Dragon King?” Shara said in shock. Why hadn’t she put that together herself? It all made sense now. “Of course.”
“You know of him?” Con asked.
“Didn’t you discover all you could about your enemy before a war?”
Con smiled, this time it reached his eyes. “Naturally.”
“So did the Dark. What they learned has been shared through the years. There’s been much speculation about what Ulrik did to be banished.”
Kiril’s brow furrowed. “So you know of Ulrik, but no’ what he did?”
“Yes.”
“How did the Dark learn of him?” Kiril asked.
Shara shrugged, noting that both men’s eyes were riveted on her. “Some say Taraeth sought him out, but the story that’s the most popular states that it was Ulrik who came to Taraeth and made a deal to work together.”
“To bring us down,” Con finished with a curse.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Rhys ducked into the barn and checked his side where the injury had been yet again. He could still feel it eating through him, though he was healed. The agony had been unimaginable, the torment inconceivable.
The fact he had been dying slowly, painfully was mind-boggling.
Dragon magic. There was no denying that’s what had hit him. He knew because he had been struck with dragon magic before during the brief period when the Kings were split on whether to kill or protect the humans. Those faithful to Ulrik had rallied to help him annihilate the humans. Thankfully, the battle between the Kings had been fleeting, but even then many of them had died needlessly.
There was no doubt in his mind that the magic hadn’t been used by Kiril. Con, though an arrogant ass most of the time, wouldn’t be so underhanded. If Con had a problem with you, he dealt with you face-to-face.
Which begged the question of who had tried to kill him. There were no other Dragon Kings in Ireland at the time. Nor could a Dark Fae use dragon magic. Ulrik, though he had been in Ireland was unable to use his magic. Con had seen to that ages ago. The mystery was eating Rhys up inside.
His mobile dinged with a text. He pulled it from his back pocket to see it was from Banan’s mate, Jane, who was manning the gift shop.
A WOMAN IS WAITING FOR YOU. SAYS SHE’S EXPECTED, the text read.
Rhys had completely forgotten about his date. Normally he dropped everything to spend his nights with a beautiful woman, but he wanted to be alone. To think and … to forget the horrors almost dying had brought him.
He typed, TELL HER I’M UNWELL AND WILL CALL HER SOON.
Rhys hit the send button and set aside his phone facedown before he braced his hands on the table and hung his head. None of the others could know his concern. Already the Kings were being hit from too many sides by their enemies.
His eyes closed and the face of every Dragon King scrolled through his mind’s eye while he discerned if they held a grudge against him. There were many Kings who had returned to their sleep after the battle alongside the Warriors and Druids.
Any of them could have slipped out unnoticed from their caves and found him, but why would they? Rhys had yet to come up with a reason why he would be targeted by his brethren.
The barest of pops sounded from the hinges on the door, alerting him that he was no longer alone. Rhys quickly straightened and grabbed the electrical sheep shearers near him. He was cleaning the blades when he spotted Con out of the corner of his eye.
“Everything all right?” Con asked nonchalantly.
He glanced at Con and forced a smile. There was nothing casual about his visit. “Never better.”
“I saw your date leaving without you. What’s going on?”
Rhys stilled for a moment before he grabbed a rag and wiped the blades. “It’s no’ exactly a good time to be having fun, now, is it?”
“That’s never bothered you before.”
“It does now.” Rhys prayed Con would leave things and walk away. He should’ve known better.
Con strode farther into the room. “I suspect Kiril will want Shara as his mate.”
“Most likely. He loves her,” Rhys said with a shrug.
“Who do you think would be a likely candidate to tear us apart?”
Con’s question, posed in a soft tone, sent warning bells ringing in Rhys’s mind. He slowly set aside the shears and turned his head to Con. “You think Shara is here for that?”
“She was a candidate for all of a heartbeat. She’s true to her word and Kiril.”
Rhys shifted to face Con and leaned his hip against the table. “There is the Dark Fae, MI5 or any other human organization who have aligned with the Dark, and then there is Ulrik.”
“So you do think he could be a part of this,” Con said with a small smile.
“It’s a possibility, but why do I get the feeling you’ve got an individual in mind?”
One of Con’s shoulders lifted in a shrug, his black eyes revealing nothing. “I asked for your opinion.”
“I doona have one.” He turned back to the table and oiled the shears.
Con leisurely walked around the room as silence grew. Rhys’s side burned where his wound had been, causing him to grit his teeth. However, he refused to allow Con to know anything was wrong. He didn’t want anyone worrying over him, and if Con thought something was amiss, he was just as likely to try to keep Rhys confined while he figured out what was wrong as to let Rhys discover it on his own.
One could never determine which way Con’s decision would fall.
“You never told me what you think of Shara,” Con said.
Rhys set down the shears with a frustrated sigh. “I like her. Now, if that’s all, leave me to my work.”
