Chapter Twenty-One
The next few days passed in a blur. They scouted the palace and even got an inside tour, courtesy of Selina batting her eyelashes at guard. The male was more than displeased to learn that Rion would be joining them. She didn’t reveal Rion’s identity and the guard clearly didn’t recognize him.
During the tour, Selina took the guard’s arm, much to the male’s delight, and inquired about the statues and art. The male was proud to detail every story. It gave Rion time to scout their surroundings.
He marked the exits, the stairs, and other guards wandering past, shaking their heads at the one who’d allowed them in. He’d likely be losing his position once the higher-ups caught wind of it.
Selina paused at each statue of the seven gods and bowed. Rion hardly looked at them. They’d done nothing for him in his short life, aside from maybe spare it.
Once finished, the male eyed Rion before asking Selina to dinner. She enthusiastically agreed with a nod of her head and the male puffed out his chest. He didn’t seem to notice that she’d never verbally agreed. Rion almost felt sorry for him. He’d be sitting at a table alone, waiting for a stranger who would never arrive.
The pair went shopping next and wandered the marketplace, weaving between stalls and venturing into store fronts. Some recognized Rion and cowered, while others offered to dress him in an assortment of finery. He always gave the same answer: They had to impress Selina first.
The female knew her fabrics. Knew her jewels, too. It made Rion wonder if her father and uncle had been merchants at some point in their lives.
Selina purchased food from stalls in passing, and Rion balanced a few of her boxes with one arm.
Some items were scheduled to be delivered later that afternoon. Selina joked and laughed and Rion found himself envious of the way she interacted with the vendors. She acted as though the day at the restaurant had never happened. As if the people who surrounded them weren’t all a threat. He wished he could afford the luxury of relaxation.
But maybe he could. Rion’s mind drifted back to the tiny village off the beaten path. A place where no one recognized a Lord because they’d never seen one.
But could a female like Selina tolerate the solitude? If they became more. If she accepted his invitation for a date. A real date where they wouldn’t be fighting for their lives—Rion shook the thoughts from his mind. He could think about those things later.
The day of the ball arrived and hours before the festivities were to begin, Selina kicked him out of their room. She claimed she needed privacy and absolute quiet in order to get ready. To say he was speechless and a bit annoyed was an understatement.
Selina had told him to return just before six, then slammed the door in his face.
Thank the gods he’d already showered.
They’d discussed their plans over the last few days. Per Selina’s request, they’d arrive late. Not to draw attention, but to avoid the long-winded Fae and their speeches. She claimed if she couldn’t eat, there was no point in listening to speeches.
Rion scouted the perimeter again, marking all the exits they’d seen in the blueprints. He stopped for a cool drink, paying extra attention to the one who served him, then started back.
The innkeeper avoided his stare when Rion entered. He climbed the stairs that led to their room and paused to listen at the door. Her heartbeat was steady and Selina was humming to herself. Rion might have been content to listen to it were it not for the fact that she’d likely heard him come up the stairs. He knocked once and waited.
“Come in.”
Rion twisted the knob and paused on the threshold. His lips parted as he took in the dramatically changed female before him.
Selina stood beside the bed, bag already in hand as if she were ready to walk out the door.
She’d pulled the bulk of her hair back, using glittering floral pins full of diamonds that caught and reflected the light. It drew his gaze to the softly curled strands framing her face. She’d outlined her eyes with kohl again and painted her lips a deep, sensual red.
His gaze traveled lower. Just like her other dress, this one had a slit up one side, revealing her beautiful tanned leg and the silver heels buckled around her ankles. The top, sleeveless and alluring, dipped in a V between her breasts, showing off more skin than he’d ever seen on the female.
Gods above, he wouldn’t survive the night.
Rion swallowed hard. Tried and failed to clear his throat. Selina offered a shy smile. Shy, despite the piece of art hugging her body. She spun for him and the ruffles at the bottom of the dress moved as if they were an extension of her body. “Do you like it?”
Like it? He wasn’t sure “like” was a strong enough word for the things he felt. He liked her. Liked the way her eyes sparked with excitement. Liked the way she sought his approval. The way she seemed to crave it.
