Rhys sighed. “I’m sorry. You weren’t returning my texts or calls, and I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Wait for what?” I demanded. My heart thudded hard in my chest as I stared at his tight expression. There was something he wasn’t telling me here, something more. “What have you done with Aelwyn, Rhys?”
“She’s been returned to the Seelie Court,” he said gently.
“What do you mean ‘returned’ to the Seelie Court?”
Rhys spoke gently. “It was her wish to return to her homeland when she . . .”
He didn’t say the words, but I couldn’t appreciate his sensitivity. Not when I was still processing what he’d just said. Like he knew for sure that’s where she’d gone because he’d been a part of it. And I didn’t just mean now that she was gone. He’d known about this all along, and he’d kept it from me. No wonder Aelwyn had told me to go to Rhys. They’d been in on whatever this was together.
My pulse raced faster now, but it had nothing to do with attraction and everything to do with fear. Rhys was holding back. And if there was some lie, some secret he was keeping, I needed to know. I damn sure couldn’t let him betray me twice.
“How do you know all this?” I demanded, my voice low to keep it from shaking.
“Because,” he said, “I took her there myself last night. I used the portal that brought her here almost twenty years ago. The same portal that brought you here with her. The same portal that brought me when I was ten.” His voice was sad, and I knew he was bracing himself for the truth he was about to admit. “We’re all three from Faerie, Gwen. And we’re connected in ways you don’t yet know. But I think . . . it’s time to tell you. Aelwyn would want that, and I can’t keep you safe any longer without admitting the truth.”
“What truth?” I asked.
“The truth about who you really are.”
“And who am I?” I asked.
Rhys took a deep breath. “You’re Gwenllian, a member of the Seelie royal court. Your father was a warrior, a Protector. You inherited your gift with the ink from your mother. She uses her gift to fight for the Seelie Court in the war against the Unseelie. The dark fae have been after her for years, hoping to take her power for themselves. Hoping to take you. Your parents sent you here as a baby in order to hide you from Unseelie spies.”
“How do you know all of this?” I asked.
“It was part of my mission to know.”
“Your mission . . .” I repeated, my voice breaking underneath the weight of my grief. Aelwyn was gone, but Rhys was here, and he was breaking my heart all over again. Everything I thought I knew about myself, about her, about him, was a lie.
Chapter 7
“Say something,” Rhys said quietly.
But I couldn’t. All I could do was blink back the tears and put one foot in front of the other, my gaze locked on the door behind him. But a hand on my wrist stopped me just before I reached the knob. Rhys squeezed and yanked, twisting me back to face him. Instead of anger, I found desperation in his eyes.
“Say something,” he repeated, this time pleading.
“There’s nothing left to say.” My voice sounded strangely ragged, even to me.
“There’s everything left to say,” he argued stubbornly.
“And you’ve had my entire life to say it.”
He flinched. “Let me explain.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” My shoulders sagged with real defeat this time. Rhys had won again, though the prize was twisted: my broken heart.
“You do,” he insisted, tugging on my hand—and I let him because it struck me that I couldn’t remember the last time I’d touched his skin. Even after all the lies, that’s what I noticed. “Five minutes, Gwen. Give me five minutes, and after that, if you want to walk out of here, I won’t stop you.”
I eyed him. A beat of silence passed.
“You’re not the only one who lost her, you know.” His voice broke.
I watched as a single tear leaked from the corner of his eye, and my heart ached at the sight of it. He was right. Lies or not, he’d lost Aelwyn too, and I knew he’d loved her just as much as I had.
“Five minutes,” I whispered.
Rhys nodded and blew out a breath. “Okay. The truth is that your parents sent Aelwyn here, with you, from Faerie. The dark fae had tracked you all, and your parents knew you weren’t safe with them anymore. They used their fae contacts here on the Court to get approval and help erase any paper trail of your arrival or the names of your real family. Aelwyn gave you her last name as another way to throw the dark fae off your trail. She was vigilant with her wards and careful to keep out any fae she hadn’t personally vetted. Everything she did was to keep you safe all these years.”
