by Donna Grant
“Was Rhi awake when Ulrik took her?” Phelan asked Con.
“Nay.”
Rhys shot Con a glare over his shoulder. “Really? One-word answers?”
“I doona know if she’ll wake, to answer your next question, Phelan,” Con said.
Phelan cleared his throat twice before he asked, “Has she ever … done anything like that before?”
“You mean blow up a place?” Rhys asked with a wry smile. “Once.”
“And she was all right,” Phelan said in relief and threw a smile over his shoulder.
Kiril had only to look at Con to know that everything was far from all right. “What are you keeping from us?”
Phelan halted and faced them. “Answer him, Con, or we doona leave.”
With Phelan being the only one to see the Fae doorways, he could keep them there as long as he wanted. Kiril’s gaze moved to Con while he waited for him to answer.
“There’s a verra good chance Rhi is gone from us.”
Phelan’s gaze slid away to stare off at nothing. “You think Balladyn turned her.”
“I didna say that,” Con said in a kinder voice. “I’m merely stating that she was held for a while.”
Rhys briefly squeezed Phelan’s shoulder. “We willna know anything until we see her again.”
“If we see her, you mean.” Phelan’s blue-gray eyes were filled with apprehension.
Kiril looked at Con, waiting for him to reply. When he didn’t, Kiril said, “It might take some time, but if she’ll return for anyone, it’ll be you, Phelan.”
“And if she returns, but isna the same?” Phelan asked. “If she’s Dark?”
Rhys shook his head. “She willna be. No’ Rhi.”
The fact Con didn’t utter a word was deafening. Kiril knew Con wouldn’t say anything else as long as Phelan was around. Then again, he might try to keep it from the rest of them as well.
Phelan turned his back to them. “Let’s go home.”
He took two steps and was gone. Rhys glanced at Kiril before he followed Phelan, but Kiril held back.
“What did Ulrik say to you?” he asked.
Con stared at him with hard eyes. “Nothing worth mentioning. He was running his mouth.”
“And Rhi?”
“Doona count on her help in the future.”
Kiril squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. “You think she’s now Dark?”
“I think she willna be the same. It doesna help that Ulrik has her.”
“You mean there’s a chance she’ll stay with him.”
Con gave a small shake of his head. “I’m merely saying it’s a possibility.”
Kiril pivoted and walked through the doorway with Con on his heels. As soon as they returned to Earth and the gardens at Blackwood Manor they encountered a full-on battle. Both pulled up short.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Phelan asked angrily as he growled, showing his fangs and using his claws to slash a Dark Fae’s head off.
Con let out a rumbling growl and glanced at the gathering rain clouds that didn’t quite block the sun. “Phelan, keep this contained.”
“Already done,” the Warrior stated.
There was a loud roar as Rhys dove from the sky in the form of a yellow dragon. Kiril took off running toward a group of Dark who were gathering their magic to direct at Rhys.
Kiril jumped into the air, shifting as he did, and slammed his left wing into the group, severing their heads. He spread his wings and sailed straight to the sky, only to turn and glide as he surveyed the battle.
A flash of light glinted off the metallic gold scales as Con roared loudly and swept through a group of Dark. Kiril drew in a deep breath and let loose a volley of icy breaths with Rhys blowing fire next to him.
Soon flames engulfed the house while Dark were frozen in place before being shattered into a million pieces by Phelan. The Dark scattered as they tried to decide to fight or save the house. Con didn’t give them a choice as he caught several in his grip and crushed them.
Phelan was doing his part on the ground as he dodged their magic and killed any Dark who was stupid enough to get close to him.
Kiril spotted more Dark coming toward the house. “We need to leave. Now.”
Rhys swooped down and grabbed Phelan before he flew into the swollen rain clouds. Kiril made a pass over the house as he searched for any sign of Shara. Lightning forked through the sky, followed closely by a loud rumble of thunder that rolled on for several seconds. Con soared past him, his tail hitting Kiril on his wing.