A slim set of silver earrings dangled from her pointed ears and a silver chain dipped toward the space between her breasts, holding a teardrop pendant at the end.
Rion cleared his throat again.
She frowned. “Too much?”
“No, no,” Rion forced himself to look away.
He saw her smirk from the corner of his eye. “Well, if I have that effect on you , I imagine it’ll be fabulously distracting for others. With any luck, they won’t even see you coming.”
Rion struggled to form a single coherent thought. The mission, the mission, the mission . “And how do you plan on sneaking around in something like that?” She’d probably skin someone alive if they got a speck of dirt on it.
“I don’t. I’m the distraction. You’ll be the one sneaking.”
“Can you—” Get it together. “Can you move in that?”
She snickered. “Why do you think I always opt for a dress with a slit up the side? It makes running easier. Along with reaching in to snag a blade if I need it.”
Rion slammed down any thoughts about reaching into her dress.
Selina stepped back and gestured toward the bed. “I laid your things out. Try not to wrinkle them. I’d like to appear like a nice normal couple not up to anything at all.”
He scoffed, then eyed the pressed suit. The smooth black fabric. She’d gone out of her way to ensure they had the best.
Rion eyed her dress again. Saw the low back as she turned to rearrange his belongings. He’d be touching her tonight. Talking with her as they’d done in the restaurant. His mind drifted back to Fernsworth and how he’d acted there. That primal part of him was singing now, tainting his blood with power and instinct.
Control . He needed to maintain control, otherwise he’d look like an ass again and she might not forgive him twice. Her dress shifted, revealing the muscles along her thigh. Maybe he’d outright damn the mission and take her up to one of the private rooms, just to ensure they weren’t interrupted this time. Maybe he’d get to see exactly how far she’d allow him to push. Tease her into—
“Come back to earth, Rion.”
His name on those painted lips—
“Right. I’ll get ready then.”
She made a sound of approval and he watched her retreat to the bathroom, claiming she needed to do something else with her hair. She was perfect. A fine wine that had him drunk just from sight alone. Never mind that she smelled divine as well. What the hell was she wearing?
Rion shook his head, but it did nothing to disperse the images flashing through his mind as he stripped of his casual attire and changed into the formal one.
The suit fit snuggly against his chest, yet still afforded him enough room to move should he need to. And he would by the time the night was over.
She waited a full fifteen minutes before inquiring whether he was decent. Not that he would have minded otherwise.
She exited and her assessing gaze roamed over his form. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Even nicer than last time.”
Rion eyed her dress. “What’s the plan when we start running?”
“Lose the shoes, tear the dress if need be.”
He raised a brow. “I thought you’d be opposed to such things.”
“In normal circumstances, it would be an absolute crime, but considering the fate of Brónach hangs in the balance, it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. I’ll just have the tailor fashion me a new one.”
“Are you ready then?” he asked.
She nodded. “Let’s go tear down a rising revolution.”
They exited the inn, biding a blushing innkeeper farewell, and wound their way through the gathered crowd.
The solstice was still a week out, but the Fae had already been celebrating for days. The streets were filled with streamers, flower petals, and discarded waste that the slaves picked up throughout the night.
Everyone wore their finest clothes, but even so, Selina stood out like a rose in the desert. She walked with an elegant stride, her chin high, and eyes alight.
Her heels clicked against the cobblestone path and Rion had to restrain himself from growling at males who stared a little too long. Females, too.
He wrapped one arm around her waist and Selina eyed him before a sly smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She whispered something about insufferably possessive males.
The guards standing before the palace gate, both immaculately dressed, their weapons glimmering with the jewels encrusted in the pommels, smiled at Selina as they strolled past.
They didn’t even look at him.
Rion surveyed the female at his side. She’d promised to be a distraction. And she’d perfected it. Even those who did recognize him didn’t linger, their gazes snapping to the beautiful female marching across the marble floor.
No one knew she was part of a two Fae team that planned to tear this entire place apart. Or, at least, the illegal part, which they both guessed was the vast majority of those in charge.
