EIGHTEEN
brYNDIS ASHGLO
Established as the perfect predator, faeries possess impeccable hearing. It is said that some even possess the gift of listening to unspoken thoughts.
The Legends of The Forgotten, by Tibor Harper
The bed smells of cinnamon and peppermint. Of Odhran. The soft pillow against my chest… The quilt… It all smells like him, and I hate it. I hate that he ruined two of my favourite scents. He takes without asking, ignoring all consequences.
The room is enormous, lit only by a single candelabra in the far corner.
I turn, relieved to find the other half of the bed neatly made and unused, but I want nothing more than to be in my own room back at the manor.
It’s a feeling I never expected to have.
More than my need for familiarity, I want to turn back time and pretend none of this ever happened.
Visions of the ballroom, Laoise bound on the stone floor, and Declan’s face when I left with Odhran, all flash behind my eyelids. This isn’t a dream; it’s a nightmare.
Suddenly, the oversized room is too small, the covers an entrapment.
Everything is too much and all wrong at the same time.
I’m out of bed before I know it. The wooden floor is cold under my feet as I stand silently, studying the room.
Walls of dark emerald green, decorated with golden trimming and an array of lush, tropical greenery fills every crack and crevice as if reclaiming what once was theirs.
Asparagus ferns, monstera deliciosa, peace lily, and ivy give life to the room, an encased forest with wide moss covered windowsills.
Frogs croak and crickets chirp outside. The bed is dark oak and gold, the quilt a shade darker than the walls.
Our manor pales in comparison to this, but even so, I wish I was back in my own room, under my own covers, with my own people on the other side of the door.
I frown, my fingers tracing my chest where the pendant remains pressed to my skin.
It’s the only item I’m wearing that came from last night, unlike the oversized white shirt that resembles a baggy chemise with long sleeves.
I’ve already claimed her. She wears my seal around her neck.
I pluck the necklace from my neck and drop it.
My dress must be here somewhere. Marching to the adjoining bathroom, I find more candles lit on the small tables in the far corner, but there’s no sign of my dress. When I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror, I freeze, pressing my lips together. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?
“Nothing you cannot get out of,” the creature purrs in my mind.
I’m almost relieved to hear its voice. “How?”
“Are you asking for my help, young one?” it taunts me, running a sharp talon down my spine beneath my skin. It’s just as cruel as the man this room belongs to, honey-tongued with fangs.
I shiver at its presence. “Assuming I’m not talking to myself, yes.” My lip curls with exasperation. I can’t believe I’m engaging in my psychosis.
“Now that you cannot poison yourself against me, allow me to introduce myself.” I sense its smile spread, putting sharp teeth on display.
Another shiver runs through me, but I’m not afraid.
What can one fear when there’s nothing left to lose?
“Aed, The Eternal, Lord of the Skies, at your service.” His voice is a pleased rumble, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.
“And you are going to free me. But first, we need a plan.”
“Debatable.” I comb my fingers through my hair, separating the knots to bring some form of order. Maybe I’m crazy after all.
“Long have I waited for someone able to listen. One not blinded by a spell of forgetting. One not reaped before they could act. Your bloodline cursed me to remain in this state, fleshless except for that of my host. Your bloodline is the only one able to free me, and you will do so if you desire my help.” Aed rises with a sinister snarl.
His presence overwhelms me, robbing me of breath.
He’s so strong, so great, I may burst at the seams if he pushes me any further.
My skin tingles as his power reverberates through me.
“Alright,” I whisper. “Promise to give me the guidance I need to find and free my sister, and I’ll help you.” Swallowing reluctantly, my chest tightens.
“I agree to your bargain, young one. Now let us seal it with a geas.”
“What is that?”
“It is a binding that ensures we both uphold our sides of the bargain. In this case, you will be prohibited from mentioning any particulars of our bargain and my presence entirely. You will be obligated to free me, and I will, in turn, be obligated to provide you with guidance and information crucial for your survival in this realm. In essence, it takes away your ability to ignore your promise to me, and mine to you.” Warning bells ring in my ears, but I ignore them, putting my need to find my sister first.
