Chapter Twenty-Five
Upon concluding her story, Selina's comrades made sure she was fed before dousing the candlelight. She’d balked, claiming she didn't need to sleep, but the female with short black hair was hearing none of it.
Rion took his leave, though sitting in the cavern staring at her comrades in awkward silence didn't exactly sound appealing. He was still an outcast as far as they were concerned.
Rion peered outside. The rain was light, barely more than a drizzle. Not that he'd care if it turned into a downpour. He had his magic to shield him if he wished it to.
Rion ventured out and followed the strong, clear scent of a nearby river. He freshened up, then settled against a tree to finish off the last of his food reserves.
He leaned his head against the rough bark and peered into the gray sky. She was back with her comrades. Selina was safe, which meant he could finally rest.
Rion's eyes grew heavy and he summoned his magic, cocooning himself in a sphere of protection before letting exhaustion claim him.
***
Rion slept hard and woke well after sunrise. He’d nearly given a squirrel a heart attack when he’d emerged from his cocoon. The critter had run up a tree before turning to scream at him.
He laughed, stretched, and marched straight back to the cavern.
There were two guards stationed at the entrance today. A good thing, considering Foley might be trying to hunt them down. He expected no less from Selina’s team.
Rion nodded in greeting, but neither warrior returned it. He inwardly grimaced. If saving Selina wasn't enough to earn their favor—Rion shook his head and sighed. He had a lot of work to do if he hoped to win their favor.
Despite loathing this presence, none tried to stop him as he veered down the tunnel that led to the single circular room.
Selina’s light laughter floated down the hall and Rion’s heart warmed with the sound. He slowed his steps and peered inside.
Three of her comrades stood around her with warm mugs in their hands. Selina stood with them, leaning heavily against the back wall.
Conversation halted when they spotted him and the smile that had been on Selina’s face faded entirely when she met his gaze.
The female with short black hair slowly reached for her dagger, but Selina stopped her with a gentle hand on her elbow. “It’s all right.”
The female eyed Selina for a long while. She glanced at Rion, then back again. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, it’s fine.”
Rion studied the female and her rapid heartbeat. He noted the way she refused to release her weapon. Fire burned through those dark eyes of hers. A deep, burning rage.
The female loosed a breath before jerking her head. All three filed out, their bodies nearly pressed against the wall to avoid touching him.
“What was that about?” Rion asked.
Selina waved a hand in dismissal. “They’re just protective.”
Rion watched the entrance for another moment, half wondering if the females would return. Selina shifted her weight and grimaced. The movement had his attention back on Selina in an instant. He eyed her stance and the way she kept her weight off her leg.
“Do you want to sit?” he offered.
Selina shook her head. “My legs were cramping.” Her voice turned soft. Disappointed. “We’re headed back to Nàdair tomorrow.”
“You told them?”
She nodded. “I—” her brow furrowed, then her eyes swam with emotion. Rion felt something in his chest pull. He didn’t want her to hurt. Didn’t want her to feel anything but joy and happiness.
She looked up then, locking her eyes with his, and a new sort of fear flooded his body.
The air shifted in the small room. It grew heavier. Her heart jolted, and Rion’s breath caught when her eyes dipped to his lips. His body.
The mission was over. She didn’t need him anymore.
Selina took a limping step toward him and Rion instinctively stepped back, mirroring her motion once. Twice. Particles of dirt floated up between them and she paused.
“Your magic reacts to your emotions, you know.” He swallowed hard. “What are you feeling right now, Rion of Brónach?”
His lips parted, but no sound came out. Her chest rose and fell, matching his own as she dared another step closer.
What was he feeling right now?
Afraid.
Afraid of change. Of confirmation. Of goodbye . . .
Another step and his back was against the wall. Then she was suddenly so close he could have reached out and touched her.
