by Elle Lincoln
My head feels torn. “I do...” I hedge, feeling suddenly protective of Kelsie.
“I suggest you get the witch to break the enchantment.” He throws the stone back to me and somehow my butterfingers manage to catch the stone.
“It’s going to have to wait.” Decision made, I continue, “There’s no telling whether or not they have more. Even if we detour and break the enchantment, as you say, what happens if we encounter another trap? Binding all of them.” I hand the stone back to Patrick. “Hide it again.”
I swallow the longing building in my throat and turn to Killian. I don’t need to say anything because there is only one thing left to do.
Hunt.
I turn to Patrick. “Keep up.” The small glimmer of my usual playfulness seeps through to tease him. Looks like he isn’t going to get his night alone with me.
Patrick’s eyes light up with excitement as his hand swipes through the air to snatch an ax. “Not a problem.” His accent deepens and his knuckles whiten as he grips the ax handle tighter.
I dissolve, watching as Killian morphs into a tawny wolf with streaks of black and white. He unleashes one long howl that’s followed by several of his pack, and then they move, their bodies merging into the forest with natural execution. Branches hardly snap and brush stills, except in their wake.
My own body drifts after them, following silently. I push the Sluagh back, keeping them at bay. Unsure if unleashing them is the smart thing to do. It makes me feel restricted, my power stunted. Without the full reign, I know I may lose. But it’s a risk I have to take. It cannot just be let go.
Once again I find myself blanking my mind, letting everything drip away, until one singular purpose invades my mine. Hunt. Although this time I’m hunting for what is mine. These men, who quickly invaded my, life breaking down my walls I so heavily built over the years.
I haven’t even stopped to question the budding relationships, but there is no way in this world or the next I’m ever going to give them up.
The wolves begin to slow, some pace off to the side as the rest catch up. The stillness of the air smells stale and is bruised with ozone. I look around realizing I don’t even know where I am. But none of that matters, because sitting directly in front of me is a tear into the Realm.
Jagged edges split the night into ethereal lightened hues of white bordering on purple. Without waiting, I let gravity weigh me down and I step through the tear and into the Realm once more.
My body feels yanked and I spin as the world rips and spits me out on the other side. The journey is rougher this time, harder, a reflection of my true feelings.
Rain pelts my nose and my cheeks as I move away, and allow my surroundings to sink into me. The whoosh of more bodies stepping through accompanies me. The sky is lit in that twilight I became so familiar with in the pocket between these worlds. Which makes me worry that everything has already begun.
A process I haven’t even figured out how to reverse.
The forest is different this time. The trees are not as big as the others that litter the dense, forest path. Their trunks are black with rot and sink into themselves. My head jerks up as one falls, plummeting down into the damp dirt. A sigh leaves my lips as I struggle to imagine this world in its prime.
“It’s dying.” Patrick’s voice is deep with contempt. For those who litter this world or the next, I don’t know.
I reach out for those linked to me, their breath of life strong here. “I can feel them.”
“Bette, wait.” Patrick grabs my arm and I allow him to. I keep forgetting I can just dissolve and he would have no hold on me, but it’s the respect I feel in our new relationship that keeps me here and not in the mist. “Don’t run off.”
I smile because I cannot promise him anything. His lips form into a thin line and his displeasure is evident. “I’ll stay with you.” As long as he’s close it doesn’t mean I’m really running off if I’m still in sight. Right? My truth may not be genuine, but desperate times and all that shit.
He probably already knows what I’m really thinking anyway, so there’s no point in voicing it. Catch twenty-two.
I turn away as the wolves sniff the ground, their hackles raised and tails swishing. The large, tawny one I’ve come to know as Killian gives a huff before taking off. I dissolve and follow, with Patrick quiet but hot on my heels.
I don’t stop to sightsee. I don’t take in the sounds or the smells of this ancient world untouched by human decay. No, the Fae hold their own stench of decay that’s rotten upon the bark and roots of the surrounding trees. Trees that crash as we pass. Their leaves are decayed with brown and black. Mold is but a canvas upon the area where the ashes of the trees latch.