“It’s time we returned to Dreagan,” Con said.
Kiril spotted Shara’s father, who stood still, his gaze on the dragons, amid the Dark scrambling around him. Kiril titled his wings and turned to follow Con and Rhys.
“Well, that was fun,” Rhys said, sarcasm dripping from his words.
Con said, “We should’ve remembered where we would return to.”
“We got away and made a dent in them.” Rhys laughed. “I didna like being surprised with it, but I did enjoy killing those ass wipes.”
Kiril didn’t join in the laughter. “We were lucky. If more Dark had been there, things could’ve gotten bad.”
“But it didna,” Rhys said.
Kiril glanced over at his friend and saw a part of his hind leg was charred. “You didna say you were injured.”
“I’m fine.”
“Fine?” Con asked angrily. “If everything is fine, they why are you no’ healing?”
None of them mentioned that there was only one being who could kill—or seriously injure—a King.
“You three are doing that mental-talking thing, aye?” Phelan asked in a shout as he looked up at them.
In response, Rhys tucked his wings and rolled several times through the air. When he stopped, Phelan’s lips were pulled back in a big smile. Kiril looked over at Constantine to see a worried frown upon his face.
Something was wrong if Rhys wasn’t healing. They healed almost instantly, and though a Dark Fae’s magic could hurt them, it had never done anything like that before. The only Dragon Kings that had been there were the three of them, and neither he nor Con had sent any magic close to Rhys. Who then was responsible?
Kiril didn’t like the apprehension and anxiety that nestled uncomfortably in his gut. He kept glancing at Rhys’s injury, but not once did it heal.
They flew high in the clouds dodging planes. A couple of times Rhys wasn’t able to hide his discomfort, causing Kiril and Con to fly on either side of him. They let him set the pace, keeping him a little ahead of them at all times so they could keep watch. Kiril’s worry grew with each flap of his wings.
By the time they reached Dreagan, Rhys could no longer hide the fact that he was in tremendous pain. He struggled to remain in the air, dropping several feet at a time, only to fight to continue to stay with them.
Kiril had never been so glad to see the familiar mountains of Dreagan. They glided lower so that they could touch the top of the mountains if they wanted. He hung back behind Rhys while Con stayed beside him. Kiril grew more worried for his friend as Rhys’s breathing became labored, his sides heaving.
When the manor came into view, Rhys stopped trying to remain in the air. He flew low, dropping Phelan in the field behind the large opening in the mountain.
Con tucked his wings and flew inside the entrance first. Kiril flapped his wings to hover in the air as he watched Rhys try to make it to the mountain. Rhys’s left wing scraped the ground and crumpled, sending him crashing into the ground where he lay still as stone.
Kiril dove toward him, spreading his wings to land just before he hit the ground. As soon as he touched down, Kiril shifted into human form and knelt beside his friend.
“Rhys?” he asked.
“What happened?” Phelan asked breathlessly as he raced up.
Con handed Kiril a pair of jeans as he walked out of the mountain and inspected Rhys’s wound. “Just as I thought. This was done with dragon magic.”
“I also didna use magic,” Con said softly.
“What the hell?” came a shout behind them.
Kiril turned to see Laith and Kellan come running toward them. They skidded to a halt as a wide shadow passed over them. Kiril looked up to see an amber dragon circling them. A moment later and the dragon descended, shifting into human form before he touched the ground and rolled to a stop. Tristan stood and rushed to them.
“I didna know he was injured,” Phelan said and wiped a hand down his face lined with concern.
Tristan stood beside Rhys inspecting the injury. “There’s no doubt it was dragon magic.”
“If it wasna us, then who?” Kiril asked.
Con’s face mottled red as he lifted his gaze to the horizon. “Ulrik.”
Tristan turned to Kellan. “Such events come to you so you can record them as Historian. Who did this to Rhys?”