Selina grabbed the first drink presented to her by a well-dressed slave and downed the contents, loudly smacking her lips afterward. Rion gave her a disapproving stare, but she only smiled.
She eyed the food table near the side wall next, but he held her elbow, preventing her from sprinting straight for it. They’d lived off stall food since his poisoning. She’d complained endlessly.
Inside was just as decorated as the outside, with what appeared to be an indoor garden in the middle of the dance floor. A skylight allowed natural sunlight in during the day, but with night coming, Rion was sure the stars would be visible in the cloudless sky above.
Males and females already spun their partners on the dance floor, swaying in time to the music. It looked like they’d missed the speeches, just as Selina had hoped.
The lights were dim and he kept his magic hidden. Other Fae were gathered in small groups beside pillars or at the edge of the dance floor, watching others with heated gazes that promised an even livelier after party.
Rion was silently grateful they wouldn’t be involved.
He searched for Foley in the sea of faces, along with the companions Rion had seen the male with for the last several days. He’d spent his time tailing the officials, seeing who Foley worked with. But despite his research, Rion hadn’t been able to pinpoint exactly how they were smuggling the poison out.
Rion recognized a few faces and wondered if Foley and the rest were having their own party in a secluded room. Rion shuddered and prayed it wouldn’t interfere with their plans.
He eyed the stone faced guards. None were drinking. None took their eyes off the guests twirling around the floor.
Several guards patrolled along the upper balconies and guarded the stairs as well as the side entrances.
No one, least of all him, was sneaking anywhere near the upper levels.
It was a good thing then, that his target lay beneath their feet.
Rion casually took his time strolling through the palace with Selina on his arm. Many greeted her with smiles and compliments, leaving him the chance to look at the new construction that hid the door to the basement.
No guards there.
No door either.
But he’d noticed that little fact during Selina’s guided tour. He’d also noticed the slight crease in the wall and the ever so slight color change that indicated a sliding door.
No one would look twice at a servant disappearing through the walls. Old passageways were dusty and full of cobwebs, mice, and other foul things the wealthy wanted nothing to do with.
It was a perfect hiding place.
Rion finally relented and let Selina tug him toward the food table. She ate surprisingly light as he watched the slaves and servants come and go. Rion marked those of a similar build. Memorized how they did their rounds.
The guests grew louder, more boisterous and uncaring. Some had started to sway on their feet, drunk from the music and the wine. It was almost time. He’d corner one of the half-breeds in the bathroom and steal his clothes, then take their place among the staff.
Selina huffed and he turned to find her staring. “What?”
“Aren’t you going to ask me to dance?”
He didn’t have to feign surprise. He hadn’t actually expected her to want to dance with him. She had plenty of others to choose from. Rion eyed the exposed skin along her back and arms. His jaw clenched. Others who’d be touching the skin he wanted to touch.
Rion adjusted his jacket, suddenly overheated. “I’m afraid I was never educated on the steps.”
Selina stared at him and upon realizing he was entirely serious, gaped. “Are you truly telling me you don’t know how to dance?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re a High Lord’s son.”
“Who is hated by pretty much every being on the continent.”
“But you had school.”
“Only for a few years. Then I was homeschooled.”
“And your sister never taught you?”
“She didn’t have time and I never asked. It wasn’t exactly high on the priority list.” He had survival to think about. And Caol—well he couldn’t imagine Caol teaching him, either.
“Well, that certainly ruins my plan for the evening.”
“I’m sure there are others you can dance with.”
He expected a sharp retort. It didn’t come. She turned away, color staining her cheeks. “Maybe I wanted to dance with you.”
His heart skipped and he tried to catch her eye, but she refused to meet his gaze.
The moment was both a heartbeat and a lifetime.
Selina swept her hands over the front of her dress and composed herself. “I’ll see you after the . . . events?” she hedged.
He too turned away, afraid if he didn’t now, then he might damn the mission and see if he could try to mimic the steps of those gliding across the floor. But he wasn’t a fool. He knew dancing was like art, it took time to learn. Focus. Dedication.
