Chapter Five
Rion didn’t sleep, but the growing darkness didn’t scare him anymore. He’d encountered enough real monsters that whatever shadows his mind tried to conjure paled in comparison.
He shivered from the brisk spring air but didn’t dare risk a fire. He knew search parties were looking for him. The gods only knew how Alec was reacting to the whole situation.
Thankfully, his magic had finally settled enough that he didn’t leave a trail. In his panic, it had stripped the bark from numerous trees and carved a clear path right to him. At least it had led his pursuers away from Caol.
Once he’d wrestled his emotions into submission, Rion had veered north. It had been hours and the sun had just begun cresting the tree tops.
Now, he sat at the edge of a river, attempting to force a thin piece of thread through the eye of a needle with shaking hands. His arm had gone numb and was so stiff he could barely move it. Rion grimaced when blood trickled from the wound.
Giving up, he reached inside the medicine bag and withdrew a salve to numb the tender skin. A half hour passed as he waited for it to kick in. Birds chirped in the trees overhead and the river moved at a steady pace, calming the still riled parts of his soul.
With a sigh, Rion glanced at the open wound again, grit his teeth, then pushed the needle through. He hissed when it looped through his skin and had to pause. So much for the numbing agent. He’d learned to stitch years ago, but he’d never had to patch a wound this severe. Not himself anyway.
Rion tied the thread off using his teeth, then inserted the needle again. His arm twitched and pain flared through his shoulder anew. Rion cursed, slammed his back against the nearest tree trunk, and took to observing the morning sky. Angry tears fought for escape, but Rion bit them back.
He’d killed three Fae warriors from Brónach, but that wasn’t what bothered him. It was the others who’d died for absolutely no reason at all. It was the unprovoked anger and fear directed his way from a childhood friend. It was the insanity of the entire situation.
What the hell had those males wanted? They couldn’t have been part of the royal guard. If they were, Liam and his friends never would have been targeted.
His body trembled and the magic Rion so desperately wanted to control sprang to life again. He glanced at it. Maybe the ancient texts were right after all. Maybe he was cursed. Maybe his existence drove Fae to the brink of insanity just from the mere sight of him. He didn’t bother trying to rationalize Saoirse or Caol.
Rion looked at the wound on his arm again, then continued the agonizing task of closing it. He’d have to stitch the cut across his other arm, too. He sighed and worked on his body as the sun made its way across the brightening sky.