by Donna Grant
Though all Fae were naturally beautiful, Rhi had an inner glow that no other Fae possessed—not even Usaeil, the Light Queen.
It was his friendship with Rhi’s brother, Rolmir, that had afforded Balladyn the privilege to know her. For centuries he’d loved her from afar, waiting until she was old enough to want a husband.
Instead of following the footsteps of most female Light, Rhi followed him and Rolmir. She trained with them, fought with them, and earned herself a position as the only female in the Queen’s Guard.
It was one of the highest honors a Light Fae could ever achieve. It was truly a day of celebration. For Balladyn, it was doubly so because it he was able to spend more time with Rhi.
However, while he was eating meals with her, training beside her, and dreaming of her at night, Rhi was falling in love with a Dragon King.
Balladyn still remembered the sensation of a dagger slicing him open when she told him all about the Dragon King she’d met. It was all Balladyn could do not to tell her how he felt.
Caution stopped him, urging him to give her time. Because surely whatever was going on with the King would never last.
As if fate conspired against him, the affair went on much longer than he ever thought possible, and then just when he was ready to give up, the King abruptly ended the affair.
The next thing Balladyn knew, he was holding Rhi as she cried unending tears, her anguish tearing him apart. Balladyn went from hating the Dragon King, to wanting to cut him into tiny pieces for breaking Rhi’s heart.
For days he remained by Rhi’s side comforting her as best he could, even when all she did was cry. It was enough that she’d turned to him. It meant she knew he’d always be there for her.
Then Usaeil summoned him. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine Rhi would venture into the darkest side of the Fae realm where no Light Fae dared to go.
But Balladyn had been ready to follow her. Only he saw Rhi’s Dragon King go in after her first. To this day, Rhi had no idea who brought her out of that death trap.
Balladyn dropped his chin to his chest as those memories assaulted him. He’d sworn to stay beside her always. So he was prepared to wait for her to get past her broken heart—except the Fae army was called to war. As a Queen’s Guard, they led the charge.
He touched his left shoulder where he’d been hit with an arrow from a Dark. The tip came so close to piercing his heart he was still surprised he hadn’t died. In some ways, it would’ve been better had it killed him instead of him ending up in a Dark Fae dungeon where he was consequently turned.
All the love he once held for Rhi was then twisted to hate. He made it his mission to capture and turn her. When she ventured into Taraeth’s domain, Balladyn had scarcely believed his fortune.
For just a second, he’d believed she was there for him, to try and bring him back to the Light. Then he learned of the Dragon King, Kellan, who was being held. Despite all that Rhi’s lover had done to her, she was still helping the Dragon Kings.
It infuriated him, exasperated him. And he’d been determined to do something about it.
Balladyn got his justice. He caught Rhi. And how he tortured her. The Dark King, Taraeth, had been ecstatic, believing he would have two former Queen’s Guards with him.
Except Balladyn pushed Rhi too hard too quickly. She destroyed his fortress, and in the process showed him the sheer amount of power within her.
Being near her once more also revealed something else—he still loved her.
Deeply.
Balladyn proceeded to chase her all around the world. Not to turn her Dark, but to be near her. His heart had leapt when he’d found her at Pompeii and she placed her hand in his.
He hadn’t known what to do after that. Rhi was no longer running, but she still wasn’t his. Balladyn knew then he would have to tread slowly with her. Their first kiss had rocked him to the pit of his black soul.
The more he was with Rhi, even for mere seconds, the more he felt himself changing. She consumed his thoughts day and night, asleep or awake.
He’d waited thousands of years for her. He didn’t want to wait any longer.
Then she’d come to him, asking for help. She had touched him, kissed him. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she felt something between them. There was no denying it, not the way she returned his kiss.
In order for them to be together, Balladyn had to figure out how they could both escape Usaeil and Taraeth or take them both down. He’d watched Rhi in action recently as she, along with Con and Thorn, attacked Mikkel’s manor to save a human.