He inwardly sighed. “You’ll know. Keep an eye out.”
“Right.” Another moment’s hesitation, then she was gone, walking through the crowd, swaying her hips and smiling at any who offered her an inkling of attention.
It took less than a minute before a male approached, the lapels of his jacket in perfect order as he gently lifted the back of her hand and pressed it to his lips.
She giggled and Rion forced himself to turn away before instincts drove him to do something stupid.
She’d wanted to dance with him. Him. He’d learn, he decided. As soon as they were back in Nàdair, he’d pull Saoirse aside and demand she teach him. Or head to the studio and demand lessons from the teachers.
Rion prowled through the crowd, watching the servant he’d selected as his target. Rion waited, following him at a distance until the male finally darted for the bathroom. Rion knew it wouldn’t take him long, not with how he’d been sneaking drinks at every turn.
Only a servant would dare. Their punishment would be little more than a sharp reprimand or possibly losing their job. If a slave tried such a thing . . . well, he’d seen them killed for far less.
The male barely registered Rion’s raised hand as he struck the side of his neck. The male went limp and Rion caught his falling form, preventing his head from hitting the tiled floor.
He stripped the servant of his clothes, stuffed him inside the utility closet, and left his own neatly folded suit on the male’s lap.
Rion grimaced at the material he was forced to wear. It was too hot and he’d always hated wearing white. It stained too easily, but the servants were meant to be easily seen, thus the color choice. Rion grabbed the empty serving tray from the floor and slipped out of the bathroom.
He slowed his pace and kept his head down. Guests filled his tray with their empty flutes of wine and glasses of whisky. Some barked a command for more and Rion quietly inclined his head.
The clock had started. Anytime now, the servant he’d left in the closet could be found, then questions would arise and the entire palace would go on full alert. He didn’t have time to search for Selina. Didn’t have time to see if she was dancing with another male.
Rion weaved through the crowd, collecting glasses until his tray was full. He followed the other servants to the kitchens and breezed through the heavy double doors.
The kitchens were bustling and hot and crammed as servants filed in, set their empty trays along a side table and took new ones. Some were filled with alcohol, others small delicacies that made his mouth water. They clearly wouldn’t be getting a break tonight. Especially where drinks were concerned.
Rion stepped back to observe, his tray still in hand. To anyone else, he might appear as a new hire. Someone who didn’t quite know or remember where things went.
It became clear from the voice ringing above all the others who was in charge. Another male, this one wearing a similar white uniform, but his had some sort of patch in the corner. Rion didn’t take the time to study it. Instead, he approached said male, doing his best to appear unintimidating.
The male’s sharp gaze locked on him. He looked Rion over then threw his arms up in agitation.
“Someone—” He paused, trying to will a tremor to his voice. He wasn’t sure he succeeded. “Someone requested drinks downstairs. They said to bring the ones reserved for the—afterparty.” It wasn’t a lie, he had overheard someone requesting drinks for an afterparty. Just a different one.
The male’s face paled and his voice lowered. “For the governor?” Rion nodded. “You’re certain?” Rion nodded again.
The male loosed a nervous sigh, then glanced toward someone in the back. Rion wasn’t sure who. He ran a hand through his hair, chewed his bottom lip. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck. “All right. Wait here.”
He disappeared through another door and emerged less than a minute later with a tray of bubbling drinks, an entire bottle of amber liquid, and half a dozen empty glasses. A small plate of desserts rested in the center.
“Have you attended one of their . . . events before?” Rion shook his head and furrowed his brow, doing his best to appear concerned by the idea. The male ran his hands through his hair again. “Right. Just keep your head down and do whatever they say. You should be fine.” Rion nodded and turned to leave, but the male gripped his arm. “ Whatever they say,” he emphasized. “They have certain . . . tastes.” His sympathetic gaze told Rion this male had been subjected to those tastes before. His stomach turned.
Rion made a show of swallowing hard. “I understand.”
The male gave him a grim nod, then gestured to follow him back out into the hall. They turned right and went straight for the newly built wall where a staircase had been years ago.