I dismiss it all, concentrating on the link that pull me toward them. We come upon a pond where strange looking beings sit on the shore, their feet dangling in the murky waters below. Every now and then bubbles rise, and I swear I see a head pop up. But then we are past them, standing behind a large tree with white bark, still alive and thrumming with the energy that bleeds into it from below.
In front of us stands a large, stone wall that wraps around a castle I see in the distance. Guards stand at the entrance but don’t pay any attention to us. Their eyes are drawn back toward voices raised in the distance. They echo off the walls and indistinguishable words reach my ears, but the emotion behind it gives me pause. Bloodthirsty Fae are itching for the red liquid to splatter the grounds.
My pulse spikes, even in this form, and I turn to Patrick. He shakes his head. His arm reaching behind him as his ax disappears and a bow settles in his hand. He draws two arrows, nocking them with precision. I watch as his muscles bunch and he pulls back. The air gasps as they fly toward their target before hitting home without thought, without mercy.
Before I move, I glance all around, wondering why there aren’t more guards. I fear they are waiting for our arrival. I allow gravity to reach me once more and my footsteps fall onto dewy grass and purple dandelion-like weeds.
We stalk forward, not even bothering to hide our presence, past the gate and into a roaring crowd. There must be hundreds upon hundreds of Fae here, their skin pearlescent, and their bodies tall and poised. Humans also dot the courtyard, small and clumsy looking in comparison to the Fae. How are they still alive? But they, too, scream. Their energy pulses in time with my heart. No matter why they roar, the energy is contagious, even without my consent, because deep inside my gut I know exactly why they are screaming.
Prince Ryoden stands upon an old world stage, his body glistens, and the white cotton he wears shows no signs of the rainfall. His handsome face smiles into the crowd. I look back, hoping he didn’t see us. The wolves aren’t there, no doubt waiting just outside. Wolves in here would be a dead giveaway. Patrick’s bow is gone, but his body is tense and vibrating with unleashed fury.
Then, Ryoden’s sweet fucking melodic voice coats the area in a soothing blanket that I’m desperate to shake off. He pushes his palms down in a gesture to calm the crowd. But the smile on his face is sinister.
“Welcome! Welcome! It seems our goal of survival is trying to be thwarted!” He throws his hands up and the crowd boos. “I know! But we have finally captured those involved!”
Patrick grabs my arm, pulling me into the crook of his body. My vision dims and I see red. I want nothing more than to go up there, rip his fucking head off, and watch his blood stain that stupid outfit.
“Not only that, but they have been feeding your future queen lies!” No. Kelsie. Oh god no. I stand on tiptoe but I don’t see her.
She isn’t here. Patrick soothes and I flop back to my feet.
Small miracles.
“Their blood will sustain the Realm for years to come!” The crowd roars, their vision blinded and their emotions high. I have to hand it to him, he really knows how to work a crowd. Even if the words he speaks sends my pulse racing. “Bring them out!”
Ryoden walks across the raised stage while men wearing black armor brin
g out four masked men. My palms sweat, drawing all the fluid from my mouth. My body shakes and everything in me runs cold.
Calm.
He’s fucking insane if he thinks I can calm down right now. Nothing in this world could have ever prepared me for the moment playing out before me like a fucking horror movie.
Why don’t they escape? I can’t hold back the thought because I don’t understand. Their arms are restrained behind them and only one soldier holds them. There isn’t anything in this world that could possibly hold them like this. Not unless they came up with some strange cuff to bind their strength. Their powers.
The realization dawns on me and I can’t help but feel foolish. There is no other explanation. I take a step forward, but Patrick’s grip is almost painful. His scent deepens as he holds me close, and the scruff on his face brushes along my temple as we both watch in rapt awe and horror.