All was going well until Rhi had been struck with Dark magic. Reliving that moment still made him feel powerless and so damn angry.
Balladyn rubbed his chest where his heart should be and teleported to the desert. It was the place they’d shared their first kiss, the place they returned to time and again.
He sat in the hot sand, letting the tiny grains burn his hands as he buried them. The sun baked him, but he didn’t feel any of it. He kept seeing Rhi thrown back by the blast of magic at the manor and then lay unmoving.
Balladyn had attempted to go to her, but Ulrik stopped him. It was Constantine who took Rhi to Dreagan. All Balladyn could hope for was that the King of Kings used his power to heal her.
It was not knowing how Rhi fared that was slowly killing Balladyn. He hadn’t heard from or seen Rhi in weeks. Each day that went by without word from her was its own special kind of torture.
He called to her repeatedly. She either didn’t answer because she couldn’t, or she didn’t want to. With Rhi, it could be either option.
Rhi was loyal to a fault. She had a good heart that he soured during his torture of her. She was amazing with a sword, and someone you knew you could trust explicitly.
She wasn’t without her faults. She loved to meddle, and had a penchant for shopping daily. Her fingernail polish collection was unrivaled, as was her affinity for having her nails painted.
The fact that she couldn’t lie without feeling extreme pain was a boon for anyone close to her. Rhi always told the truth, no matter how painful it might be. There were no lies or deception with her. Just honesty and laughter.
That laughter had been missing from her eyes ever since she’d broken free from the Chains of Mordare while in his dungeon. He’d done that to her. He’d nearly snuffed out her light.
How could he have done that if he loved her?
He loved the Rhi that ran laughing through a field of flowers with her black hair loose and her arms out.
He loved the Rhi whose silver eyes shone with mischief whenever she played a prank.
He loved the Rhi who would bounce up and down with excitement anytime she had a surprise for someone.
He loved the Rhi who would close her eyes and lift her face to the sun as if seeking its warmth.
All that had drawn him to Rhi. And he’d crushed it. It was the darkness within her that allowed him to find her. It was that which called to him.
He’d hated her for what he had become, and yet he was responsible for turning her in the same direction. That is, if she lived.
Balladyn dropped his head in his hands, a tight band gripping his chest. Life without her would be … impossible. He couldn’t be here without her. She was his everything, his reason for breathing.
“Please, Rhi. Come to me,” Balladyn whispered. “I need you. I love you.”
He looked up, hoping she would suddenly appear, looking at him as if he were pathetic.
Instead, only the sound of the wind over the sand met his ears.
Dreagan Distillery
Rhys stood in the doorway gazing at the bed where Rhi lay unmoving as she had for the past two weeks. He visited every day, and each time he fully expected her to be sitting up demanding Con bring her a tray of food.
“Still no change?” Con asked as he came to stand beside him.
Rhys glanced at the King of Kings and shook his head. Con’s black gaze was trained on Rhi. “None.”
“I doona understand,” Con said as he walked to the bed and put his hand on Rhi’s forehead. “I healed her. All of her injuries. She should’ve woken by now.”
“I know.” Rhys shoved away from the door and moved to the chair near the bed. He sat heavily and sighed. “Something’s wrong.”
Con straightened with a nod. “I agree.”
“But what? The Dark magic?”
Con shrugged his shoulders, his white dress shirt stretching over his arms at the movement. He slid his hands into his pants pockets. “She’s been through a lot lately. We doona know what all happened to her at Balladyn’s hands.”
“She’s no’ Dark,” Rhys said through clenched teeth.
“I never said she was.”
“You implied she might be.”
Con glanced away. “All I’m saying is that we doona have all the facts. We know she was tortured. I saw her, Rhys. I didna recognize her when I walked into that dungeon. Whatever Balladyn did, he did well.”
“It was weeks after Ulrik carried her out of Balladyn’s fortress before we saw her,” Rhys admitted.