The male touched a side panel and pushed. The wall cracked open and slid to the side.
“Don’t touch anything,” the male warned. “Just stand in a corner until they arrive.” Rion only nodded, then the male closed the wall behind him, trapping Rion in nearly total darkness.
He waited for his eyes to adjust before venturing down the winding staircase. The very one he remembered.
A dim light appeared ahead, followed by another and another. Clearly mood lighting for things he had no intension of participating in.
Rion eyed the flutes and desserts. Others would have likely snuck one, but Rion didn’t dare. The gods only knew what strange concoctions Foley and his guests partook in.
Rion shuddered. At least he and Selina agreed on one thing: Neither wanted to be involved with anything that male had to offer.
At the base of the stairs, the walls elongated to reveal a large room with an inviting tone. A lush red sofa sat in the middle of the space with a thick rug laid out before it and two end tables on either side. An onyx coffee table stood atop the soft rug. Someone had already lit the oil lamps and a few dozen candles scattered around the space.
Which meant he didn’t have a lot of time.
His eyes roamed over thick curtains, a fully stocked bar, a small fireplace with smoldering embers that added unnecessary heat to the room. His nose crinkled at the burning incense in the corner, a mixture of ylang ylang and sage.
Rion pulled back the curtains to reveal an uninviting hallway. The air inside was too stuffy for his liking.
He deposited the tray on the bar and studied the space again. Rion briefly rummaged through the small rooms and the desks within, but they were largely unused. One had a single piece of paper in a large drawer. He reentered the main room and began rifling through drawers, knocking on the sides of bookcases and shifting his weight across each floorboard in the event—a creak.
Rion stepped back and shifted his weight again. He stared at the thick rug beneath his feet.
No. It was too easy. Surely they wouldn’t put important documents in the middle of the main room. But then, if everyone was distracted and drugged—
Rion moved the table and rolled the rug away. He pulled a small knife from his boot, then pried the floorboard up. Inside, wrapped in a violet cloth, was a small grayish box with a crow etched into the lid.
They couldn’t be serious.
Rion popped it open. Inside sat a few folded documents, two pairs of rings, both with a crow emblem, and a series of vials he didn’t have any interest in opening.
Rion unfolded the documents and sure enough a list of names along with what appeared to be formulas and notes about things that were beyond him.
Too easy. It was all too easy and obvious and—
“The look suits you.” Rion looked up to find Foley staring down at him, a playful smirk on his face as he scanned Rion from head to toe. The male held a glass of wine in one hand while the other lazily gripped the railing.
Rion stood slowly, papers still in hand. Foley drained the wine, smacked his lips, then studied the empty glass. “Although, I’d place you even lower than the servants. Perhaps lower than the half-breeds, but,” his gaze met Rion’s again. “A lord on his knees does have a certain appeal.”
Rion let his magic unfurl from beneath his sleeves. “Too bad there’s not a lord willing.”
The male shrugged. “No matter. Ladies are just as pleasant. I’m sure I could coax your sister into submission. I do have a scar to repay her for, after all.” Rion glanced to the side of the male’s neck and noted the long slender patch of silver skin that poked out from beneath his tunic. Saoirse had indeed given it to him, but she’d also insisted he come quietly. He’d refused.
“I’d keep her alive, of course. No need to waste perfectly good entertainment.”
A growl escaped Rion’s lips. The rock beneath the rug began to crumble and join the already swirling bits of dirt and debris.
“Now, now, I just had this place redesigned. Please don’t tear it all apart.” Males and females crept down the stairs, their weapons already drawn and glinting in the candle light. “While I’d love to keep you alive as well, I’m not sure risking the gods’ wrath is worth it in the end. Better to be rid of you and earn their favor.”
Foley didn’t reach for a weapon.
“No plans to take me on yourself?”
The male glanced down at his perfectly tailored black jacket, then his shining boots. “I’m afraid there’s a party I need to attend with a beautiful female that has drawn the attention of far too many guests. She’s quite pretty, that one. I wonder how you ever landed her.” He tsked . “It’s a shame she’s sullied herself with the likes of you, though. I would have rather enjoyed peeling that dress off her body.”