“How do I do this?” My chest tightens at the thought of what I’m doing, but there’s no other way. I need all the help I can get.
“Say you will free me at any cost. In turn, I will find Laoise. You will not be able to speak of our agreement or my pending freedom, and I will advise you on how to find and rescue your sister.”
For a moment, I don’t react. I stand motionless, staring at nothing in particular. “Say you agree,” he says, harsher than before, “and spill your blood upon the mirror.”
“I agree.” My mouth goes dry as I reach for the small silver scissor on the basin’s edge. Flinching, I drag the sharp edge over the pad of my index finger and watch as crimson blooms and drips onto the white porcelain below.
Aed’s grin broadens as I draw a line of bright red blood across my own reflection.
My forearm burns, and a glowing line runs parallel to my veins, a signature signed on a contract, binding and eternal.
My chest constricts, and a wave of energy rolls through me, all while a single word repeats in my mind. Danger… danger… danger.
Depressing the golden handle, I slowly pull the door toward me. The hallway is dark. Quiet. I take a step forward and feel completely exposed. Unlike the bedroom, there’s no sign of light. No candles lit to guide me.
“Which way should I go?” My heart drums in my ears.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Aed answers, retreating lazily into the depths of my mind.
“The help you are.” I clench my jaw, stretching my arms out to the side.
The wall is smooth and cold under my fingertips, like the floor beneath my feet.
Padding forward on my toes, I count my steps.
Twenty-five between my bedroom door and the next.
Thirty-six until the wall curves to the left.
There are no ornaments resting against the walls, no paintings or portraits hanging from them.
Only ridges grace them, and I imagine they’re as rich a gold as the ones in the bedroom.
The warm glow of firelight spills from an open door at the furthest end of the hallway. My heart picks up its pace as I pause, staring at the golden glow flickering across the polished wooden floors.
“Odhran, we need to have a word.” A stern female voice comes from the room ahead, but I can barely hear her from where I stand.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I inhale through my nose.
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! I curse every step I take towards them, but I need more information if I’m to free myself and Laoise.
“I stand with Eadan. What the fuck! What were you thinking, bringing the girl here?” This time it’s a man speaking. Although deep, his voice doesn’t carry the subtle edge of danger the way Odhran’s does. I frown, trying to picture the man talking, but fail.
“I don’t see why it’s your business.” There he is. Danger drenched in silk. My heart flutters as I inch closer, my back against the wall.
“It immediately becomes our business when you publicly challenge your brother, risking all we’ve built here. I assume you have a plan to get us out?” Although clearly belonging to a man, his words are a double-edged whisper.
“He isn’t wrong,” Eadan says as sternly as before.
Glass clinks and furniture scrapes across the floor. “Does it look like I give a flying fuck about my brother?” Odhran’s animosity makes every muscle in my body ache to turn back to my room.
Footsteps, distinct and confident, echo through the open door. I plaster my back against the wall, ignoring the cold and discomfort it brings. Getting caught will outweigh the cold tenfold. I inch closer to see a hearth, large and extravagant, plated in gold and alive with dancing flames.
“Easy. Any louder and the girl will hear you all the way in your room.” A muscular man with shoulder-length auburn hair steps in front of the hearth. I hold my breath, leaning my head back against the wall. This is stupid. I’m being reckless.
“You are right where you should be,” Aed purrs.
“And you’re the one to lecture on civility?” Odhran asks sarcastically. It isn’t like the playful sarcasm I use with Declan. This is different. This has teeth. My need to see their faces drives me from the wall as I lean forward, parting my lips to breathe.
The room has massive dark-oak double doors, both opened wide.
I move to hide behind one, watching them through the slit between its golden hinges.
Tall wooden pillars curve seamlessly into a transparent ceiling.
Moonlight drifts softly from above, lending a bluish tint to the emerald green couch they’re seated on.
Unlike the bedroom, there are no plants, though the branch-like structure of the window frames is akin to being under a canopy of tall trees.
