by Donna Grant
“I’d be standing with you, and the answer is yes.” Oddly, he wasn’t as surprised by his reply as he would have been months ago. Rhi was the only person he never doubted. Mainly because, until recently, she had been unable to handle the pain that assaulted her when she lied. But also because Rhi didn’t betray others.
Ever.
It was why his loyalty to her had never wavered. It was why he had gone into the Dark dungeons to free her. It was why he tried to help her with anything she needed.
There was a hint of a smile as she stepped back, wiping her face. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“I know the anguish you’re carrying. Along with the anger and distress. You’ll survive until Usaeil is toppled.”
Rhi sniffed loudly, her gaze lowering to the floor. “I knew she’d changed. I knew she’d begun to resent me, but I never thought she’d banish me.”
“It was the one thing she knew would hurt you the most.”
Silver eyes met his. “She succeeded.”
“Doona let her know that.”
“Oh, I won’t,” Rhi replied with a wink.
Ulrik paused before he said, “Balladyn was here.”
“He told you.”
“Aye. Usaeil banished you after she realized that Balladyn was King now and wouldna be helping her kill you.”
Rhi nodded slowly. “What else did he say?”
“We’re no’ exactly friends. He didna come here to share his concerns with me. We spoke of you. He wanted to go to you, but he feared you’d either be with the Kings, or no’ want to see him.”
She looked down at her painted nails in a dark blue with silver tips. “I was with the Kings.”
Ulrik almost asked if she was with him, but decided not to push things. “Then perhaps it’s better he didna go to you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked with a frown.
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I never fully understood the ache you felt at being told you couldn’t remain at Dreagan. How did you survive it?”
“One day at a time. Find something to focus on. For me, it was revenge.”
“Usaeil hasn’t given me any other options. Revenge will be mine, as well.”
Ulrik smiled at Rhi. “Then that’s the queen’s ultimate mistake. She doesna know what you’re capable of. Yet.”
PART TWO
To trust is to be betrayed.
—ULRIK
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
There was nothing quite so defeating as discovering that magic wasn’t the answer to everything. Unfortunately, Eilish learned that the hard way while trying to fight Mikkel.
And she had two broken legs to prove it.
She lay on the bed, uncaring that she was in a room fit for a queen. Wealth dripped from every surface, including the rug that not only predated her own but cost a million pounds more. But none of the beautiful finery mattered to her as it obviously did to Mikkel.
Her fingers drummed on the cream and pale pink comforter as she stared at her legs that throbbed with each beat of her heart. She had no idea where she was because she’d passed out. Or Mikkel had used his magic. Either way, she’d been unconscious.
Worse than being unable to move was finding out that she couldn’t heal herself. She wanted to blame that on Mikkel because it was easier to believe that he was preventing her from healing than to realize she really couldn’t do it.
It was then that her eyes snapped to her left hand. Her finger rings were gone. Which meant she wasn’t able to leave. She teetered between anger and shock. Those rings were everything to her.
The longer she lay there with her legs broken, the angrier she became. That ire was directed squarely at herself. She’d known better than to mix with Mikkel. It was the power of her magic that had allowed her to believe she could defend against anything he sent her way.
Her conceit, her arrogance were what landed her in this predicament.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
How could she kill a Dragon King if she couldn’t fight against Mikkel? Granted, she’d never gone up against a King, but Mikkel had told her she had the power to do it.
Hell, even Ulrik had said she’d be able to touch dragon magic.
That, however, didn’t mean she could kill one. Why in the world had she believed Mikkel? The only other beings she’d ever fought were Dark Fae. They had been relatively easy to kill, but it was difficult to compare since she’d never been in battle, much less a magical one.
Eilish turned her hands palms up. She felt the magic coursing through her. Based on what other Druids had told her, she knew the more a Druid could feel their magic, the stronger the individual.
So had she let her power go to her head? She feared the answer was a very loud yes.
Ulrik had warned her about her magic. He’d told her to be careful, and she’d ignored him simply because she’d had a few successes and magic came easily to her. Now she was paying a heavy price for such arrogance.
It was no wonder Ulrik hadn’t feared her. She wouldn’t have either in his place. He’d even told her, only a Dragon King can kill another Dragon King.
But Mikkel had been so sure.…
Eilish deduced by the way Mikkel spoke to her that he had truly believed she could kill a Dragon King. Now, he knew the truth.
And there was only one reason he was keeping her now—Ulrik.
Her heart hurt every time she thought of the King of Silvers. How different would things be now if she hadn’t sent Ulrik away? There was a chance he could’ve defeated Mikkel when he arrived and ended whatever the bastard had planned for them both.
With Ulrik, she’d always felt invincible. It was an illusion Mikkel had begun, but it was Ulrik who brought it into focus. Now she knew the ugly truth of things.
She might be someone other Druids feared, and the Fae took seriously, but she had received nothing more than a brief glance from the Dragon Kings. Except she’d messed with the minds of two women who were destined to be their mates.
Which meant that Eilish had royally fucked herself.