Selina was breathless as she said, “You liked the kiss.” The kiss. The act back when they'd first entered Fernsworth. Then again, after they'd been caught rummaging through a male's desk. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet he’d thought of nothing else. The caress of her lips, the way her body had molded against his. Her intoxicating scent that drove him beyond all rational thought and reason. It had been torture to restrain himself these past few weeks.
She stepped closer. Close enough that their chests were almost touching. She peered up at him from beneath her lashes. His magic danced, pulsing to the rapid beat of his heart.
Selina tilted her head as if still waiting for an answer. The word barely escaped his lips.
“Yes.”
It wasn’t powerful enough to encompass his feelings. It did nothing to explain the madness that rushed through him from the mere thought of her.
She smiled anyway.
Gods, he wanted her. Rion wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his entire life.
Her gaze slid to his lips once more. “Then kiss me again.”
A dream. He’d slipped into a dream. And he never wanted to wake. Let this be his eternity. Let this be his life.
Rion dared to lean down and capture her lips in an achingly slow kiss. Her breath hitched and some animalistic instinct broke free of his control.
Rion crushed his mouth against hers and she met his ferocity, matching him movement for movement. Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging at the strands, and their tongues warred for dominance.
Rion spun her, wrapping one arm around her torso before slowing to press her against the wall. He closed the space between their bodies and only paused when she winced.
His gaze flickered across her face. “Your injuries—”
“I don’t care.” Then her lips were on his again, consuming him, pulling at every instinct he’d locked away since the first time they’d touched.
Intoxicating hints of vanilla and wildflowers filled his nose, and he moaned into her mouth. Her warm hands ventured beneath his shirt, ghosting over his skin, squeezing his muscles in places he’d always imagined a female might like.
Gods, her touch was like kindling to his blood, igniting his body with flames so bright he was sure they’d take form and consume them both.
Rion let his hands wander over her torso, her legs, her arms, her face, her throat. He devoured that, too. Gods, he loved her neck, the rapid pulse beneath her skin.
Selina pulled on his shirt and Rion only broke their kiss long enough to rip the material over his head before pressing against her again. She could have him. Every bit of him. Here and now if she wanted. He couldn’t care less that her comrades were so close. Let them listen. Let that male listen and know who she’d chosen.
His magic still danced around their bodies, caressing her skin in places his hands hadn’t yet reached. She hooked one leg around his waist and Rion pressed into her, relishing the friction of the movement. She felt so right. So perfect beneath him. Nothing else existed in this moment but her.
His fangs grazed her throat and Selina moaned, leaning further into his touch.
He had to resist the urge to mark her. It was an old custom most didn’t perform anymore. If she’d been at her full strength, Rion might have nicked her skin, just to seek permission.
But not today.
He devoured her neck again with his tongue and teeth, then returned to her lips before blinding white-hot pain tore through his lower back.
Rion roared and arched to try to escape the deep burning sensation. He cursed and gritted his teeth. It struck again, slamming through him before he could collect himself long enough to register where the pain was coming from, who to strike, and where.
Rion shoved Selina away and her head cracked against the stone wall. His stomach soured, dread and despair sinking through him long before he even saw her face.
She wouldn’t.
She couldn’t.
She’d said . . . nothing. She’d said nothing. All those times he’d mentioned the future, she’d been silent. Contemplative. And he’d quickly covered for her. Because he’d been afraid to hear any sort of rejection.
Every conversation flashed through his mind in rapid succession. The last few months they’d spent together. Everything she’d done.
She’s manipulative. She doesn’t fail a mission.
The rebels. They’d been part of the assignment, but they’d also been a cover. A decoy for the real reason Selina and her twelve were out in the middle of nowhere.
The information. The sneaking in. Had any of it been real?
Rion recalled the way Seán had questioned her. Recalled the male’s anger, too. Seán hadn't known. None of them knew, at least not before yesterday. Had she finally filled them in? Was that the reason the pair hadn't smiled at him that morning? Why the short-haired—a flash of pain forced Rion to his knees. He gasped and his palms hit the stone floor.