Rion’s entire world froze. He clenched his fists. Felt his magic rise. “You lay one hand on her and I’ll tear your arm off.”
“Hit a soft spot, did I?” The warriors were off the stairs now, circling Rion, waiting for Foley’s order. “If you’re still alive when I return, I’ll have my warriors bring back a souvenir. Would you like a finger? Or a strand of her hair?” He smirked. “Or would someone with your dark tendencies prefer an entrail?” He stepped back and Rion lunged, slamming his magic into and through the three warriors separating Rion from Foley.
Blood sprayed and the others tried to dodge but they weren’t fast enough. Rion’s hand shot out, but Foley summoned his own magic, tearing the stairs beneath his feet apart as vines rose to block Rion’s outstretched arm. Rion shredded the greenery and Foley’s eyes flew open wide when Rion’s hand wrapped around his throat and slammed him into the nearest wall.
The others recovered and moved, but Rion’s magic rose in an impenetrable wall, separating the warriors from their employer.
“Kill me and you’ll never find her.”
Rion stopped squeezing, slightly loosened his grip, and leaned close, his teeth bared. “Where is she?”
“With a few of my lackeys. As soon as you disappeared, I moved in. It’s so easy to drug a female drinking and eating everything in sight. The other guests merely assumed she was too drunk to stand.”
Rion growled and slung the male behind him. He crashed through Rion’s sand and into his own warriors. Blood filled the air and one cursed, muttering an apology to his companion who clutched a bleeding arm.
Foley scrambled to his feet and his warriors took positions in front of him. Rion barely paid them any attention; his rage centered on the male who’d orchestrated this entire thing. He wasn’t lying. Every word that spilled from his vile lips was the truth.
Rion should have known better than to leave her alone. Of course she’d be vulnerable. She was too confident for her own good, almost as if she believed herself invincible. He’d left her to the wolves and had no one else to blame but himself. Rion recalled the atrocities he’d witnessed and tried not to imagine Selina in a similar predicament.
Rion snarled and the warriors backed up a step, their magic faltering. One female from behind made her move. Vines shot out for him, but Rion’s magic reacted faster. Like a viper snatching prey. He turned cold, hard eyes to stare her down and she retreated several steps.
“If any of you value your lives, leave.” It was the only warning they’d get.
A few paused, staring. He could tell they wanted to, but something kept them rooted in place. Fine then, if they wanted to serve a male like Foley, then they could die like him, too.
Rion ducked when a burst of roots shot from the ceiling. They impaled the place he’d just been standing and cracked the floor. Rion planted a fist in the male’s jaw to his left. He heard a crack, then Rion’s magic snatched his neck and twisted. The sound radiated throughout the small space.
Another female jumped for him and Rion planted his fist in her solar plexus before bringing his knee up to her gut. He tossed her to the side and turned for her nearest companion. Rion buried a blade deep in the male’s chest. He stumbled back, clutching the area before falling to his knees. Red stained the floor.
Foley backed away, a new sense of fear engulfing him. Another warrior came at Rion from behind. He ducked and let their body sail over his. He reached out with his magic to pull them close, then sliced the male’s throat.
It was a short dance, Rion’s rage feeding his frenzy as he cut each down one at a time. Selina. Selina was in trouble. Selina was drugged and unable to defend herself. Selina was out there, possibly calling for him—
The last fell and Rion turned to Foley. The male had his back pressed against the bar as if he could disappear into it.
Rion prowled closer.
Foley scrambled for a stool and flung it at Rion. Rion’s magic shattered it, sending wood flying in all directions.
“The longer you waste time with me, the worse it’ll be for her.” He gave a nervous laugh. “She’s likely already lost a limb, maybe two if the warriors followed my instructions.”
Rion froze. His nostrils flared. “Where. Is. She.”
“The thing is, if—” Rion shot a tendril of his magic out. It went clean through the male’s thigh, the hole as big as a gold coin. Foley cried out and doubled over, reaching yet not daring to touch the wound and the magic still moving within it.