“It’s no’ that simple,” Kellan said and scratched his jaw. “I doona see your everyday lives. I see battles, meetings involving our future.”
“The important stuff,” Laith grumbled. “This is important. This was a battle.”
Kellan shrugged. “I wish I could help. But right or no’, that’s the way of it. I doona have a choice of what I get to see or doona see.”
“Only dragons can use dragon magic,” Kiril pointed out.
Tristan laid a comforting hand on Rhys. “Kellan, what if you try to discover what happened?”
Everyone turned to Kellan as he closed his eyes. Several seconds passed before he took a deep breath. “I see the battle,” Kellan said. “I see the Dark Fae and the house. I see the four of you fighting—Phelan in Warrior form, and the rest as dragons.”
Kiril held his breath, both wanting to know if it was Ulrik so they would have an answer, and hoping it wasn’t him.
“I see Kiril laying ice and Rhys laying flames along the Dark. I see Rhys grabbing Phelan before being hit with the dragon magic. Then you all are returning home.” Kellan opened his eyes and looked at Con. “I can no’ see who directed the magic at Rhys, only the impact.”
“Which tells us nothing,” Laith said into the silence that followed.
Con faced Kellan. “Only a dragon can use our magic. The only other King is Ulrik.”
“Aye, but we bound his magic,” Kiril said.
Con’s black gaze cut to him. “He’s figured out a way. Maybe Druids are helping him, or even the Fae. I doona care the reasoning. What this tells me is that it’s time I killed Ulrik.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
One minute Shara was fighting for her life against the black smoke, and the next she was surrounded by light so intense she couldn’t open her eyes. She sat huddled, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she waited for death to find her.
Except nothing happened.
Seconds stretched to moments. She dared to peek and see if the light was still there. It was, but not nearly as blinding. Just bright enough to chase off all of the darkness.
A gentle hand touched her shoulder as a woman’s voice, kind and soft, said, “You can open your eyes now, Shara.”
It wasn’t a voice she recognized. More importantly, not a single Dark Fae would ever sound so … pleasant. Shara was used to the taste of fear, but there was courage added to her arsenal now as well.
She lifted her head at the same time she opened her eyes, only to have her lungs lock as she looked at the room. It was filled with flowers—some tall, some short—but each petal drenched with color from bright to pastel. The floor and ceiling were white as were the tall columns that held up the roof. There were no walls, just open air showing nothing but brilliant blue skies and rich, green grass.
Shara stood, her legs shaky and her heart pounding against her ribs. She knew where she was, but she couldn’t believe it was possible.
“I gather I’ve surprised you.”
Shara turned at the sound of the voice. Her gaze locked on a woman of unspeakable beauty with long, flowing locks of coal black hair and eyes that sparkled silver. Her smile was kind, and her eyes knowing.
She was suddenly very conscious of her red eyes and silver lock of hair. Shara glanced around to see if anyone else was in the room even as she noted the very human attire on the Light Fae.
“You know where you are, but do you know who I am?” she asked.
Shara shook her head. “Did you bring me here?”
“I did, Shara. As for who I am, I’m Usaeil.”
The Queen of the Light. Shara felt her knees weaken. She was standing before the ruler of the Light, and still had no idea why.
Usaeil smiled and swept her hand to a set of chairs. “Why don’t we sit? You’ve had a bit of a shock.”
Shara’s legs felt wooden as she followed Usaeil to the delicate-looking chairs of soft green. She sank down on one and waited for the queen to continue.
Usaeil regarded her for a long moment as she relaxed in the chair. “Tell me about Kiril.”
“Kiril?” Just thinking of him brought a pain to the center of Shara’s chest. “He’s a good man. An honorable Dragon King.”
“Yes, he is both of those things. However, I want to know your thoughts on him.”
Shara rested her hands on her thighs as her mind drifted back to the short time she’d had with him. Her stomach clenched when she thought about his kisses, just as desire unfurled at the thought of being in his arms.
