Chapter 43
Adozen disastrous possibilities immediately sprang to mind.
Elyndra was a member of the Full Circle. One of the very people who’d bound Rìan into the Veil three centuries ago. If she still stood with them—and I had no reason to believe otherwise—then finding her here wasn't a stroke of luck.
It was a catastrophe.
I anticipated her calling for her guards at any moment, imagined armed Fae appearing from every corner of the brothel to surround us before I could so much as reach for my knife.
Shit. I'd left it upstairs.
Warded cells, iron shackles, interrogation rooms—I could see it all unfolding with alarming clarity.
Perhaps she wouldn't bother with guards at all. Perhaps she'd simply kill us on the spot and be done with it.
I tensed as I waited for whatever came next.
Instead, Elyndra turned on her heel and strode away.
I shot Rìan a questioning look, waiting for some explanation, but he didn't so much as glance in my direction.
He immediately fell into step behind her, leaving me no choice but to hurry after them before I found myself stranded in the middle of the increasingly enthusiastic orgy.
Finally, we reached an unoccupied alcove tucked away from the worst of the chaos. The moment we stepped inside, Rìan pulled the heavy curtains shut behind us. The thick fabric took the edge off the noise from the brothel beyond, turning the deafening cacophony into something more bearable.
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
“When I wove my wards,” Elyndra said at last, her voice trembling, “there was only one person I would allow to pass through.” Her throat bobbed. “Only one.”
Rìan looked carved from stone. I pressed myself farther into the shadows, though I didn't really need to. It was as if I didn't exist.
“I felt you,” she whispered, taking a hesitant step forward. Slowly, she lifted her hands and pressed them flat against his chest.
My brows shot upward so fast they nearly vanished into my hairline.
I'd never seen anyone touch Rìan willingly—let alone affectionately. Other than Levinica. But this—this was an entirely different kind of touch altogether.
“You came back for me,” she breathed, her face tilting up toward his.
His hands closed around her wrists. “I need your help.”
“Of course,” she whispered. “Anything.”
“Pelaga,” he said stiffly as he peeled her hands from his chest. “We need to cross into the Tidelands.”
Confusion flickered across her face, though it seemed secondary to the fact that he had deliberately broken the contact between them.
“We?” Her gaze slid to me.
“The Eidra and I have a task to complete there.”
Her arms fell slowly to her sides. For a moment, she simply stared at me, as though only now realizing I was there. Surprise flashed across her face before her gaze snapped back to Rìan.
“Did you steal her from Aedric?” she asked, genuine horror creeping into her voice.
“No,” Rìan said gruffly.
The answer was so clipped, so entirely lacking in explanation, that I found myself irrationally annoyed on Elyndra's behalf.
She shook her head, the veil rustling softly with the movement. “The Tidelands are warded.”
“Which is why we'll be taking the Looking Glass.”
Her gaze flew back to him. “Rìan, no.”
“I didn't ask for your permission.”
“The Looking Glass was shattered after the war,” she said quickly. “No one has used it in centuries.”
Rìan's brows pulled together. “Then how do you ferry your males and females to your sister brothel in Pelaga?”
Something tightened around her eyes. “I don't. It’s been closed for over two hundred years.”
A low growl rolled through the alcove, the sound seeming far too large for the confined space.
“Is there another way in?”
She hesitated before shaking her head. “Not that I know of. Not without Thalassis's permission.”
“Very well.” Rìan turned toward the curtain and reached for the heavy fabric. “Come, Eidra.”
“Where are you going?” Lady Elyndra stepped forward, alarmed.
“If you can’t help us, you’re of no use to me.”
“Will you not stay?” she nearly wailed, clutching at the hem of his shirt. “We’ve been apart so long—”
He whirled around, his hand closing around her throat. “No thanks to you,” he hissed.
Her eyes widened. “I had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice.” He released her, sending her tumbling back a step. She straightened slowly, sudden steel in her spine as she squared her shoulders to face him.
“They would have killed me. Would you have preferred that?”
“I would have protected you.”
“You were in hiding!” she cried. “You left me exposed! And Hyperia—”
“Don’t you dare.” His voice was a blade. “You sold her to them first. And when you realized what you could gain by allying yourself with the other Courts, you sold me too.”
She fell silent, her eyes pained.
“Are you happy with what you got, Elly?”
Elly? Was I hearing things?
“Mountains of riches. Lords and Ladies willing to overlook your sordid little enterprises.” His mouth twisted in disgust. “Does your depravity know no bounds?”
She whimpered.
“Tell me—does fucking everything that moves fill the hole in your heart?”
“No,” she whispered. “No one could ever take your place.”
Wait—what?
Rìan was Lady Elyndra's legendary lost lover? I glanced at him, taking in the breadth of his shoulders, his godlike body… When my gaze finally reached his face, he was already looking at me. I cleared my throat and quickly looked away.
Unfortunately, Elyndra caught the exchange. Her eyes flicked to me, narrowing for the briefest moment before returning to him.
She took a step back, her fingers moving to the fastening at her throat. “You don’t know how I’ve suffered, Rìan. How I’ve missed you.”