Breath wouldn’t come fast enough.
It had been a ruse. All of it. Every touch was calculated. Every movement thought out.
She’d kept her team in the dark because he would have noticed if they acted differently. It would have given away her plans.
Saoirse had warned him. His instincts had warned him. Selina—he’d fallen, no, leaped for her. She’d been everything he’d ever wanted. To just have someone listen to him. Hold him.
Rion dared to look up and found a warrior standing over him, bloody knife in hand, her magic already crawling from between the cracks in the wall.
She lowered herself into a stance, no longer in pain. Had she told the healer to play along as well? They’d been alone together enough. Is that why the innkeeper had smiled at him? Why others appeared so relaxed? Because they knew, too?
Rion gasped for air. Not due to the physical pain radiating through his back, but because his heart had shattered into a million pieces. He’d trusted this female. Trusted her with truths and dreams. He’d opened himself in a way he’d never done before.
And she’d—
She’d—
“Why?” The broken word was barely more than a whisper. He thought he saw a flash of regret in her amber eyes. Could have sworn he glimpsed a line of silver before she blinked it away and clenched her jaw.
But maybe that was all part of the manipulation, too. Just more ways to throw him off.
His heart beat faster as every image of them fractured in his mind. He’d imagined a life with her. Had allowed his mind to see possibilities he’d never considered. To live as a normal male. To raise a family.
But he’d been cursed by the gods.
Cursed and damned to a life of pain.
The betrayal of his father had hurt.
The betrayal of Caol had hurt.
But this. This was a pain far deeper than any chasm. Bigger than any universe. Rion felt something in himself crack before splintering, falling away piece by piece. The shards moved through his body, sharp and angled, slicing through everything as they went.
“Why?” he whispered again.
“You said it yourself.” Her voice wasn’t the same. It was darker. Crueler. “I can be quite manipulative when I need to be.”
“No.” He couldn’t accept that it had all been fake. That she’d felt nothing.
Selina cocked her head. “Did you really think someone could love you? A monster?”
He had. And he loved her, even now, as she stood above him with a weapon in her hand. He’d fallen so hard there was no getting up. Fallen for all the times she’d extended her hand and not been afraid.
And none of it had been real.
Rion gasped from the pain making its way through his heart. Like a black snake poisoning him from the inside out.
Maybe her injury had been part of the ruse, too. Maybe she’d planned it right alongside Foley and they’d laughed together at his expense.
Alec. His brother’s face flashed before his eyes. Alec had known. That’s why he hadn’t told Saoirse about the mission. Because too many details and questions would have revealed his true intentions.
To rid the world of the abomination.
Rion pushed up to his feet and stumbled backward. Blood trickled down his skin, coating the waist of his pants. He just stared at the female before him. Stared at the ruthless look in her eyes.
Selina bared her teeth. “You are an affront to nature and if your father had any sort of backbone, he would have ended you himself.”
“You don’t mean that.” He’d been an innocent child. She couldn’t really be willing—
Rion fell back to his knees. It was too much. All of it. The pain. Reality. The truth.
Monster . The word rang through him, whispered by countless voices in his head. People from his past, his present, his future.
Monster.
Monster.
Monster.
Everything happened in slow motion.
Selina moved, her body swift and unyielding as she crossed the short distance. Her movements weren’t sloppy or that of a novice. She’d only asked him to teach her as part of the act.
A war cry fell from her lips.
Rion raised his arm and earth shot out to intercept her knife. Selina’s magic speared for him then, the living vines and plants as deadly as any blade. She’d had so many other opportunities. But she hadn’t been sure of herself. No, maybe that wasn’t it at all. Maybe she’d wanted this . Wanted him broken and on his knees.
He saw the wicked gleam in her eyes. Saw the way she craved what was before her. It wasn’t just about the missions or her reputation. It was about the final act. The breaking. The reveal.
