Chapter 53 – Ayer
AYER
Ishould already be in bed.
The men are still up, drinking, but when a few of them found their song, I decided it was as good a time as any to go double check the fort’s defenses.
I should be celebrating too.
I should be happy.
We took out both a mystery fae military squadron and a host of fae raiders all in the same day. And the men are still riding the high of taking Rosecliff and freeing Theo, and it’s their first chance to really celebrate safely. All threats tonight are outside the walls of Fort Firelle.
I could be drunk, or have my cock half buried in one of the many girls who offered already tonight, but no.
The irritation burning under my skin hasn’t lessened with either a full stomach or even after a few rounds of Daekhari whiskey.
My thoughts keep drifting back to two stones-cursed green eyes.
Reckless. Stubborn. And so godsdamned infuriating. She jumped into a raging river just to get away from me. Nearly drowned for her efforts.
Foolish. Brash. Hard-headed—
I round the corner, prowling for the stairwell leading up to my chambers when I go still, tilting my head toward the dark corner up ahead.
Did I just…?
Listening intently, my hand slides over my shoulder to my back on instinct, gripping the hilt of my sword, and I take a step further down the hall, moving away from the stairwell that leads up to my waiting bed.
Several beats pass, and I hear nothing but drunken laughter echoing in from the dining hall behind me.
I could’ve sworn I heard…
Shaking the thought away, I release my sword. Fuck, you need sleep.
She’s locked in an iron cage. Well guarded. She couldn’t possibly escape.
I just need a couple of hours’ peace from having to watch her godsdamned royal ass every second of the day.
Still… Guilt nags at me for what I’ve done—what I said.
The look she gave me when they’d dragged her away… Betrayal.
It’s safe to say whatever temporary truce we struck on our way back from the river is dead, buried, and pushing up fucking daisies.
I work my jaw as I linger in the hallway, looking to the stairs that lead up to bed and then back to the corner up ahead. The corridor I know leads down to the dungeon cells.
I take one step, and then another—moving toward the shadowed corner, as if drawn by some invisible force.
I’ve got my eye on the corner, but I’m still completely unprepared when a certain princess comes tearing around it at full speed.
She crashes into me with such force I almost lose my footing.
Especially when I have to lunge to catch her before she hits the ground, losing her balance from both the impact and the slippery marble floor below.
My hand closes around her arm, hauling her back to her feet.
Rowan.
Her green eyes widen as she takes me in. And for half a second, I just stare back. Until my initial shock at seeing her fades, and rage flames in its place. I tighten my grip, dragging her closer to me as I zero in on the Sitari princess.
I expect her to resist, but her body goes rigid, and she becomes utterly still in my grasp. My brow furrows as I look down at her. She’s not fighting me. Rowan always fights.
“You—”
The look I catch in those pine green eyes of hers stays my tongue.
A shout sounds from around the corner, pulling my attention up. Fingernails dig into my arms, gripping tighter, and my gaze drops immediately back to Rowan as a violent tremble rips through her.
Fear.
That’s fear I see shining in her eyes.
Rowan’s not afraid of me. To some degree—maybe… yes, and oh, how I wish she would fear me more. Life would be so much easier if she did. But yet, here she is, looking up at me, nearly white as a ghost, her fingers digging into me as if afraid I’ll let go.
Is she afraid of being punished?
She was running.
I warned her. I told her what would happen if she tried to run away.
Is that what’s got her so terrified? I try studying her face, but the noise around the corner grows louder, footsteps approaching.
Likely the guards from the dungeons catching up to her.
How in the hells did she get past them in the first place?
“Did you really think you could run? What did I tell you would happen if you—”
“Please,” she whispers, shaking now in my grip, only clinging tighter to me as the footsteps draw closer.
I look into her eyes, mine narrowing. I have to wonder if this is all just a new act of hers. She’s smart—clever, really—and if she’s trying to trick me, trying to get out of whatever punishment I’m about to dole out by playing on my emotions…
My mouth opens, but I don’t have time to reply because, in the next second, Riggs bursts from the same corner Rowan just did.
I stiffen, and Rowan nearly catches me off guard, lunging forward, taking advantage of the distraction and trying desperately to break free of my grip. But my hold on her is firm. She’s not going anywhere.
I yank her closer, tearing my gaze off her pale face to address my corporal’s sudden appearance.
“Captain,” Riggs wheezes, fighting to catch his breath, nearly doubling over with his efforts.
“Thank the twelve moons, you’ve caught her.
” He waves his hand weakly in Rowan’s direction, rage in his beady little eyes.
“She—” heave, “escaped, and I was—” heave, “I was in pursuit.” He clears his throat, attempting to straighten his shoulders.
“I was just about to sound the alarm,” he adds with a curt nod at me.
Is that nerves I sense in his tone?
I’m aware of Hayes’ presence at my back, though he stays silent, surveying the scene.
As do I. I take in the sight of my corporal: red-faced and bleeding profusely from a fresh cut to his brow. He reaches out a hand, trying to grab hold of Rowan, but the princess cringes away from him, seeking safety in my chest.
“Allow me to take her off your hands, sir, so you may enjoy the rest of your evening in peace.” Riggs’ eyes darken as he glares at Rowan. “I’ll see that she’s properly restrained and punished.” A dark gleam shines in his eyes, and my jaw tightens.
Rowan flinches. It’s subtle. But I felt it. I’m sure I did.
She shifts in my grip, trying again to pull away—but this time from him. Not me.