“Where is she?”
Foley laughed again, hysterical as he tried to breathe through the pain. “You’re not going—” The sand clenched around his thigh hard and began sawing. Foley howled in anguish, then Rion closed the distance and clutched the male’s jaw. He tilted his head back and squeezed, forcing Foley to look him in the eye. To meet the gaze of The Demon so many feared.
His magic kept moving, kept cutting. “Where. Is. She?” he bit out again with barely controlled rage.
Tears ran down Foley’s face and his lips trembled. “N-North,” he choked out. “S-She’s n-n-orth, just outside the c-city. Up the hill th-through the trees.”
Rion squeezed and pulled him in closer. “I will count every mark upon her flesh. Every scrape.” He squeezed harder. “Then I’m coming back to return what you did tenfold. So you better start praying she’s intact.” Rion shoved the male back and he flipped over the bar backward.
Then he was running. He shot up the stairs and blasted the entire wall away that kept the stairs hidden from view. The crowd screamed and parted and Rion sprinted for the main doors. Guards drew their weapons, ready to intervene, but Rion shoved them aside. He thought he heard part of the marble crack, but he didn’t stop to look. Not as panic gripped his heart and spurred him faster.
Those outside the palace fled at the sight of his magic. Outside was dark and clouds hid the moon from his view.
Rion’s heart pounded in his throat as he raced through the city faster than he’d ever run in his life.
She’s likely already lost a limb.
Foley’s voice burned through him. It hadn’t been that long, he reasoned with himself. He hadn’t been gone that long. There was still hope. He gritted his teeth. Had they grabbed her as soon as he’d gone down the stairs, or right after he’d knocked out the servant? He’d refused to find her on the dance floor, afraid his instincts wouldn’t be able to handle it. If he’d just looked , then maybe—
Rion pushed harder. Foley was dead. As soon as Rion had Selina in his arms, he was going back to tear that male apart piece by wicked piece.
Selina was a warrior, he kept reminding himself as he raced across the open plains. She knew how to handle torture and pain. She’d been trained for it. But—what if they hurt her in ways she’d never recover? If they took her arm, her leg—
Rion had seen other Fae devastated by such an injury. Many were able to recover, and their healers could fashion makeshift limbs to replace those missing. But there were the occasional few who sank into depression. Those who couldn’t cope with losing a piece of themselves.
He prayed he wouldn’t have to find out how Selina might react.
Rion sprinted uphill, his magic billowing around his body even as he entered the trees. Darkness surrounded him, an ever present friend.
He scented the males first. Then her. Her blood.
Rion broke through the trees and the sight of her kneeling on the forest floor, her lip busted and body bleeding struck him to the core.
A male stood over her, his weapon raised and Rion roared.
His magic broke from the ground, ripping chunks of earth free before they split and surrounded his body in a spiraling frenzy. The male didn’t bother to stop. He swung his blade in a wide arc, aiming for her throat. The earth beneath the male’s feet came alive and shot for his arm, wringing the entire limb back so hard, bones snapped.
Rion let the male writhe on the ground, content to watch him suffer in pain.
Selina’s tear-filled gaze met his. Her left eye was already swollen shut and he wondered if those beautiful hazy eyes even recognized him from the amount of drugs coursing through her system.
They’d stuffed a gag in her mouth and tied her arms behind her back. Her ankles were bound too and that once beautiful dress was in shreds, barely covering her body.
Gods, had they—
Rion roared again and his magic surrounded Selina, going in to gently tear the bindings from her hands and feet. Her eyelids fluttered and her body tilted, but Rion caught her with his magic, urging that small bit of it to remain gentle. To care for her. He paused to listen to her labored breathing and hated the Fae that had caused it.
A group standing on the opposite side of the meadow drew arrows, some aimed at him, others aimed for Selina. Rion ran for her, ran as if his own life depended on it.
The strings snapped. The arrows flew.
Rion’s magic engulfed her completely, forming a thick wall that stopped everything in its tracks.