“It’s no’ all.” Con stopped beside him. “Did you see another Dragon King in Ireland while we were battling the Dark?”
Rhys gave a shake of his head. “Did anyone leave Dreagan?”
“Nay,” Con stated angrily. “Everyone has been accounted for.”
That left only Ulrik. Rhys squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “It can no’ be Ulrik. We took all of his magic. You and I both know if his magic were returned he’d be back here in an instant for his Silvers.”
Con leaned back against the table and rested his hands on the wood near his hips. “The simple fact is that he was in the Fae realm. He talked to Kiril, and he took Rhi.”
“Of course he took her,” Rhys said with a small shake of his head. “You expected anything different?”
“It doesna matter what I expected,” Con said with a wave of his hand. “Shara told me of a tale spread among the Dark that Ulrik came to Taraeth and struck a deal.”
Rhys’s head swiveled to him. “What kind of deal?”
“I’d like to know.” Con’s nostrils flared. “A Dark’s magic can no’ trump ours. There is nothing a Dark Fae could do to reverse what our dragon magic did to Ulrik.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Rhys asked, his brows raised.
Con pushed away from the table and walked to Rhys’s other side. Rhys remained as he was and turned his head to track Con’s movements.
> Something else was bothering Con, but Rhys learned long ago it was better not to ask questions. Con had a way of turning things around in short order, and Rhys didn’t want to be party to anything at the moment.
“How bad is it?” Con asked offhandedly.
Rhys glanced at the shears and pretended not to know what he meant. “Only two blades are bent. I’ll repair it.”
“I was referring to your wound.”
Rhys briefly closed his eyes before he stepped away from the table. “I doona know what you’re talking about,” he said and looked into Con’s eyes.
“You’re usually a better liar than that. I can see how you favor your right side. It’s minimal, pain that comes and goes, but it’s enough for me to notice.”
“I’m fine.”
“Another lie. If you were ‘fine,’ as you put it, you’d have taken that striking blonde out to dinner and then given her a good fuck as you usually do your women. The fact you’re out here in the barn raises some flags. Now, are you going to tell me or no’?”
Rhys ran a hand down his face and considered Con for a moment. “Swear to me this goes no further than the two of us.”
Con bowed his head, his black eyes holding Rhys’s. “I give you my vow.”
“It was dragon magic that struck me, but there was something else added to it. I can still feel the wound. The pain is at times nonexistent and at others immense. Whatever happened is no’ through with me yet.”
* * *
It was well into the afternoon before Kiril was able to abscond with Shara after Con had taken them into his office and grilled her for hours.
“I’m fine,” she said, devouring the tacos on her plate.
Kiril reclined in the chair opposite her at the table in his room and watched her. The lines of strain around her eyes and mouth said she was anything but.
She swallowed a bite and playfully kicked his foot beneath the table. “Stop it. Con had questions, and I’m happy that I could give him answers. I want to help.”
“Aye, and I’m happy you are, but I refuse to allow him to interrogate you as if you’re a prisoner.”
Shara shrugged after she took another bite. Her look said it was worth it. Kiril, however, thought differently. The longer she was with him, the more protective he became.
There was a soft knock on his door, and then Denae’s voice came through the wood. “Kiril? Is Shara rested now? We’d love to chat with her.”
“No’ yet,” he answered before Shara could.
Shara gave him a droll look and set down the last of the six tacos. “Why are you keeping me from them? Are you embarrassed of me?”
“Embarrassed?” The word shot from him with a blast as he jerked upright. “Never. I keep you here because I want you all to myself. The entire time we were in Ireland I longed for any glimpse of you I could get. The moments we were able to snatch were altogether too short.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I told you that.”
So she had, but it still wasn’t enough. “I wasna jesting earlier. I want you with me always.”
“I know,” she said with a smile. “I wasn’t teasing when I agreed.”
“I doona think you realized my intent. When I say always, Shara, I mean as my mate.”
“Need I remind you that it didn’t work between a Fae and King before?”
Kiril rose and walked behind his chair, leaning his hands upon the back. “The same could be said of the dozens of relationships the Kings have had with humans. Please doona use that as a guide. I love you. I let you down in Balladyn’s fortress by no’ believing you. I’m prepared to spend eternity making that up to you.”
“You’re serious,” she said softly, her silver eyes hopeful.
“I doona ask this of you lightly. No King does. I’m no’ whole without you. I didna realize what was missing until I found you, and then the awareness became so obvious it was difficult to get through each day.”
Her gaze dropped from his to the table. She stared at her food.
Apprehension turned his blood to ice. He had worried it would be asking too much of her, but he couldn’t not ask her. If it took forever before she consented he would remain with her and keep asking.
He swallowed past the lump of emotion in his throat. “If that’s too much, I understand. You’ve been under your family’s rule. You probably need some time to yourself. Just promise you’ll return to me as often as you can.”
