Last Ride of the Umbra Fae

12. Ryder

12

Ryder

T he rain came pouring down in thick sheets, as if the Vale itself had opened up to wash away my sins. All in good nature though. I didn’t blame the gods if they were really up there. I was going against everything that was ever spoken among the fae. Long ago, they had all been united—fae of fire, water, umbra, earth, and wind; the elements that unified these lands—until that peace had been stripped away. With the Eternal stone of longevity in the hands of humans, this entire planet was on the brink of destruction. Every day, I wished I could pull off a big enough heist to allow me to slip out and spend the rest of my days on a piece of land where none of this shit mattered. Being a killer would always be a darkness tainting the very blood in my veins.

I would get my prize eventually. Throwing out little things like tonic were the breadcrumbs that would lead Vessa to her fate and earn me enough nara coins to get the fuck off this continent. All her answers were held in The City of Donia, a sanctuary and a thriving city up north. With three days until Journey’s Cliff and another short travel until we reached our destination, I had plenty of time to peel apart every layer that made Vessa who she was. By the time I placed her in Fang’s path, we would know why her people had gone through such great lengths to keep her hidden.

As she began to unknowingly show me little pieces of herself, I was starting to see it. The power, the darkness coiling. Something inside her was rising. I didn’t know if it was driven by grief, but I saw it every time she looked my way. She was dangerous and fragile at the same time. I wanted to break her and leave her undone, but I couldn’t do it until we fit together all the missing pieces of the puzzle.

We rode hard through the rain for the next hour, stopping beneath the foot of a mountain next to a flowing stream where she finally washed the caked-on blood off her body. We gave her the privacy she needed to change into a fresh pair of clothes.

As she strode back toward her dark mare, the tight, little, buttoned-up top that highlighted the swells of her perfect breasts had her moon tattoo on full display. A deep shade of crimson that complemented her soft bronze skin and a dark, leather, corset-looking thing buckled across her torso at the same short height of that thin top I’d love to unbutton. A holster carrying her weapons was strapped to her side. Her beautiful onyx hands dripped with a power most men wished they could possess. She had it all. The way her tight leather pants fit like a glove made my cock twitch. Thank the gods I could hide it beneath my coat from where I stood. I leaned up against a tree to partially shelter from the drops of rain, now faint, but an annoyance nonetheless.

The burns spanned the entire length of her right arm, from above the wrists of her magic-honed hands to the curve of her shoulder. She flicked a daggered stare my way, brows furrowed with a look that said, “Fuck you to every realm of hell,” as she continued to search through her bags.

“Are you always such a nosy prick?” The sound of Raven’s voice was jarring.

Gritting my teeth, I turned to find him sitting upon a massive rock on the other side of the giant oak tree, and noticed a few random palm trees beyond that. This part of the Miera Desert was a fuckery of confusion. Like Mother Nature had been indecisive and had just thrown out a bunch of random seeds to see what the hell would grow. Seeing Raven crouched on the top of that boulder in his fae form elicited a deep chuckle from me. The asshole resembled a bird perching.

“Raven, isn’t it?” I felt like fucking with him.

His eyes darkened. “That is my given name,” he replied with a steel expression.

How original.

“Cute name for a pet,” I smoothly responded, hands clasped in front of myself as I kept my eyes on Vessa. Her head dipped back, exposing the column of her neck and that soft, tender flesh below her ear, massaging herself as she squeezed her right shoulder.

“Says the cowboy whose name was carved into existence.”

A shudder went down my spine that had me moving for his throat. I closed the space in pure ferocity before I realized what I was doing, gripping him by the neck, squeezing every muscle I could grasp. He laughed as best he could within my grip.

“Tell me what you mean, little bird, before I decide to end your life.” The scars on my body bore the very reason I got this name.

He smiled maliciously, as if a tendril of his power had latched on to something I’d never spoken of. What sort of fae was this feathered fuck anyway? I knew my damn history thanks to too much time hiding in libraries in The City of Donia when I’d had nowhere else to go.