I felt my knees wobble and threaten to buckle as I thought back to how adamant Aelwyn had always been about strange fae coming around. “How do you know so much? Did Aelwyn tell you all of this?”
“She did, but that’s not the reason I know.” He hesitated, his gaze flicking from my face to my legs. “You should sit.”
Without waiting for a response, he walked behind his desk and opened a drawer. He drew out a couple of glasses and a bottle of amber liquid decorated with a label I didn’t recognize. Not bothering to ask first, he poured a shot and handed it to me. I took it and sank onto the edge of the couch without a word, watching as he poured one for himself and then knocked it back. When it was gone, he immediately refilled the glass.
After a long moment, Rhys continued, “I was born in Faerie. Both of my parents were soldiers for the Seelie Court there. When I was five, they were both killed in a skirmish with Unseelie mercenaries.”
“God, Rhys, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” The words were out before I could stop them. The feeling of loss was too raw and too familiar not to feel empathy for him. All this time I’d known him and he’d never told me this. So many other things, but not this.
He nodded slowly, and I could see the grief it still caused him. “Thank you. After that, I was drafted into the junior academy. A training program for future fae soldiers. I worked hard, determined to avenge my parents, and because of that, my performance stood out. When I was ten, I was chosen for a smaller team, and I graduated from that as a Protector.”
Protector. Just like the letter from my mother had described. I took a deep breath, my heart pounding. “What’s a Protector?”
“We’re what you might call a bodyguard. We’re tasked with keeping a specific fae safe. Our missions are usually more dangerous than a soldier’s, because we’re on our own without backup. We’re the only one standing between our assignment and the threat.”
“Kind of like Secret Service then?”
He nodded and hesitated before adding, “I was tasked with protecting you.”
“Me?” Shock, confusion, and anger were a chaotic cloud inside me. Quickly, I did the math, counting back to how old he’d been when he’d come to Aelwyn. He’d only been ten years old when they’d given him the assignment? I vaguely remembered him moving in with us around that time, and we’d become fast friends. In fact, by the time I’d grown into my power, he’d been my only friend.
All this time, and he’d never let on . . .
Rhys set his glass aside and knelt in front of me. “Your gift, Gwen, with the ink. The tattoos . . . You’re very special. There are enemies of the Seelie Court that want that gift so they can use it for their own gain.”
“Those enemies, the dark fae you were talking about,” I said grimly. “That’s who Aelwyn was hiding me from.”
“Yes.”
“The night she died, she mentioned it. But I was only a baby when I left. How would they know I have this gift?”
Rhys grimaced. “We suspect they didn’t know for sure. But since your mother has it and your father was a seer, they’re betting you’re going to be valuable to them in some way.”
“And now that they found Aelwyn, they know for sure,” I finished.
Rhys didn’t answer.r />
“My gift,” I repeated, twisting the word with as much cynicism as I could muster. “More like a curse.” Rhys opened his mouth to respond, but I redirected—mostly because I was not ready to address any of the crazy, unbelievable things he’d just said about who I was and where I really came from. “Tell me where you took Aelwyn. Tell me how to get there.”
“There’s a portal about three miles northwest of Aelwyn’s house. It leads directly to the outskirts of the Seelie Court’s territory, where Aelwyn is from. Last night, I took her through it and delivered her to the Seelie guard on the other side.”
“You actually went to Faerie . . .” I wanted to ask about my real mother, but I held back. I couldn’t let my emotions run away with me. Not now. Not while I still needed answers. “How? Wouldn’t the Court here sense the portal opening?”
He nodded. “They did. I had authorization, so it wasn’t a problem.”