His heart was in his throat as he waited for some kind of response. Finally her eyes lifted to his. She set aside her napkin and stood. Kiril straightened, his hands fisted at his sides so he wouldn’t pull her against him.
“You want me?” she asked in such a soft voice he had to strain to hear her.
“More than anything in all the universe.”
She dropped her face into her hands. Kiril glanced around, unsure of what to do. He had no idea what to do or if he should do anything. Was she happy? Distraught? Angry? Did she want his touch? Should he leave?
Every question ran through his mind in rapid succession without a single answer to help him. He decided to remain where he was. Kiril couldn’t imagine her turning away from him, but he didn’t want to chance it. It would destroy him as nothing else could.
When her head lifted, her cheeks were streaked with tears. “I didn’t dare hope for such words.”
Kiril’s shoulders sagged with relief as he closed the distance between them and pulled her against him. Her face was in his neck as fresh tears soaked his shirt.
“Is that a yes?” he asked hopefully.
At her nod, he held her tighter. He didn’t know how he had gotten such a woman to be his, but Kiril was determined to ensure that she was always happy. No matter what he had to do, she was his priority.
EPILOGUE
Three weeks later …
Rhys stood back with a glass of whisky in hand as he watched Kiril and Shara leave the cavern after their mating ceremony.
Kiril’s smile was a mile wide as he gazed adoringly down at Shara who only had eyes for him. She was beautiful in a deep-orange floor-length strapless gown. Her long black hair was down with the silver strip pulled back with a clip. Around her wrist was a bracelet of emerald-cut rare padparadscha sapphires from Sri Lanka—a gift from Con as a welcoming to their world.
On Shara’s left upper arm was the new dragon eye tattoo that signaled her as a mate of a Dragon King. In the few weeks Shara had been at Dreagan, she had imparted things about the Dark Fae.
Henry, the Kings’ human friend in MI5, was keeping track of Dark Fae movements around the world. In the short time they had been watching, it was clear the Dark were up to something.
Rhys’s gaze shifted to Con who was the last to leave the cavern. He had been quietly watching Ulrik for days through the video feed from Perth, waiting for him to make a wrong move, but so far Ulrik had done nothing. Rhys wondered how much longer Con would wait before he went after Ulrik.
“Another mated,” Con said as he stopped beside him.
Rhys lifted his glass in salute when Kiril looked at him. With a smile on his face directed at Kiril, Rhys told Con, “It’s unstoppable now. We went through thousands of millennia without mating. Perhaps it’s time.”
“Are you next then?”
His smile disappeared as he jerked his gaze to Con. “Doona even jest. It’s no’ for me.”
“Nor me,” Con agreed. “Yet the others seem happy.”
“Let’s hope they remain that way.” Rhys downed the whisky in one swallow. He glared at Con when he found him staring. “The pain is minimal tonight.”
“We willna be able to keep it from everyone for much longer.”
“We have to,” Rhys said urgently. “I doona want anyone to find out. At least no’ until we know what’s going on.”
Con’s lips flattened into a line. “I’m working on it, though it would be easier if I could have others looking into it as well.”
“It’s bad enough you mentioned it t
o Phelan.”
Con faced the festivities as music began to blare. Kiril and Shara were in each other’s arms dancing in slow circles beneath the moonlight. “He willna say a word to anyone. He’s trustworthy.”
“I’m finding it hard to trust anyone,” Rhys admitted. “A King did this to me, Con. I want to know who.”
Con grimly watched him disappear into the night. “I do too, my friend.”
* * *
Rhi opened her eyes only to be blinded by bright, beautiful sunlight. She squinted against it, her fingers moving in the warm rays. She rolled over onto her back and realized she was in her cabin. Her private place. A place no one else was supposed to know about—not even her queen.
Rhi sat up and looked down to find herself covered only by a coral-colored blanket spun of the softest cashmere. Her skin was clean and there were no manacles around her wrists. Yet she knew without a doubt she had been in Balladyn’s prison. It hadn’t been a dream.
And neither was this.
She had experienced those “dreams” while chained, and during that awful time she had been deluded into believing the dreams were real, but now that she was free of the Chains of Mordare, she could tell the difference.
Which begged the question: who brought her to her cabin?
Rhi stood, carefully keeping the blanket wrapped around her, and walked out of her bedroom expecting to find someone sitting on her sofa. But there was nobody there or in the kitchen.
Her gaze went to the door. She walked silently to it and threw it open before she walked onto the porch and found him sitting in the rocker.
“It’s about time you woke up. I was getting concerned,” Ulrik said, looking up at her with his golden gaze from the small piece of wood he had been carving.
She drew in a shaky breath. “What are you doing here?”
Ulrik folded his knife and tucked it into his pocket before he got to his feet and faced her with a smile. His black hair was long and loose, giving him a dangerous look that was accentuated by the black shirt with a large silver fleur-de-lis on the front and dark denim on his legs. “The correct response is to thank me.”