Slowly, she lowered her hood and shrugged off her robes. The fabric pooled at her feet.
Gods—her body was exquisite.
Everything about her was impossibly perfect, from the smooth bronze glow of her skin to the elegant lines of her figure.
Hundreds of fine silver chains adorned her body, layered in glittering strands that wound across her curves, barely concealing the most intimate parts of her.
Her hair was as pale as her eyes, a luminous creamy white that seemed to glow against the warmth of her skin, falling in flawless curls to her waist. Even her brows and lashes were colorless.
For one distracted moment, I found myself wondering what it would be like to be tangled up with someone like her.
I blinked, trying to banish the image before it could take root.
“You don’t know what I did for you, do you?” The chains tinkled softly as she moved. “How I helped the Eidra return to the Moiraithe. How I nearly depleted my own magic holding time still until she could free you.”
A muscle ticked in Rìan’s jaw. His gaze moved over her, taking in the sight she had so deliberately revealed, and a stab of jealousy speared through me. It was followed immediately by something worse.
Inadequacy.
Standing there in borrowed clothes that barely fit, I felt painfully ordinary beside her.
“My love for you has never faltered, Rìan,” Elyndra purred.
One hand rose to the veil concealing the lower half of her face.
“Let me prove it to you now.” Her voice softened. “Let me remind you what my devotion feels like.”
The veil drifted to the floor.
My heart forgot how to beat.
She was breathtaking. High, elegant cheekbones framed a face so striking it scarcely seemed real. Her mouth was full and perfectly shaped, while a scattering of silver freckles dusted the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Her beauty was… otherworldly.
Heat pooled low in my stomach.
I'd never been attracted to another woman before, but somehow Lady Elyndra made me want to fall to my knees and worship her in ways that were deeply inappropriate… and alarmingly appealing.
I shook myself mentally.
Lifting a hand, she brushed her fingertips along the stubble lining his jaw. "Stay with me," she breathed. "Stay this time. They'd never find you here."
Her fingers slipped into the dark hair at the nape of his neck, drawing his mouth down toward hers.
"Perhaps the gods will finally see fit to bond us once and for all."
"I'm already bonded." The words fell from his lips a hair’s breadth from hers.
She blinked. "What?" Elyndra pulled back, confusion giving way to disbelief. "How…? Who?"
Understanding dawned. She rounded on me. "You?" She was somehow even more beautiful when she was angry. I immediately regretted noticing.
“It's not something either of us wanted,” I said hurriedly.
She let out a shrill, disbelieving cackle. "You don't want him?" She gestured toward Rìan as though I'd lost my mind. "Him?"
Rìan's expression darkened.
“Aedric is going to kill you,” she hissed.
"Get me to Pelaga and it won't be a cause for concern."
"I have a better idea." A wry smile curved her mouth, her beauty contorting into something dangerous. "I'll kill her. Aedric never has to know. Let me do that for you."
Ice flooded my veins.
"No."
For a moment, she looked as though he'd struck her. Then her expression smoothed.
"This?" she asked softly, incredulously. "This is what you want?"
Before my eyes, her features rippled and shifted. High cheekbones softened. Color flooded her pale irises, transforming them into a familiar shade of blue-green. Her hair deepened to a rich brown.
A heartbeat later, I was staring at my own face. Or something close enough to it.
The expression she wore—my expression—was so inviting, so seductive, that I scarcely recognized myself.
She could alter her appearance.
Suddenly, I found myself wondering how much of Lady Elyndra's beauty was truly hers. How much had been gifted by nature, and how much had been shaped by her magic?
"No." The word sliced through the room. Rìan's response was immediate, almost violent in its force. It was something in the way he said it that made something catch deep in my chest.
In the blink of an eye, her features shifted back to their original form. Only the hair remained unchanged, identical to mine, right down to the damp strands left by our crossing of the salt flats.
“I need your help, Elly—nothing else. Not anymore.” His voice broke on the last word, and for a fleeting moment his expression strained with something that looked almost like pain. “Get me to Pelaga.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why is that so important?”
“Just trust me when I say that it is.”
She chewed on her lower lip and his eyes dropped to that motion.
“There may be another way,” she said at last. “Let me think on it.”
Rìan blinked, as if awakening from a sudden spell. He dipped his head briefly. “You have my gratitude.”
He opened the curtain and held it for me while I ducked out. He made to join me but Elyndra caught his arm. “Please,” she begged. “I may have your gratitude”—she looked up at him through full, white lashes—“but let me earn your forgiveness as well.”
Rìan's gaze moved over her face, and I found myself wondering how he wasn't squinting. Her beauty was like staring into the sun.
His attention shifted to her still-dark hair, a mirror of my own. Slowly, he reached up and gathered a thick lock between his fingers, the gesture so unexpectedly gentle it hurt to watch.
He nodded.
My stomach dropped. “Rìan—” I started.
“Go back to the room.”
He buried his hand in Elyndra's dark hair. A soft sound escaped her as she leaned into his touch, her own hands fisting in the front of his shirt.
“But—”
“I said go back to the room.” The words cracked like a whip.
Before I could argue further, he disappeared into the alcove with Lady Elyndra. The curtains settled back into place behind them.