“How shall we feed them to the heart of the land?” Ryoden pauses, tapping his chin as though he’s seriously deep in thought. He isn’t with that gleam in his eye. “Shall we hang them by their feet and slit their throats?” He has to pause to allow the crown to settle. “Or by their necks, as we slice through their calves?’
Tears burn my eyes and my heart gallops in my chest. Ropes begin to lower from a frame above the stage. This can’t be happening. Not here. Not now.
“Who shall we sacrifice first? The tyrant king? The God of the Sea? The King of the Hunt? Or, perhaps, the lone wolf?”
My muscles clench and I can barely restrain myself. I look back at Patrick with apology on my face. “Forgive me,” I whisper, before I yell back to Ryoden while my eyes never once leaving Patrick’s. “Let us negotiate!”
Chapter 18
Bette
A Life for a Life
A hush falls over the crowd. Patrick’s eyes widen in horror and grief, somehow I push him away from me while whispering, “Go.”
He shakes his head, but if he doesn’t leave now, it will be too late for the both of us.
Go. Hide. Find us.
My words trickle through him with grief and mourning of what could have been. What was and what may never come to be. Tears slide down those freckled cheeks and he steps back, allowing the crown to pull him in, shielding him from view.
I turn back to Ryoden, the crowd having parted, creating a path to the stage for me. The guys haven’t yet heard my voice, and as I test our link I find while I can see them it isn’t strong...
It isn’t them at all. Oh god, what have I done?
“Oh, look at my little kitten.” Ryoden sits on the stage, his smile all teeth with a small dimple piercing his chin.
My eyes are wide, my heart hammering. I test that link again and it pulls right through the hooded men and down behind the stage. I curse myself for once again walking into a trap that I have no doubt Patrick was fully aware of. Yet, if he were, he would have told me. Or so I hoped.
“A life for a life then?” He hops down and the crowd is in awe as he blesses them with his five-foot radius.
I roll my eyes and face him. Nothing left to do than face the path I set before myself.
“Where are they?” I widen my feet, roll my shoulders back, and lift my chin. Like fucking hell I’m going to let him get the best of me.
“Safe.” He nears me, his height dwarfing mine, his body lean. But he isn’t mine, not one of my men. I close myself off to the grief.
“Negotiate. Let them free, show me, and I’ll go with you willingly.”
“How foolish, kitten.” He clasps his arms behind him, and I can feel his power reaching out to mine. Engulfing me in its suffocating cloud. “You assume I want you.”
I can’t allow his words to affect me, even though they do. I was so sure. “Tell me, prince…” I hold myself back from spitting the word. “How much is a secret worth to you?”
“I believe I have a raven for my secrets.” Not if I can help it.
“And do you believe his worth is more than mine?” I soften my voice, tempting him to play the game.
A game I sorely need to fucking win. I hope Patrick is on his way to find the guys.
“You cannot die. You are worthless.”
I can’t help but smile, my lips tilting up in a sneer. My raven once told me the same thing. He was wrong, so very fucking wrong.
“No. Perhaps I can’t. Yet.” I pause, swallowing bile as I step into him. “But you will want to trade my life for theirs.”
“Tell me, what is it you hold so dear?” His voice drops, his eyes glinting.
“Blood secrets.” I know better than to give him Kelsie’s name, but I’m hoping that just that alone will entice him. The promise of his daughter, even if I never intend to fulfill that promise.
I never will. But he doesn’t know that. I can lie. He cannot.
My words do as anticipated. He licks his lips and his eyes darken. He gives the slightest of nods. “Bring them out,” he calls over his shoulder. “Submit to me.”
Never.
I hold that last bit of defiance. I hold it for dear life, because I don’t want to lose them. What if I submit? I have no fucking idea what he’s capable of. I’m basing everything I know off of minuscule amounts of gathered information. I haven’t lived centuries to make an educated decision. Instead, I have to decide here and now.
“Free them.” I damn near choke on my own voice.
He snaps his fingers and the squeal of an old metal door creaks through the crowd. I finally look away from Ryoden to see the guys, who walk from the castle.