The Selina he’d fallen in love with wasn’t real. The warrior angling her blade for his throat wasn’t the sweet female who loved shopping and food and expensive trinkets. That had been her mask. One she wore so well, Rion wondered if she believed it herself.
Rion’s magic blocked two more tendrils that shot for him, then smothered the small plants crawling through the earth. It all felt different. Her movements. Her magic.
He’d loved a fa?ade.
A root broke from the surface at his feet. For half a heartbeat, Rion wondered what it might be like to succumb to her onslaught. To relent and leave this life while begging the gods for mercy in the next one. Perhaps they’d allow him to atone for the atrocities he’d committed to warrant his current punishment.
Or maybe he’d return just to relive this nightmare all over again.
One look at her face told Rion she wouldn’t regret his death. She’d celebrate it. Boast about it until the next big story came along and he was forgotten by the world.
Hot tears streaked down Rion’s face and he roared, letting anger and pain fill his body, his soul, his magic. The very mountain shuddered. The cavern walls split, cracking all the way to the ceiling before coming apart, floating in the air around him.
His ears rang and Rion let his rage take over. Screams echoed from within the tunnels. Screams and war cries as her comrades’ feet pounded against the earth, coming to assist their leader.
They didn’t adore her because she cared. They followed her because of her ruthlessness.
Rion’s magic grabbed Selina’s body, caging her in a strong vice. She struggled, screaming and roaring and snapping her teeth at him in defiance.
He squeezed and she cried out. Then her face shifted, turning back into the female he’d known for the last several weeks. “Rion,” she tried, her voice strained. “Please.” His stomach hollowed out, then he snapped her neck.
Something inside him snapped along with it.
Seán roared from the room entrance and vines split through the dirt at Rion’s feet. He shredded them without a single passing thought and in the next second, the male’s body splattered against the side wall, his head crushed by the Fae sized boulder Rion had thrown in his direction.
If they wanted to be together, they could do it here where their corpses would rot and their souls right along with them.
The sisters came at him next, all three moving as a unit. One went left, the other right, but the center one, the eldest, came at him head on.
In other circumstances, in another life, Rion might have enjoyed their fight. He would have likely dragged it out just to see what the three of them were capable of. But right now—his fists clenched. Right now, all Rion wanted was blood.
Their snarls called to his instincts, and Rion let the ceiling collapse, leaving only a small pocket for his body to safely stand in. He left it there a moment, listening to the grinding of their bones, their last breaths, before lifting it again.
Only the eldest still drew breath. She choked on her own blood, her chest caved in. The others had their limbs twisted at odd angles. Too fast. It was too fast and yet he wanted to kill them faster. Rid the land of their filth.
He didn’t bother putting her out of her misery.
The rest died one at a time. Some cursed him as they went, others passed silently, as warriors were trained to do, fighting until the bitter end.
Caol had tried to teach him to fight without emotion. The male claimed emotion was a distraction. But emotion was exactly what fueled Rion now. It tore through his body in an angry current, carrying everything he’d tried to hold back.
Like a dam, he’d broken and was ready to flood the land with his rage. He didn’t care that it was dangerous or that it might be a crutch. He didn’t need to control himself. His enemies were falling just fine with his mind addled. Broken. Shattered beyond repair.
The mountain above him shuddered and the walls cracked. Heavy debris fell, rocking the earth as he limped from the cave. Rion held it all up, held it until he walked beyond the entrance, then turned to watch it all crash down.
Large boulders tumbled down the mountainside, but he shattered them before they got close. Trees toppled over, and Rion broke through the bark, scattering it into a million pieces.
Water gushed out from one side of the mountain, running across the flat ground, searching for another crevice to sink into.
Dust and debris flew up and around his body, then just as quickly, the world fell silent again.
Particles lingered in the air, burning his nose and staining his cheeks. He didn’t care that it clung to his tears. Didn’t bother wiping them away, either.