I stared at him, but it was like staring at a stranger now. He’d gotten special permission from the Court to open a portal? The only way he could have managed that was if everything he had said were true. He was a Protector. A special agent from beyond the veil sent here for the sole purpose of protecting me from the worst of the worst. Like Ada. I snorted. No, whoever was after me was worse than Ada. That made me shudder.
“What happened to make them send you here?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“For ten years, it was just Aelwyn and me. So, did something happen for them to think we needed you? Did someone come after me?”
“No. You had another Protector. An older fae named Leif. He lived just past Fred and Betsy, the human couple next door.”
“Oh.” I let that sink in, remembering the older man Aelwyn had mentioned when I was younger. A friend of hers who liked to bring us fresh vegetables from the farmer’s market in town, until one day he just stopped coming around. I barely remembered him now.
“When you were six, Leif retired, and I was sent in his place.”
“You were only ten,” I said, still a little stunned that he’d received a mission so young.
“My age was an advantage they believed outweighed my inexperience.”
I snarled, the betrayal twisting further. “Because they knew you and I would be friends.”
His expression mirrored the pain I felt. “Gwen—”
“Was any of it real?”
“What?” he asked.
“Our friendship. Was it all part of your mission to make me trust you? To make me spend time with you. Or was any of it real?”
“Gwen.” He softened. “Of course it was real. Every second of it was absolutely real. You are everything to me.”
His words sounded so sincere, but I couldn’t reconcile them with his rejection. I gripped the glass tightly in my hand, desperate not to relive the moment that had ended our friendship three years earlier. “What was my mother’s name?”
“What?” Rhys blinked at me.
I scowled. “If you want me to believe what you’re saying is true, then you need to give me something I can verify. What was my real mother’s name?”
“I don’t see how that will help you verify anything. It’s not on any records here.”
“Humor me.”
Rhys sighed. “Her name is Moonlaith.”
The words were so soft. So certain. And an exact match to the name on the strange letter I’d uncovered in Aelwyn’s study. Which meant Rhys wasn’t lying. Not about any of it. Knowing that didn’t make this any easier.
“Wow. The letter was real,” I whispered.
Rhys rose from where he’d crouched and slid onto the sofa next to me. “What letter?”
“I found a letter when I was going through Aelwyn’s things . . .” In a halting voice, I told him what it had said. And the name that was scrawled at the bottom.
“It’s true. Moonlaith is your mother,” he confirmed.
“Is?” I tensed. “You mean she’s still alive?”
“Yes.”
“And my father? You said he was a seer?”
Rhys looked away.
“Rhys?”
When he turned back to me, his expression was pained. “Gwen, he . . .”
I swallowed hard. “Just tell me the truth, Rhys.”
“He was a seer,” Rhys agreed quietly. “He was also your mother’s Protector. According to the report, he saw the dark fae coming for you. You weren’t going to make it out, so he stayed behind to buy you some time. He was killed defending you and Aelwyn on the day you were both smuggled into Havenwood Falls. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I . . . Thank you for telling me,” I said. He nodded, and I bit my lip. “But my mother . . . you could contact her? Could we maybe go through the portal and see her?”
“Yes, I—” He frowned at the sight of my face. “Gwen, hold on. It’s not safe right now, okay? When this is all over, I promise you, I’ll take you to see her, but not until then.”
“Okay.” I forced myself to relax and focus on the rest of what my mother had written. “So it’s true about the mistletoe?”
Rhys nodded. “The mistletoe keeps others from detecting your gift. Actually, according to Aelwyn, it also keeps people from really noticing you or becoming too interested. Another protection.”
I gaped at him. “Is that why everyone’s being so damn friendly lately? Because I stopped taking the mistletoe?”
He shrugged, but the half smirk he gave confirmed my suspicions. “You have something against folks being neighborly?”
I leaned back, stunned. “All this time, I thought she was just a health nut. Always shoving herbal supplements at me and insisting they were vitamins.”
“Well, they are good for you.”