The door to her bedroom opened, and Mikkel strode in wearing an Armani suit and a smug expression. How she wished she could scratch his eyes out, rip him bald, or do anything to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face.
“You look a bit peaked, my dear,” he said as he strode to the foot of the four-poster bed. “Are you in pain?”
She didn’t bother to answer. No matter what she said, he’d twist it to his own uses. With assholes like Mikkel, it was better to keep your mouth shut.
“Ah,” he said, pinching his lips together. “I see. I could take away some of the pain.”
Eilish held his gaze, once more refusing to take the bait.
He smiled suddenly. “As you can guess, I’ll need something in exchange. Sadly, I overestimated the depths of your magic, but you’re not a total waste.”
Her stomach knotted because she knew that, somehow, he was going to use her against Ulrik. There was no way she’d willingly participate in such an endeavor.
“Or,” Mikkel said, his voice lowering in a threatening tone. “I can make the pain worse.”
To prove his point, he sent magic to her legs. Eilish squeezed her eyes closed and fisted her hands in the comforter as pain shot up and down her legs, making her stomach roil and causing her to break out in a cold sweat.
In the next second, that pain was removed. She was able to drag in a breath and relax.
“What happens is your decision, Druid,” Mikkel said.
Eilish turned her head away. She liked it when Ulrik called her Druid, but she despised it when Mikkel did it. His tone made the title sound inferior.
While Ulrik’s address made her shiver with excitement and eagerness.
She opened her eyes and looked at Mikkel. If she refused to kill Ulrik, then Mikkel would know that she cared for his nephew. That had the potential to make things so much worse. If she agreed to Mikkel’s proposition, then there
was a chance that she could heal herself as well as somehow warn Ulrik before things got out of hand.
No matter what decision she made, it would no doubt end in her death. She didn’t want to die, but she had agreed to help a maniac. The only way to set things right was to fight Mikkel with everything she had, and that meant she had to be more cunning than he was.
Eilish was terrified of the prospect. She wasn’t sure she was up to the task, but she wouldn’t back down. She couldn’t. Because she wasn’t going to be another person who betrayed Ulrik.
Mikkel leaned his hand on a post at the corner of the bed. “Well?”
“Heal my legs.”
One side of his mouth lifted in a grin. “The only one who has that ability is Constantine. And,” he said, pressing his lips together in mock sorrow. “He isn’t here.”
“Then take away the pain.”
His brows rose as he looked at her expectedly. “Does this mean you agree to help me?”
“Yes.” As if she had any other choice.
“Brilliant.” He straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m done waiting. The dragons will rule this realm once more, and it begins this night.”
He turned on his heel and walked from the bedroom.
“The pain,” she called out.
His reply was to shut the door.
Once he was gone, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her magic. She alone knew the depths of her powers, and she was the only one who had the ability to succeed or fail. So much of the magic had come easily to her, most without even trying. But she was more than willing to work for everything else.
And that meant she needed to go to the source of the Druids’ power—the Ancients.
If only she knew how to contact them. Since she didn’t, she would have to rely on herself until she somehow found a way to the Ancients.
Eilish steadied her breathing, concentrating on how the air moved in and out of her body. All the while, she pushed her magic to her legs and the broken femur bones. She visualized the bones knitting back together stronger than before. The movement of her breaths dulled the pain enough that she could focus on healing herself.
She had no idea how long she hovered in that in-between state of magic and meditation before she heard what sounded like distant drums beating a steady rhythm that matched her breaths.
Soon after, she picked up the sound of chanting. As the drums and voices grew louder, her magic swelled. And then she felt her bones begin the slow process of healing.
“Be careful,” a thousand voices said into her mind.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
There was a brief pause before they said, “You sought us. You know.”
The Ancients? Had she really found them? She could barely contain her joy.
“Keep your wits about you. You’re going to need them for what’s coming.”
Before she could ask another question, the chanting faded away, and the drums soon followed.
Eilish felt bereft without the Ancients now. The brief interaction had been amazing, refreshing. Energizing. It renewed her strength, as well as her resolve.
It was several minutes later that she finally opened her eyes. Her femur bones had mended, and the only residual pain that remained was manageable. At least now, she could use her legs for running, or kicking. Yeah, she’d really like to kick Mikkel right in the balls. Hard.
She remained on the bed without moving so much as a finger. It was imperative that Mikkel believe she was still injured. He hadn’t mentioned his plan to her, but it wasn’t difficult to piece together. He was going to have her lure Ulrik there. That wouldn’t be enough, however. No doubt Mikkel would want her to use magic to weaken Ulrik so Mikkel could strike the killing blow.
“Not gonna happen, wanker,” she mumbled.
She’d lure Ulrik there, all right, but then she’d step back and watch as he annihilated Mikkel. And if Mikkel thought to have anyone or anything there to hinder Ulrik, then Eilish would stop them.
After a long exhale, she welcomed the peace that came. Mikkel would be gone, and Ulrik could.… What? What could he do? Without his uncle as a distraction, Ulrik would get back on course with his revenge.