Rion stared at the rubble, at the cracks under his feet, then a shuddering breath went through him and he collapsed. Pain returned to his body tenfold as the adrenaline ebbed and he cried out against it, cursing the gods for ever letting him walk the earth.
Every shift of his body hurt.
Everything . . . hurt.
He was nothing all over again. A being left to survive in a cruel world that didn’t want him.
Rion roared at the heavens and the thunderous clouds rolling in. It felt as if the sky itself was ready to weep right alongside him.
Time passed. He didn’t know how long. The roar in his veins simmered to burning coals, and Rion continued staring at the crumbled mountain.
It reflected everything he felt. He was broken, no longer able to return to his former self. Even if someone miraculously managed to put the pieces back together, all it would take would be a small shift to bring it back down again.
The sky rumbled overhead, then the rain began to fall. He tilted his head back to let the cool drops hit his face. Then finally took a deep breath.
Then another.
And another.
He had to get out of here. He needed to go home. Once again, he was running to Saoirse with wounds from another.
Another breath and Rion forced his aching body to stand. He could handle physical pain. He could get back to Nàdair. So long as he didn’t think about—fresh tears rolled down his cheeks, hot and angry.
He deserved this. Deserved every second for being so gullible and stupid.
Rion drew his magic around his body, feeding the frenzied storm even as the rain continued to beat down on his back. He took a single step, caged his heart in steel, and began the long, agonizing trek home.
He wouldn’t look back.
His breath was ragged, his heart rate sporadic. Warm rain rolled down his face, or maybe those were more tears.
He grew numb. Cold. But pushed on.
Night and day came and went. His body screamed, begging to stop. To fall. To fail.
His back throbbed, his muscles ached, and his heart bled, and bled, and bled.
He refused to give in, even when waves of emotion overwhelmed him and he wanted to tear the land to shreds. Rion took that emotion and buried it in a well within himself.
He would remember. This drowning pain was the direct result of him putting his trust in others.
Images began pouring through his mind. Memories of her.
The first conversation. The first lure. A female who desired the basic comforts of life. Someone who was innocent.
The first kiss, a ploy meant to throw off not only the citizens, but him as well. A taste that would leave him wanting more. And gods, he’d wanted so much more.
Both memories went into the well, falling deep.
Her tugging him around the marketplace, then changing into a dress that was to serve as a distraction. A distraction for him.
The way she’d planned to be caught so she could pull him close, then see how volatile his temper turned. A test to see how she might navigate him.
The attack from the civilians—likely her plan—and the way she’d helped tend to him afterward. To further gain his trust.
The tender way she’d run her hands through his hair. The look in her eyes.
Rion clenched his fists and shoved all those thoughts down, hoping they’d drown and never resurface.
His mind drifted to the party, the way she’d been hurt. The way she’d planned it all so that she seemed worse off than she actually was. The patience. The timing. The planning.
She’d done it all. Just so she could see the look of devastation in his eyes the moment she revealed herself.
He’d never forget that look.
Never forget the female he’d loved either, even if she never really existed.
Rion kept moving. Kept letting his mind cycle through the memories, piecing everything together one small bit at a time. Every word, every touch, every calculated move.
He passed trees, meadows, travelers as they raced from his destructive path.
He ignored them.
Rion’s throat burned, begging for water. He vaguely remembered drinking what was left in the water skin hanging from his belt. Then he dropped the water skin and kept moving.
He was done. Beyond done. Never again. He’d never let his heart bleed like this again.
Everyone would just betray him, eventually.
His father. His teacher. His friend. His classmates. The villagers. The staff that had once looked out for him. Each and every person held a knife, just waiting for the moment they could shove it in his back.
His legs finally gave out and Rion’s palms scraped against the rock as he hit the ground. A fresh wave of pain coursed through him as he sat there, staring at the very rock he commanded.
A laugh escaped. Grew. Bubbled over into hysteria. Maybe that female would succeed, even buried beneath the earth. He wouldn’t say her name. He’d already buried it.