My eyes meet Mac’s first. Shock then complete disbelief crosses them. I hear Balor next. His roar slips through the night. I feel Casseus, and the hold he has on me nearly strangles me with mourning. And Logan. His anger surges from him in great waves, his latent power a tangible entity as it engulfs me.
Maybe I’m a coward, but I close my eyes and turn away. My soul feels fractured. The bonds we created are cracking like glass, shattering into millions of pieces. Pieces that can never be put back together again.
“Get them out of here!” Ryoden’s sour breath wafts past me. My stomach heaves and I hold it down, refusing to buckle before him, even if everything inside of me is suffering. I clench my fists and my nails dig into the flesh, biting my palms and drawing blood.
I block out their pleas, their cries. I dig down deep and shut them off from me. It’s with no uncertain reality that in that moment, I become deeply aware of how much they mean to me.
I once thought my life was well lived. That my games and secrets could sustain me for eternity. But that was before I understood eternity. Before I met them. Before Casseus chose that bar at the right time. Then led me to the Sluagh, Balor, Mac, Patrick, and Logan. In them, I could see eternity where we live and learn each other. Fighting and holding on for everything we have.
Fingers caress my cheek and I pull back. Ryoden is there, hovering over me an odd look on his face.
“They are gone. Come.” He turns on his heels with the expectation for me to follow. Boos from the crowd pelt me, their words meaningless in the face of the vast chasm I feel at the loss of the guys.
No guards come to take me away, cuff me, or keep me prisoner. My footsteps follow Ryoden, who is a white blip in the crowd. Easy to see, easy to find.
I push every fucking emotion down until my body is numb and my head is clear. Although the ache in my muscles tells a different story, I still follow, my feet heavy and unsure.
Ahead, Ryoden holds a door open for me and he ushers me inside. As I walk past, a shimmer falls over my skin and gravity weighs me down even further. My steps become heavier until I can do nothing but lean on the wall.
“What was that?” My words sound slurred, distant to my ears.
“Give it a moment.” He jerks his arms out and rolls his cuffs.
My head falls back against the stone wall. My body is dizzy and my limbs are struggling to support me. My knees give out and I slide down the wall, my hands hitting the gritty floor.
Ryoden hums and crouches before me. I feel drugged. Slow. “Seems you were much stronger than even you realized. The first time is always the hardest.” He holds up his hand and one long, elegant finger lifts while the other stay fisted. With his other, he taps the ring on his hand. “This allows me to keep my magic.”
That’s what I’m feeling? The loss of my magic? No wonder I couldn’t hear the guys.
“I want you to remember this moment right here. This helpless feeling as you sit on the floor with drool spilling from your mouth.” He reaches out and I try hard to jerk away but I can’t. His hand touches me. A whimper escapes my mouth. I’ve never, in my entire life, felt so vulnerable. “You are worthless. Get up.”
I can’t. I physically cannot. Ryoden stands before me and my head slams back against the stone wall, with bits cutting into my skull.
“Get up.” He spits on me. Saliva splashes on my cheek, where it runs down to my chin and drips onto my shirt.
Without warning his leg kicks out, his foot slamming into my stomach. The air leaves me and I fall to my side. I try to pull my body in on itself, but my muscles don’t want to work. Everything is too fucking heavy. I can’t avoid the next kick as his shoe connects with my forehead. My head snaps back into the wall. My vision dims and my body convulses.
I should have prepared myself for this.
He reaches down and with a strange opposition, he touches me with care. Lifting me into his arms to cradle me close. I cough and wheeze into his chest as his hand runs circles across my shoulder.
“I don’t know why you made me do that.”
I literally didn’t do anything except exist.
“You don’t know what we risk.” He begins to walk down the hall, his arms sure. “The Realm is dying.”
I try to reply but my I know it comes out as a groan.
“You’ve seen it then.” He sighs, his chest rising into my own. “It cannot be helped. I’m sure you see us as vile and inhumane.” He stops and looks down at me. “All true.”
I snort.