He missed one aimed for him and it cut across his upper arm. Another whizzed past his leg, barely leaving a scrape. But a third embedded itself in his left forearm, just barely missing the bone. Rion growled at those nocking their second arrows. The earth at their feet bent to his will. It crawled up their legs and their panicked screams filled the air as they tried to jump away and failed.
He crushed their lower limbs, then slid to his knees at Selina’s side.
Panic coursed through him as his gaze flickered over her wounds and he wondered where he could touch her. He gently took her swollen face between his hands and tilted it up so that he could look into her eyes. She stared at him, blinking as if she couldn’t process the world around her.
“Tell me you’re okay,” he pleaded. Rion didn’t know why he said it. She most certainly wasn’t okay. Not with her eye swollen shut or the deep cut in her lip. Not with the lacerations along her arms or the bruising he could already see forming along one side of her exposed ribs. They’d beaten her. Bludgeoned the side of her head until blood crusted in her scalp.
Rion’s eyes slowly lifted to those daring to circle the pair. Daring to draw close to the monster in their midst. They’d done this to her. They’d taken an unarmed female from a party and tortured her. To what end? To discover how much information she’d collected on the rebels?
He was the one with that information, not her. He was the one who’d gone in and—bait. She was the bait to lure him here. The documents had been too easily placed because they’d wanted him to find them. They’d wanted the two to separate.
Foley had been planning this from the beginning. Ever since the day he’d given Selina that wicked smile.
Rion’s fists clenched and a familiar burn went through his arm where the arrow was embedded. He recognized it now, but it would do them little good.
He snarled and two backed away, their gazes flitting between their companions. Their plan had gone awry. Rion snapped the arrow in his arm and wrenched the shaft free. They merely stared in horror.
Then he stood, anger coursing through his veins in a way he’d never felt before.
More Fae emerged from the shadows with weapons drawn and magic poised. They studied him, studied the female at his feet.
Rion let his magic crawl up and surround her, completely encasing her in its embrace. Her heart rate didn’t change. Either she wasn’t afraid or wasn’t aware enough to be. He stepped away from the hardened mound and the Fae before him stepped back.
Then Rion unleashed hell upon the world.
He was a frenzy of movement. Bones cracked, blood sprayed, Fae howled in pain as they begged for mercy. He didn’t give it.
Rion used their weapons against them. Threw knives and blades and shattered any bits of magic they tried to use.
He wasn’t here to fight. He was here to conquer. After what they’d done to Selina, he wouldn’t give them an edge. Wouldn’t give them a chance to fight back.
The bodies fell. More came. Rion lost count.
Cuts appeared along his skin, but he barely felt them.
Vines wrapped around his feet only to disintegrate seconds later.
Warriors fell as if they were novices.
The night darkened.
Then the world went silent.
Rion’s ragged breaths filled the space as he waited, poised.
Someone cried out and Rion’s gaze turned to them. He snapped the male’s neck.
Another crawled, keeping low to the ground and the very earth he hoped might hide him, swallowed him whole.
Another second. No movement.
He turned, eyes roaming over the scattered bodies. The blood. The limbs.
They didn’t move either.
Insects crawled across the bloody grass. A bird ventured close to examine the carnage or search for its next meal.
Someone whimpered and every instinct in his body zeroed in on that one sound.
He scented the air, felt when she touched that impenetrable wall.
Rion let it fall and the female’s scent floated toward him, dragging Rion from the bloodlust.
He blinked a few times, breathed in the blood coated air.
Selina.
She whimpered again.
Then Rion was moving toward her, taking the hand that had clamped around a fallen blade.
She looked at him again. There. A bit of recognition. And . . . fear.
“It’s okay now,” he said, his voice too rough. Too raw from roaring at the warriors who’d done this to her.
Carefully, oh so carefully, Rion tilted her body and scooped her knees up before cradling her close. She stiffened and tried to push away at first, then something seemed to come over her. Maybe it was his scent. Maybe it was exhaustion. But Selina curled into his chest and closed her eyes.
Her breathing slowed and Rion was almost thankful.
He stared north and didn’t bother looking back.