“And she’s no’ been the same. Her light is … diminished. No’ gone, but she’s different.”
Rhys shook his head sadly. “Even I can admit you’re right in that assessment. I fear the Dark magic is somehow going to eviscerate whatever is left of her light.”
“Rhi is too strong for that.”
Rhys eyed Con. “How she’d love to hear you say that.”
“It’s because she’s asleep that I’m able,” Con replied with a slight smile. That smile died as he shifted his gaze back to her. “But it’s worrying that she’s no’ woken. I doona know what else to do. Usaeil wants her at the castle.”
“Nay,” Rhys stated as he rose. “Rhi isna leaving Dreagan.”
Con’s forehead puckered for a moment. “She’s a Light Fae. She should be with her own kind, no’ here with us Dragon Kings.”
“This is exactly where she needs to be. With friends. She left the Queen’s Guard. Rhi wouldna want to return there.”
Con gave a nod of his head. “I’ll only be able to keep Usaeil away for so long.”
“You’re King of Kings. You can keep her away indefinitely.” Rhys suspected something was going on between Con and Usaeil, and the more he spoke with Con about the queen, the more he thought he was right.
“I can, but I doona want to.”
“Since when do you bow to the Fae?”
A muscle jumped in Con’s jaw. “Never.”
“But you are to Usaeil. There is talk you two are having an affair. Is there truth to that?”
“Since when do you listen to rumors?”
“Since it involves Usaeil. Answer the question,” Rhys pressed.
Con held his gaze for long moments. “I didna ask you who you took to your bed. I’d like the same courtesy whether it’s a Fae or a human. It’s my business.”
Rhys watched Con walk from the room knowing he had his answer. Now all Rhys could pray for was that Rhi never discovered the truth.
Chapter Six
It wasn’t the first time Sophie had a day that seemed to never end, but this one took the crown. And then some. It was one craptastic event after another.
After seeing Darius, it was as if fate wanted to remind her of him constantly. She turned the corner at the hospital and saw a portion of a man’s face with people surrounding him. Her heart raced, thinking it was Darius.
Until the crowd moved and she got a full look at him.
The disappointment when it wasn’t Darius only made her angry. So what if he had come to the hospital? He hadn’t spoken to her.
It wasn’t like you gave him a chance. You didn’t even smile.
Smile? She wasn’t thinking of smiling when she’d looked at him. She’d thought of hot kisses, ragged breaths, and skin sliding against skin.
She walked to her locker and opened it. Smile. As if. There was no smiling when her body was heated in such a way.
You could’ve at least let him know you were happy to see him. I wouldn’t have talked to you either.
Sophie hung her white doctor’s jacket in her locker. She then grabbed her purse. It was fine. Better than fine, actually. She didn’t want to talk or see Darius. Hadn’t she told herself that earlier?
“Never again,” she repeated.
You don’t have to talk when a sex god like him is doing you. In fact, you don’t even have to look at him.
With her hand on the locker, prepared to close it, Sophie hesitated. But she did want to look at him. He was sinfully gorgeous. There was also an air of peril around him.
You always wanted to know what it was like to be attracted to a bad boy.
Darius wasn’t a “bad boy.” He was something darker, something more wicked. He hadn’t been lying when he said he wasn’t a good man, and yet she trusted him.
Odd since she didn’t trust men in general.
It was his eyes.
Yes, his eyes. Those deep orbs the color of rich, dark chocolate. He hadn’t tried to be glib or charming. He simply was.
Was that what drew her? Was it because he told her the truth, uncaring what she thought of him? She hadn’t known men were capable of such things.
He hadn’t flirted with her or tried to be charismatic. In fact, he’d said very little the first time and nothing at all the second.
Instead, his large hand had cupped the back of her head and held it while he kissed her mindless. Her senses had been assaulted with his taste, his heat, his desire, and his smell. Even now she had only to think of sandalwood and chills raced over her skin.