Odhran raises a glass to his lips, swiftly emptying its contents. His hair is still tied back, his sleeves still rolled above his elbows. “I think she has the right to know. It’s clear that this conversation revolves around her presence and my decision to indulge in it.”
“Fine,” Eadan says, crossing one leg over the other, showing off her knee-high leather boots. “The prince won’t like you keeping her.” My heart hammers against my ribs. Keep me? I’m nobody’s pet.
“Then let him come here and collect her himself.” Odhran slams his glass on the table on the far side of the room.
Nausea washes over me, and my head spins.
Collect me. My hands ball into fists, twisting the white material of his oversized shirt in my palms. I’m not a playing card to be owned and collected!
Eadan’s groan sounds more like a feral growl as she pushes off the couch. “Is that really going to be your answer?” she demands. “Really?”
“What do you think?” Odhran answers, pouring himself another drink.
“You’re deliberately being an idiot! You choose to rely solely on your cock for rational thought.
Grow up, Odhran! I know you don’t like serving the crown, but we have to.
There is no other choice! Not if he refuses to release you.
” She aims to walk away, but the brawny man stops her, grabbing her arm.
“Eadan, wait.”
“Get your hands off me, Sloan,” she hisses.
He pays her no heed as he looks toward Odhran. “Just fuck her and get it out of your pipes.” They’re talking about me. Telling him to… I cringe.
Odhran strolls over to them, taking his time with each step as he drinks the contents of his glass before throwing it into the fire beside him.
The flames crackle, rising higher. Odhran lunges forward.
The action is so swift I would’ve missed it if I’d blinked.
One moment, Sloan is in the centre of the room with Eadan’s arm in his hand; the next, he’s being rammed against the wall.
Odhran fists the collar of his jacket in his palms as veins cord his arms. Nails as black as ink pierce the material of Sloan’s shirt, and my sharp intake of breath almost gives me away.
Blood roars behind my ears. This is a mistake. I shouldn’t be here.
“That is the first and last time you attempt to dictate what I do with my pipe.” The vibration of his voice is so deep it practically comes off the walls. I lean closer to the slit in the door, surveying the room on the other side.
Sloan starts to laugh. “Dick-tate.”
Odhran groans, releasing him. When he turns, I glimpse his eyes, as black as night. Unlike mine, his ears aren’t rounded but hold an indiscreet point, adorned with black studs and rings.
“Why do I even bother?” Eadan sighs audibly, exiting the room through a concealed door in the panelled wall.
“What is it then?” the tawny man with the whispering voice asks. His hair is clipped and matches his skin.
“Call it a feeling if you must.” Ligaments dance along Odhran’s jaw when he shoves his hands into his pockets.
Sloan pats him on the shoulder, and he visibly tenses. “Isn’t that sweet? The big bad general has feelings.” Amusement laces his every word.
“Careful, Sloan, don’t make me kennel you like a dog.” He narrows his eyes at Sloan, but then his glare turns into a smile. It takes me a second to realise they’re friends, and this is their banter.
“I hope you realise that your father and brother will be harder on you than before,” the quiet man says, backing away.
“I have a plan. It involves all of you. Meet me here in the morning so we can discuss it together,” Odhran says, taking a seat in front of the fire.
Sloan throws an arm around the other man’s shoulders and steers him toward the concealed exit.
They both leave while I remain staring through the slit between the door and its frame.
I watch as Odhran raises a bottle resting between his feet, pouring himself yet another drink.
He sets the full glass on the floor and drinks straight from the bottle.
I take a step in retreat, ready to call it a night.
“What? You aren’t joining me?” he asks. I turn back to look through the gap. Frowning, I search the room. There’s no one there except for him.
“I’m talking to you, Slìbhìn.” He looks over his shoulder, directly at me. Shit!
My heart lunges into a flat-out sprint so fast it hurts. Heat rushes to my cheeks and burns in my ears. Holding my breath, I pull back my shoulders, muster all of my courage, and step out from behind the door.