Some might push him to challenge Con and become the next King of Dragon Kings, but not her. Not only was there the danger that Con could win and kill Ulrik, there was also the fact that if Ulrik won, there would be no place for her. She and all the other Druids would be wiped from the Earth along with every other mortal out there.
Even recognizing that, she wasn’t going to help Mikkel. There was nothing he could say or do that would change her mind.
Her head turned to the window, but the curtains were closed. She didn’t know if it was day or night. Just as she was talking herself out of using her magic to part the drapes a crack, her door opened again.
She looked at the two women in confusion as they walked into the room, followed by Mikkel. Both women had dark hair. The eldest, who appeared to be in her early fifties, kept her locks cut very short. By the gray roots showing, it was time to color her hair again.
The other woman’s hair hung just past her shoulders. And it was the way her hazel gaze watched Eilish with cold detachment that sent a warning through Eilish.
“As I told you,” Mikkel said to the women, though his smile was directed at Eilish.
“She’s the spitting image of Eireen,” the younger woman said.
Eilish slid her gaze to Mikkel. She wanted to demand to know what was going on, but something told her to remain silent for the moment. It was no coincidence that her mother’s name was mentioned.
It was then that she remembered Ulrik’s warning. He’d wanted her to stop looking for her mother. He’d said she was in danger from her family. And Eilish suspected that threat had just found her—with Mikkel’s help, of course.
The eldest turned her head to Mikkel. “You were right.”
“This is going to be fun,” the younger said with a smile.
They walked to either side of the bed. Eilish looked at each of them, unease rippling through her like the hands of death. “Lay one finger on me, and I’ll shred the skin from your body.”
The younger laughed and reached for her arm. Eilish jerked her hand up, sending out a wave of magic that had the woman flying backwards before slamming into the wall and knocking a picture from the hook. The woman crashed onto the floor unconscious a heartbeat later.
For a moment, there was shocked silence. Then Eilish turned to the other woman and sent her into a wall, as well. With both knocked out, she scooted from the bed and stood to face Mikkel.
“Nice try,” he said as if he’d expected such a show.
She bared her teeth as her anger built. The force of her magic always frightened her when she allowed herself to become irate, but this time, she welcomed it, sought it.
Gathered it.
Then she unleashed it on Mikkel.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ulrik stumbled back a step when a shockwave of magic barreled through him. The force of it shook him almost as much as the fact that it was Druid magic.
But what made his heart race was that he recognized it as Eilish’s.
“What the hell was that?” Balladyn demanded as he looked around as if expecting to see someone.
Ulrik rushed out of the cottage, looking for some sign of Eilish nearby. He recognized the tinge of darkness that clouded her magic. But she wasn’t to be found anywhere.
Balladyn came to stand beside him. “That was a ripple of magic that came from some distance away. I’ve only ever known one who caused such a current.”
“Rhi,” Ulrik said, his eyes briefly closing.
“Aye. And this wasn’t Rhi. You know who did this?” Balladyn asked, his gaze narrowed.
Ulrik gave a nod. Without another word, he touched his cuff, teleporting outside the door of Eilish’s flat. He didn’t hesitate to break through her spells and bust inside her place.
He
expected her to come out, yelling at him. But there was only silence. He glanced behind him at the stairs that led down to the pub, but she wasn’t striding up them with anger in her green-gold eyes.
His head swung to her bedroom. Slowly, he made his way to the doorway. Nothing was out of place other than a small crack in the wall near the bed. It shouldn’t be enough to cause him concern, but it did.
He hurried out of the flat, closing the door and using his own spells to keep others out, then he made his way to the pub. Just before he turned from the hidden doorway so that everyone could see him, he hesitated.
When the bartender got close, Ulrik whistled to catch his attention. Then he called Cody over.
“Have you seen Eilish?” Ulrik demanded.
Cody shook his head. “Not since last night when she rushed up the stairs.”
The man returned to his duties, leaving Ulrik trying to think of where Eilish could be. He looked to the door of her flat. There was a chance Mikkel had come for her. The time limit his uncle had given her had run out.
And if Mikkel had her, she could be anywhere.
Ulrik returned to his cottage and yanked open the drawer in his desk for a mobile phone. He called one of Mikkel’s workers who was spying for Ulrik.
“Where is he?” Ulrik asked as soon as the phone was answered.
“I don’t know,” came the reply in a thick cockney accent. “I’ve not heard from him in over a week.”
Ulrik disconnected the call before repeating the same conversation with six others in Mikkel’s employ that he’d convinced to spy for him.
And all had the same answer.
With one push of a button, he sent a message to everyone who worked for him to search their area for any sign of Mikkel. Then, he waited.
But he couldn’t manage an ounce of patience. He tossed the phone onto the desk. Then he braced his hands on the wood and hung his head.
Of all the thousands of people that willingly—and not so willingly—worked for him, he realized that none of them could truly help. None of them had any idea who he was or what war they’d taken sides in. They didn’t know about the Fae or Druids or dragons. The majority didn’t even believe in magic.