She blinked away the tears that gathered. “He trusted me when my own family didn’t. He offered me sanctuary at Dreagan if I wanted it. He’s unlike any male I’ve ever known. Or ever will know. I care about him deeply.”
Love. It was love she felt, but she dared not say it, not to anyone. She was a Dark Fae. The only ones who would ever accept her were her own kind. At least they used to. They wouldn’t now.
“You risked your life to help him even though he believed you’d betrayed him,” the queen said.
Shara swallowed as she focused on the Light Fae. “I knew he wouldn’t listen to my explanations, and they didn’t matter anyway. He came for Rhi, and his friends came for both of them. I wanted to help.”
“Do you know Balladyn was once a highly regarded member of my court and army?”
“He told me as much.”
“Taraeth broke him as Taraeth has done to so many of my people,” the queen said sadly. “Rhi was lost without Balladyn. He was like a brother to her.”
“And yet he coveted her for his own.”
Usaeil’s lips compressed. “Yes, I know. Everyone knew but Rhi. I thought Rhi might come to see him as her future husband, but then she met…”
She trailed off, but Shara knew who she meant. “Her Dragon King.”
“Aye. Their love was instant and powerful. It, like their desires, wouldn’t be denied.”
“Did you approve?”
Usaeil grinned slightly. “It wouldn’t have mattered one way or another. There was no stopping the two of them. Until … he ended it.”
“Do you know why?”
She shook her head. “Only the two of them know the truth, and I doubt either will ever tell anyone. Rhi returned to us broken. It was Balladyn who helped to heal her. Or so we thought. Rhi, in her mindless state, ventured into the wrong doorway. A doorway, mind you, that not even I dare go into.”
“Her lover did, didn’t he?” Shara guessed.
“Aye. As soon as he learned where she went, he followed. No Dragon King had ever entered a Fae doorway before.”
“How did he find it? Only the Fae can see our doorways.”
Usaeil crossed one long leg over the other. “He asked me to take him to it, and I did. I honestly didn’t expect him to go through it, but not only did he, he also returned Rhi t
o us. To this day thousands of years later, she doesn’t know what he did for her.”
“Why not tell her?” Shara didn’t think she could keep such a thing to herself.
“Because he asked me not to.”
“And you complied? I didn’t think the Kings and the Fae liked each other.”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “The Light get along all right with them, though we tend to keep our distance. I agreed to his demand because it was the right thing to do. If Rhi knew what he did for her, she would go to him, and he made it clear there could never be anything between them again.”
“What a sad story.” Then it hit Shara that there might be a reason the queen had shared it with her. “Is this your way of telling me that there can never be anything between me and Kiril?”
“Not at all. I don’t know why I told you about Rhi and him.”
“Who was her lover?”
Usaeil merely smiled. “That you won’t get from me.”
“No one will tell me.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
Shara found that she had relaxed during their chat. She leaned over and smelled a bright yellow flower. “The Dark Fae don’t come to the side of Light.”
“We share a realm, Shara. The invisible line that divides our realm doesn’t keep the Dark from taking the Light or the Light from venturing into the Dark.”
She met the queen’s silver gaze. “Why am I here?”
“I’ve watched you, you know. I’ve seen you with Kiril, and I’ve seen the decisions you made. He changed you.”
“Yes,” she admitted in a mumble as she looked at the floor. “I can’t be the Fae my family expected me to be, but I can’t be anything else. I’m Dark.”
“Are you?” Usaeil asked casually. “I don’t believe so.”
Shara’s gaze snapped up. She lifted the lock of silver hair. “Look at my hair. Look at my eyes. I’m Dark.”
“I see one thick strand of silver in your hair, yes.”
Shara could feel her heart pounding against her ribs. The one glance she had spared around the large room hadn’t shown a mirror. She wondered if there was one nearby.