I glared. “You knew all this time, and you never told me. And neither did she.” More than anything, I wished Aelwyn was still here to defend herself. To hug me. To let me forgive her. How did you forgive a dead person?
“After your Awakening, Aelwyn wanted to tell you, but I had orders. I took an oath, Gwen. I couldn’t break that without permission. It was too dangerous. And Aelwyn respected that, even if she didn’t like it. That’s why she didn’t tell you about her burial wishes. I’m sorry I went behind your back about that, but I couldn’t do anything that would break my oath.”
“And now? Why are you telling me now?”
“Because your safety trumps everything. Even the oath. Even . . . my feelings.”
I hadn’t expected him to go there—and because he’d surprised me, I faltered. For a split second, I knew my emotions showed on my face. By the time I’d rearranged my features, Rhys had leaned in, his warm hand resting on my knee. His dark eyes were intense and stormy and full of . . . whatever it was that had made me ever think he cared about me like I’d cared about him.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled.
“Gwen, I know I hurt you. I’m so sorry for that. But . . . I couldn’t let it go that far. My oath forbade—”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to explain.”
“I do. I should have explained a long time ago. The kiss . . .”
“Was a mistake,” I finished for both of us, and in one swig, I knocked back the liquid in my glass, welcoming the burn that followed. It was sharp enough to drown out the twinge of pain in my chest my own words had caused.
“No.” Rhys grabbed my leg and pulled me closer, shifting me so that we were knee to knee—and eye to eye. His swirled with emotion. Mine . . . I wasn’t sure what I looked like now, except that I was terrified and breathless and completely mesmerized by him. Again. I swallowed hard against the pounding in my chest. He could hear it, I was sure of that. “Gwen, that kiss was so much better than any of the times I’d imagined it happening.”
“You . . . imagined it?”
“Of course.” His expression softened. His lips curved into a smile, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his mouth. “I’ve wanted you probably since the moment I saw you. Even at te
n, when girls weren’t on my radar, you always managed to get my attention. You were my favorite person before the end of that first week at Aelwyn’s house. By high school, I was a lost cause. You were way too skinny, with legs too long for the rest of you. But you had this passion and fire that lit you from the inside out. You were all I thought about. Still are.”
His hand came up to cup my face, and I tried not to lean into his calloused fingertips as they stroked my cheek. I shuddered as he leaned in.
“What about the oath?” I whispered.
“Screw the oath.” His lips were only a breath away now. “I shouldn’t have let it ruin this. I want you back in my life. It’s been hell without you.”
I wasn’t even sure I was breathing anymore.
A sharp cramp in my hip sent me jerking, my spine curving until my entire body was pulled taut. I gasped as one of my tattoos came to life, stretching and growling as it animated against my skin.
“Damn it,” I said between clenched teeth.
Rhys’s brows dipped, and he leaned away as I spasmed again. “What’s wrong?”
“The fucking hellhound.” I shoved to my feet, peeling my shirt back to reveal the canine I suspected would be shifting and shimmering as it moved against the canvas of my right ribcage. I didn’t need to remove my clothes for the ink to break free, but I needed to be sure which tattoo had begun to wake up.
Rhys stared, eyes wide, and his breath whooshed out as he watched the tattoo come to life on my skin. “Holy shit, Gwen. I mean, I knew you could . . . that they were . . . I’ve just never actually seen your ink come to life,” he finally finished.
I gritted my teeth against the pain as the hound scratched and tore, trying to break free from where it had been stretched from my side to my back—an exact replica of the one I’d inked on a client almost four years ago now. It was one of the scarier magical tats I’d done before I’d realized how deadly the consequences could be if activated in the wrong hands. There were only a few still floating around unused out there that could actually do serious harm. The rest were either for Ada—and I didn’t like to think about those—or harmless. I’d hoped after this long, maybe the hellhound would never actually be used.
Tragic Ink: (A Havenwood Falls Novella) Page 6