by Meg Anne
Kael’s gaze roamed over her face. “Then I will say just one more thing and not mention it again.”
Effie remained quiet as she waited for him to chastise her, practically willing him to say aloud the things she had said to herself the night before. Maybe it would purge some of this awful ache inside of her.
“I have seen how he looks this morning, and it is true that harm has been done, but not the unforgivable kind. Show that you are sorry. Make your peace, and it will be forgotten.”
Effie blinked up in confusion. Which he? Two pairs of haunted, angry eyes floated through her mind.
Nothing in any realm would pry the question from her lips. Instead, she nodded.
It was not what she’d been expecting, but it was sound advice all the same. She could not take back what she’d said or done, but she could try to make amends. Perhaps she could salvage at least some of her dignity, if not the friendships themselves.
Not that friendship had been on her mind the night before.
Effie forcibly pulled herself away from that dangerous line of thought. The only way she’d been able to tame her tears the night before had been once she’d stopped allowing herself to think about the sting of Lucian’s rejection . . . or the feel of demanding lips moving over hers. She didn’t let herself think about the differences between their kisses. Not how one touched her with the reverence of a man seeking salvation as he pressed her against the wall, or how the other had practically ignited her with the intensity of his passion as he undressed her.
And she definitely didn’t think about how the man who’d died to save her—whose last words were ones of love for her—had never once touched her with the kind of all-consuming need both of the others had.
Nope. Not once.
Her misery must have shown on her face. Kael nudged her with his shoulder.
“Come, little warrior. We will feed you, and then we will train. I think you will find that by the time we are through, all is not as hopeless as it seems.”
She scoffed but did not argue. The hope that he was somehow right was too potent to ignore.
Effie trailed along behind Kael, lost to the thoughts she kept trying to ignore. He held the door open for her and she stumbled in, her eyes immediately pulled to the right.
She froze, the air leaving her lungs as she fought the impulse to run.
Lucian was there, his dark gaze boring into her as if demanding she spill each and every one of her secrets. Only Kael’s steady presence at her side kept her from shrinking back out of the room.
As Effie stared wordlessly at her Guardian, a prickling at her neck had her eyes dart to the left. Harsh buzzing filled her ears as Kieran’s accusing gaze found hers.
Mother save her. Both of them? She was ill-prepared to deal with one of them, let alone both at the same time.
The scrape of wood against stone pulled her eyes back to the right. Lucian stalked toward them; his expression carefully neutral.
Hysterical laughter bubbled up, and Effie’s hand shot out squeezing Kael’s forearm.
He looked at her with concern. “Effie?”
“Please don’t leave me,” she begged.
Maybe Lucian wouldn’t kill her if there were witnesses.
“I’m surprised to see you out of bed this early. How are you feeling?” Lucian asked.
Out of everything he could have said, polite formality was not what she expected.
“G-good morning,” she stuttered.
She’d braced herself for cruel words, not kindness. The lack of them caught her off guard, leaving her defenseless.
There was not a trace of last night’s anger—or passion—on the Guardian’s face. There was nothing at all to hint at the so-called harm Kael had alluded to. If she couldn’t recall—with heartbreaking clarity—each breath-stealing kiss and every ugly word she’d said to him, Effie would have thought she imagined the whole thing.
“Are you well?” he inquired again.
Effie didn’t know how to answer that. She felt like wolf shit. Her heart was a conflicted, battered thing inside her chest. The amount of shame and embarrassment that filled her right now should be impossible for a woman her size, and if that wasn’t enough, her stomach was about one surprise away from having her doubling over and emptying it on Lucian’s polished boots. Wouldn’t that be the perfect end to the morning?
“I’m alive,” she answered finally, her voice sounding like she’d swallowed shards of glass.
Lucian’s lips twitched. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“As am I. I think.”
Kael chuckled.
“I find that no matter the malady, sleep is always a fitting remedy.”
Effie’s mouth opened and closed. What in the Mother’s name is going on here? Who is this man, and what has he done with Lucian? There is absolutely no way in hell that this limpid, pleasantry exchanging man was her Guardian. He was being far too amiable and lacked all of the scowling, simmering violence that called to her.
She didn’t trust it. Not for a second.
Kieran’s cultured laugh rang out and Effie’s eyes closed.
No. Please no . . .
His lips were twisted in a cruel smile as he joined them, and Effie knew before the first syllable fell from his lips that her punishment was finally starting.
“Unfortunately for Effie, she hardly slept a wink last night. Isn’t that right, love?”
The temperature in the room dropped to arctic levels and Effie shivered, her eyes lifting up to Lucian’s face. He was too well-trained to show how the words affected him, but Effie caught the throb of a vein in his throat and the slight tightening around his mouth. He didn’t look at her, but she knew his words were for her.
“At least she found her way back to her room.”
Kieran’s laugh was filled with innuendo. “And with all of her clothes too.”
The vein in Lucian’s neck was throbbing faster now. She couldn’t bear to see what he thought of her, so she didn’t lift her eyes up any further. It was one thing to have words thrown in your face, it was another to learn they’d been acted upon. Just as it was twenty-times more painful to have your shameful actions spoken about as if they were a source of public amusement.