Sophie blinked and found herself staring at her reflection through the small mirror in her locker. Her eyes were dilated, her lips parted, and her chest heaved.
Her sex ached to feel Darius’s length slide inside her once more, to have him thrust hard and fast. Her breasts swelled and moisture soaked her panties.
My God. What was wrong with her?
He rode you good.
Sophie slammed her locker shut and turned on her heel. It was past midnight, and she wanted a few hours of sleep before she was back at the hospital for her next shift.
On her way out, she stopped by to check on the woman whose husband had beaten her. The woman refused to press charges or to realize that if she didn’t take some kind of action, she could end up dead.
Sophie paused by the door when she heard voices within. She peered around the corner to see a man with her. He was crying, swearing he would never do it again.
How many times had he said those same words? By the woman’s medical records and all her broken bones, it had been many, many times.
Sophie had done her part. She’d given the woman the same advice they gave every victim of domestic violence. The ball was in the woman’s court. Sophie could only pray that she took a stand and got her life back.
As she walked out of the hospital, Sophie felt the wind hit her face with a blast of cold air. A light snow had fallen two days ago, and more was on the way. Even after seven years, she still wasn’t accustomed to the harsh Scotland winters.
Still flushed from thinking of Darius, she didn’t bother to button her coat. Her heels clicked on the cobblestones as she made her way to the street.
Unable to help herself, she glanced to the spot where she and Darius had given in to their passion. The shadows hid the location, but she didn’t need lights to know where it was.
For a short time, Sophie had forgotten her past and the betrayals that shaped her into who she was. For a brief space she had just been Sophie—a woman who craved Darius’s touch like she needed air.
And it had felt so good to give in to that.
She looked at the ground and swallowed. Damn Darius for showing up again. And damn her own mind for not being able to forget about him.
When she raised her head, her eyes clashed with chocolate ones. Sophie halted inches from running into Darius. She gripped her purse in one hand and h
er black medical bag in the other while she wondered what to do.
“Walk around me,” Darius said.
She frowned, anger cutting through her. Hadn’t he been the one to come to the hospital, her place of work? Wasn’t he the one in front of her now?
“Keep walking, Sophie. I’ll find you later and explain,” he said in a low voice.
She rolled her eyes and walked past him, making sure she ran her shoulder into him hard enough to throw him off balance.
Why had she romanticized their dalliance? Why had she once more found herself making a man into something he wasn’t?
Darius had told her he wasn’t a good man. Yet she went and made him out that way. All those nights dreaming of him, of their passion and desire, created a man in her head that couldn’t possibly exist.
After this run-in, she was sure Darius would be well and truly out of her mind for good. She didn’t have the time or inclination for men like him.
But still, the idea that her life might’ve been changing was a heady one. As had the thought that Darius could be the kind of man she didn’t think existed.
She opted to walk home instead of taking her usual cab. The air was brisk, and with the snow coming, it might be her last chance for a while. The stroll felt good despite her feet hurting from two back-to-back shifts.
Sophie was exhausted by the time she entered her flat. She tossed down her keys, purse, and bag at the entryway table. Then she hung up her coat and kicked off her shoes on the way to the bathroom.
She was unbuttoning her shirt when she paused to turn on the water for the bathtub. After her clothes were in the hamper, she walked naked to the tub and poured a large portion of bubble bath in before lighting the candles set all around the claw-foot tub.
While the water filled, she turned on some music and shut off the lights. Her newest favorite was the soundtrack to Outlander. She climbed into the tub with the haunting melody playing in the background.
Sophie sighed as she leaned back and let the water and bubbles surround her. When the water was high enough, she turned it off with her foot.
Her eyes were closed as she relaxed. Slowly the tension and stress began to ease from her muscles. Her head lolled to the side. Her fatigue was so great she could fall asleep right there if she wasn’t careful. The only thing that would’ve made everything perfect was wine.