His wounds still bled, breaking open as he trudged across Brónach. Rion’s vision blurred, but he forced himself up once more. Sweat rolled down his face, but he could see the redwoods rising above the trees that surrounded them. Calling him. Beckoning him home.
Rion circled around to the side entrance Saoirse had designed for him all those years ago. He blasted through the greenery meant to shield it from view. Maybe he should have second guessed using it. Maybe in his absence, Saoirse had set traps for him too, ready to be rid of her nuisance of a little brother.
No—not Saoirse. She’d always been there for him. Healed him. She’d made a promise to protect him and care for him.
Grief lodged itself in Rion’s throat.
So many promises. So many broken.
He didn’t remember entering the room. Didn’t remember the walk up the stairs or down the hallways. Or whose room he now stood in. He only knew it smelled familiar somehow, safe, maybe, if anywhere was safe anymore.
His magic kept circling, kept close to him, ready to protect.
“Gods, Rion, what the—” He knew that voice. Rion turned slowly, the figure nothing more than a blur as it ran toward him.
His heart rate spiked. Was it her? Had she somehow escaped the mountain? Slender fingers wrapped around his wrist, but Rion smacked the hand away.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he screamed, his voice hoarse as he stumbled back into a dresser. It tilted and he fell with it. A vase shattered, cold water covered his hands, and his magic billowed out, reaching for the individual.
No, no, he couldn’t do that—he knew them—knew the scent—he—he—his body collapsed and Rion collapsed with it, everything shaking with uncontrollable sobs.
One person. That’s all he wanted. Just one person to understand his soul. His mother. She would have understood. He needed her. They all needed her.
“Rion.” The voice again. So soft and gentle. Coaxing. He looked up, but his vision wouldn’t clear. They moved slower now, crouching as they crawled forward, one arm outstretched.
“It’s Saoirse.”
Saoirse. His sister. She still cared, right? She wouldn’t—his shoulders shook again and his voice broke. “Saoirse?”
That gentle hand touched him again. “I’m here.” He let her wrap one arm under his shoulder. He didn’t like it. Didn’t trust the touch. Any second now—Rion cried out in pain as she pulled him to his feet. “I’m here,” she said again and led him toward the bed.
Rion fell onto his stomach and his sister cursed when she pulled his shirt up to examine his wounds. His head was too heavy to lift anymore. She left and returned moments later. Perhaps she’d put an end to him. Maybe she’d been waiting for the perfect opportunity as well.
A warmth dabbed across his back and he arched off the bed before sobs tore through him again.
He’d killed her. He’d killed her. He’d killed her.
That beautiful smile was gone. The sound of her laughter nothing more than a memory.
No, she’d deserved it.
Didn’t she?
“What happened?” Saoirse voice was soft, welcoming as she cleaned the deep wounds.
“I thought she wanted more,” he replied weakly. He was as pathetic as they came. “She promised—she promised—” Rion couldn’t finish. Didn’t want to.
“Is she dead?” Rion nodded, still clenching his fists. He could scent Saoirse’s anger through his haze. It burned through the room like wildfire. “Good.”
No, it wasn’t good, but he didn’t have the strength to argue. Maybe Saoirse would have killed her if he hadn’t. He’d never know.
All Rion knew was that his dreams for a different life had shattered. Fate had once again intervened to ensure his misery.
Saoirse pressed a cup to his lips. “I need you to drink this.”
He didn’t pull away. Rion took the bitter liquid and swallowed. Maybe this would be his undoing. A painless end.
His body stopped shaking.
His mind stopped racing.
Saoirse cut the shirt from his body and carefully eased it out from beneath him.
“I tried,” he whispered, but his lips had gone numb. He wasn’t sure Saoirse heard him. “I wanted it to be different. I wanted—I wanted—”
Oblivion dragged Rion down, down, down until he knew nothing but the sweet caress of darkness.