Effie’s heart dropped to her knees. If there had been any flicker of hope that Kieran respected her enough not to humiliate her in front of the Guardians, it died a slow and painful death then and there. She bit the inside of her cheek, using the pain to keep herself from sinking into a pit of despair.
Beside her, Kael’s warm hand wrapped around hers, offering silent support.
The tears she’d fought so hard to keep in check, spilled down her cheeks.
“Better that clarity comes too late than not at all,” she whispered.
Unmoved by her tears, Kieran landed the final verbal blow. “Thankfully not before I learned the exact shade of those perky—”
“Enough!” a familiar voice roared from behind her. A warm hand grasped her upper arm and gently, but firmly, tugged her back.
She was too stunned to resist, blinking up at Ronan’s glowering face as it twisted in disgust. There wasn’t even time for her to wonder when he’d arrived. She was too busy being thankful his disgust was not aimed at her. She didn’t think she’d survive disappointing him as well.
Ice blue eyes promised death as they found Kieran’s. “Finish that sentence and I’ll geld you.”
Kieran’s throat bobbed, but he kept his mouth shut.
Ronan turned to Lucian next, his lip curled in a sneer. “And you . . .”
Lucian’s dark gaze was searing as it dropped to her and then to where Ronan still held her. “Let her go,” he said, his voice a dark growl.
Ronan’s cheeks were flushed with anger, until they were the same shade of red as his braid.
“So now you want to protect her? What kind of man allows such slander of one under his protection?”
Lucian’s eye twitched, but he didn’t back down. Not even Ron
an, in all his fuming glory, intimidated her Guardian.
“If you want to keep your hand, Shield, you will remove it from my charge this instant.”
“You know who I am? Good. Then you’ll know that I mean it when I say if I find out you’ve been allowing this abuse to go on unchecked, it’s me you’ll be answering to. All of you.”
Effie swallowed, still too stunned by his appearance to fully take in what was happening. She glanced around at the others.
Kieran’s ears were pink, but he wasn’t looking at Ronan. He was staring at Lucian with a look so dark Effie wanted to hide behind Ronan’s towering frame. She’d never seen that kind of hatred, not even when she’d worked for the Holbrookes as their ungifted servant.
Kael was a silent sentinel as he watched the exchange. He placed a hand on Lucian’s shoulder, as if telling him to stand down.
Lucian ignored him, looking instead to Effie. His dark eye glittered, the metallic flecks all but snuffed out as he waited. He didn’t speak or give any indication of what he was waiting for, but he didn’t need to. She already knew. If she hinted in any way that she didn’t want to go with Ronan, Lucian would destroy him.
It was then that she finally understood. Of all the power and strength these men collectively possessed, only one of them should truly be feared.
But never by her.
While Ronan, Kael, and Lucian were all warriors with countless kills between them, there was a hint of madness blazing in Lucian’s umber eyes that bespoke a primal resolve the other’s lacked. As he stood there, staring down at her, a part of his mask was stripped away, lying bare a piece of his soul.
Guardian was not just a title; it was Lucian’s defining purpose. There was nothing that would get between him and that duty. With a single, penetrating look, Lucian told her that he would protect her with his dying breath, no matter what she’d done or the potential fallout of his actions. Things were far from resolved between them. She owed him another apology at the very least, but for now the weight of her mistakes abated enough for her to draw in an easy breath and shift her focus to the man beside her.
“You picked a hell of a morning to arrive,” she muttered, pulling Ronan’s icy glare to her.
His expression softened and he lifted a scarred hand to brush away the last of her tears. “It would seem you left a few things out in your letter,” Ronan said.
She could feel the other three men staring at her, but she ignored them. “I don’t recall writing that letter to you.”
Ronan smirked, holding out a hand for her to take. “Perks of the job.”
She placed her hand in his, allowing him to lead her from the hall as if he’d done it a thousand times before. The flood of relief she felt at their escape was impossible to ignore. She could have kissed Ronan she was so grateful, except kisses were what had gotten her into this mess in the first place, so she settled for a teasing question instead.
“Do you know where you’re going?”
“Not remotely.” Despite the words, he walked with a confident swagger back toward the central archive. “Now that it’s just the two of us, you going to tell me what that was about?” Ronan asked.
Effie grimaced. “I’m never drinking again.”
His booming laugh bounced off the walls. “Oh, Effie. I can only imagine the trouble you’ve gotten into. At least you’re keeping them on their toes.”
“That’s one way to look at it.”
“Fine, keep your secrets for now. I’ll pull them from you eventually.”
Effie had no doubt that he would. She’d seen the way he’d looked at Kieran and Lucian. Not wanting to think about how that would play out, she asked, “How did you even get here?”
Ronan held out a dark purple stone. “You asked for help. Here I am.”
“You’ve been to the citadel before and were able to use the Kaelpas stone to get here directly? Why do I find that unlikely?”
Ronan grinned. “One of the hooded fuckers was waiting for us in the jungle. He brought us here.”
Effie shook her head at his irreverence, biting back a smile. “Us? So, the rest of the Circle is here as well?”