Stabbing, sharp pain seared into the side of my abdomen. A blade ripped through my shirt and nicked the skin above my rib as a palm pressed against the opposite side. I looked down to see Vessa’s soft, delicate hand on one side and a dagger in the other. Her touch was intoxicating, sending such a euphoric wave rushing through my body that I didn’t care if she was dangerous.

“Are you teasing my bird?” she hissed, eyes glaring, perfect teeth bared, sending me into a sudden calm.

I let go. She released me from her grip while brushing her palm against the scar that formed the letter “R.”

My eyes bored into hers. “No, we were just having a little chat,” is all I said before I left to get my stallion ready for riding. As I walked away, I felt their glares searing into my back, but hers lingered far longer, sending that darkness swirling inside me into a frenzy, which spoke of the monster I truly was. No matter how many times I was beaten and bruised, I would always be one. I grinned beneath my hat as my horse veered. For the rest of the evening, not another word was spoken.

There wasn’t much said over the next two days of travel either, just leering eyes, the mistrust palpable every time we turned our backs. It was three against one and us four against whatever the devil spurred from this desolate desert.

There were more bandits on our path in the distance. None of them were from Fang’s gang, just a bunch of starved men banding together in the middle of nothing and nowhere.

There was a darkness that followed the Umbra; they were the shadows looming over everyone’s existence. If these prowling bandits knew what they were capable of, they would off themselves in fear of ever accidentally crossing paths with them. Even the coyotes stopped their howling as we passed. It only took one to send out its cry as the rest vanished. Maybe that was why we hadn’t run into what lurked within the stories of these lands. Humans and fae be damned to ever step into the Umbra Faes’ path. And somehow, I found excitement every time one particular little fae stole a glance or two or three my way. Her eyes sometimes said more than a “go to hell.”

On nights when Vessa had been moments from drifting to sleep, her eyes lowered in a hooded gaze. I often wondered what she thought about before she closed them, if any of those floating thoughts were of me—thoughts that didn’t involve holding a dagger to my throat or fantasizing about how she’d like End’s Wrath to separate my flesh into piles of muscle and bone. Or did she have deep-rooted, lust-filled feelings for Raven, being as they had spent the entirety of their lives together?

I’d tried not to use the power of Nai to peek at their bond. It felt like an invasion, almost like peering through a window, watching a couple fucking on a bed, getting off on how hard the male would make his lover come. Being desperate enough to furiously jerk off to the sounds of her orgasm because, deep down, you’re just angry it couldn’t be you. But the one time I’d been stupid enough to give in, taking a glimpse at their bond, it was like watching a one-sided knife fight. It gave me satisfaction knowing she would be the one to hold the blade.

None of that mattered because Raven roamed her orbit nonetheless, like a lost pet, especially at night. But I’d watch him disappear once she fell asleep, doing whatever the hell it was birds do when the moon crept high. Raven always came back to her, as if he felt every breath she took as his own, knowing when her body was unsettled or restless. He would perch on her hip until her soft, faint breaths were a feathered sigh and she settled back into a deep sleep. Over the past few nights, he was always there the moment she opened her eyes to the break of day.

It was maddening to think of being that tied to someone. I would be more like Vessa and hold the noose by its end, knotting it so tight so nothing else would seep through. What they had wasn’t love; it was a choice taken from them by End’s Wrath.

I saw what her father’s silence did to her, the days when his thoughts were too heavy for conversation. He was here but he wasn’t—breathing but dreaming about something beyond what was right in front of him. I’d observed enough to know it bothered her. She only had Raven to talk to.

Still, she cared for the bastard bird.

Deeply.

From beneath the brim of my hat, I surveyed how they weaved around their bond as crackling fire filled the space.

I turned over some details.

End’s Wrath’s biggest weakness was in front of me, on full display.

I needed to work harder to pull Vessa out of her comfortable orbit and lull her into mine.

Luckily, by tomorrow night, we would arrive at Journey’s Cliff. And I had a feeling by the time we walked out of that cave, she would be circling me. I knew exactly how to do it.