“Am I not good enough for you?” he asked, quirking his brow.
Effie grinned. “I mean no offense, but I asked Helena for help.”
Ronan feigned being wounded. “Helena and Von are taking some much-needed time for themselves. She was unavailable, but I did not get the impression from your letter that you could wait.”
Effie squeezed his hand. “Thank you for coming. You assumed correctly.”
A slight feminine cough met her words as they turned into the circular room.
Effie looked up, catching sight of a woman whose mass of black hair was a tangle of curls and braids. Small charms twinkled like stars in the dark cloud of her mane as Reyna, leader of the Night Stalkers, moved closer. Her face was clear of the swirling paint she wore when heading into battle, and her leaf-green eyes crinkled as she smiled warmly.
“Nice to see you again, Keeper.”
Effie bowed. “You as well, Lady Reyna.”
The Night Stalkers lived in the Forest of Whispers, a sprawling forest that bordered Bael along its Southern end. They were one of the Forsaken tribes; those that had been forgotten by the Chosen for not living by the way of the Mother. Living amongst the trees, and using shadows to cloak themselves, the Night Stalkers were the protectors of the forest—and they were deadly assassins.
If Helena couldn’t be here, Reyna and Ronan were far from a consolation prize.
Three hooded figures glided into the room.
Reyna and Ronan lost their smiles and Effie sighed.
So much for getting reacquainted.
Chapter 33
“We are glad to see that our daughter’s warning reached you.”
Ronan’s eyes narrowed at the use of their psychic voices, but his voice was steady as he replied. “Effie is part of the Kiri’s court. We will always come when aid is requested.”
Effie flushed with pleasure. Helena had said the same the last time they spoke, but to hear Ronan reinforce the words helped settle something inside her that had been unmoored since arriving in the citadel.
“We fear that this new threat is just beginning.”
“That is what her letter said.”
“The Corruptor’s magic has left a stain on the land.”
“The stain must be cleansed.”
“Before the perversion of life goes unchecked.”
“How do we find the stains?”
“We are still seeking an answer.”
“There’s no mention of this in any of the prophecies?” Ronan asked with thinly veiled disbelief.
The Triumvirate’s answer was silence.
Understanding how unique and biased prophecies could be, Effie thought it wasn’t so much that there wasn’t a prophecy as perhaps a sign that had been misunderstood. They were likely still in the process of working through the Hall of Prophecies searching for a pattern or clue they’d originally missed.
“You mentioned the Shadows are sentient now?” Ronan asked, turning to Effie.
Effie nodded, revulsion and fear snaking through her at the reminder. “Yes, whatever tethered them to Rowena snapped when she died, but did not undo her magic entirely.”
Ronan frowned and exchanged a glance with Reyna. “Does that sounds familiar to you?”
“Sounds like her Generals,” Reyna murmured.
Effie flinched. Rowena’s Generals were the members of her corrupted Circle. The men whose power was left intact after she bound them to her so that she could unleash them on Elysia. They were the only Shadows with access to elemental magic. They were responsible for the death of Darrin and her grandmother.
Taking a shaky breath, Effie forced herself to pay attention to the conversation and not get lost in her grief.
“But the Generals were destroyed,” Ronan pointed out.
“As were the Shadows that were nearby when she died.”<
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Ronan and Reyna exchanged a look.
Reyna spoke first. “Serena mentioned that packs had escaped. Perhaps they were too far away when she died to be affected.”
Ronan nodded. “They regained their independence, but their power was too corrupted for them to fully return to themselves.”
Effie shuddered. Those creatures could be anywhere. Worse, the farther away they got, the further their infection spread.
“We need to get the word out. If the Shadows have already attacked here, they will have struck other villages as well. We should be able to track them if we can trace their path,” Ronan murmured, his gaze calculating.
“I can dispatch the Night Stalkers,” Reyna offered.
Ronan nodded and lifted his eyes back to the Triumvirate. “I would like to see the attack site.”
They dipped their heads in a nod.
“What do you hope to find there?” Effie asked, a sense of foreboding taking hold of her at his request.
“A sense of the corruption; to see if we can recognize the feel of it to warn the others what to look for,” Reyna answered for him.
Pinpricks shot up her arms and Effie rubbed her hands up and down trying to alleviate the sensation.
“Daughter?” Smoke inquired.
Effie shook her head, unable to speak as a wave of nausea caused her to stumble.
“Effie?” Ronan asked, his hand snaking out to grab her as her knees buckled.
She was already screaming before the vision fully pulled her under.
Tendrils of darkness wrapped themselves around her body, slithering across her skin until they covered every inch of her. She burned, but not with the heat of fire. It was the searing pain of absolute cold.
This was the absence of heat . . . of life.
Effie clamped her mouth closed, her only defense against the darkness that had her suspended in the air.
Eyes wide, she scanned what used to be a thriving rain forest. The trees were skeletal, their branches dangling like withered limbs beside the corpse of their once beautiful trunks.
The sky above swirled with clouds, lightning flickering deep within the foggy depths, as more of the tendrils shot out from the clouds moving straight toward her.