My eyes flick between them, but it is the princess who holds my attention.
The dress Hari gave her back at the inn is gone. Torn in places, her corset and shift are all she wears, as if someone attempted to rip them off. Blood runs in streaks down her arm. Bright red smears her cheek as well, and her lower lip is split.
While Rowan is crafty and clever, there is no way she could have gotten out of that iron cell, unless... My gaze hardens as something dark coils in my chest. Unless someone had gone in there.
My grip on Rowan’s arm tightens, and without warning, I haul her backward, shoving her behind me.
“Take her.” I thrust the princess into Hayes’ hold, reluctantly releasing her arm as I hand her over to my second.
“Put her in my room,” I order, my voice cold and controlled. “And make sure she stays there.” I don’t look back, my gaze icing over as I keep it fixed on Riggs. “I’ll deal with her later.”
I hear them both moving down the hall, listening to the sounds of their footsteps disappearing up the stairwell before I take even a single step toward Riggs.
He swallows hard, taking a couple of steps away from me.
“You went into my cell,” I say flatly. It’s not a question.
Riggs’ eyes dart around, searching for an exit before he answers. “Captain, she— I can explain—”
I hit him.
One second he’s talking, and the next, my fist is slamming into him so hard his face snaps to the side. He stumbles, yet he stays on his feet.
“I thought we’d been over this,” I say, closing in on him, my voice low and lethal. “You don’t touch what’s mine.”
I hit him again.
Riggs takes the hit, spitting bloody saliva onto the marble floor, a sneer on his lips. “She’s a faerie,” he snarls, his eyes red. “Or have you forgotten—”
I hit him again.
This time he goes down, but I’m already after him, hitting him once more, then hauling him up by his leather armour and slamming him into the stone wall before glaring down at him.
The fucker laughs; blood coats his face.
“She’s a prisoner, fae filth,” he spits at me. “She deserves—”
His words cut off when my fist lands in his ribs. Once, twice, three times.
Riggs coughs hard, doubled over, still on his feet solely because of the grip I have on him.
Voices echo as men spill out into the hall upon hearing the commotion, but no one moves to stop me.
“I know what you were trying to do,” I growl as my mind flashes to Rowan’s torn dress, the blood on her lip, and the fear in her eyes.
Riggs recovers enough to straighten up to look at me, wiping blood from his mouth while studying my face—seeing the rage in my eyes—and yet he still smiles.
“Are you really getting sentimental over a faerie? You, of all people? You remember what her brother did, right?” He eyes me with contempt, clicking his tongue.
“And yet you protect the sister of the prince who put a blade through Ridge’s heart?
” His words land like a punch. “What would Theo think?”
Something in me goes cold. Darkness gathers at the edges of my vision as I seize Riggs’ armour and drive him back against the wall.
“Theo gave her to me. She’s mine to keep. Mine to question. And mine to do whatever the fuck I want with until I decide otherwise—to fuck, if I so choose. Her life belongs to me!”
The hall is quiet, and I turn my head slightly, raising my voice to address the lot of them. “The Sitari princess belongs to me. If anyone touches a single hair on her head,” my eyes darken, a lethal undertone in my voice, “they die.”
I slam the back of Riggs’ skull into the wall one more time to really drive home my point.
“Got it?”
But Riggs doesn’t know when to quit.
“You greedy bastard, you just want her all to yourself,” he spits venomously up at me.
Something snaps deep within, and I feel my eyes go entirely black.
I swing on him again, but this time… I don’t hold back.
Riggs drops to the ground, knocked clean out.
“Yeah, I do,” I growl, looking over his unconscious body. “And I’ll bury anyone who thinks they can take her from me.”
I leave him there, then stalk off through the gathered crowd of both his men and mine, tightening my fists to keep from circling back around to strangle him.
“Put him in a cell.” I growl the order to Eli and Callum, knowing they’re sober. “I’ll deal with him later.”
A curt nod from Eli assures me they’ll take care of it.
I head upstairs. I’d gone too hard—too fast—on Riggs. He passed out before I’d gotten the chance to really question him about what he’d done. My questions still require answers, and like it or not, Rowan’s going to give them to me.
“Step aside, Hayes.” My tone comes out harsher than I intend. I force a slow breath, trying to cage the anger simmering just under my skin.
Hayes doesn’t budge. His gaze catches on my face, a crease forming between his brows. “Captain...”
“Move.”
His jaw tightens, and he remains where he is, studying my eyes. “Clear your head first.”
I scrub a hand across my eyes, blinking hard until the darkness recedes from the edges of my vision. “I’m fine.”
Hayes eyes me warily, hesitating for only a few more seconds, then dips his chin before vacating his post outside my door.
I give him a clear nod of dismissal, waiting to fully twist the knob until he disappears into his own room down the hall. I take a deep breath, steadying my nerves, and further tamp down my temper before stepping into the room.
My accommodations are modest, yet I don’t see Rowan immediately when I enter.
The bed sits untouched, the chair by the hearth—empty. My jaw clenches as I do a quick scan of the room, my eyes catching on the tiniest movement in the far corner.
Rowan pushes herself up from the floor where she’d been curled into herself, nearly hidden behind the chair.
One good look at her and all the rage and fire for answers drains out of me.
Her skin is ghost-white, the dim lighting accentuating the dark circles ringing her eyes.
Bruises, fresh and purple, bloom along her jaw, while her eyes are rimmed red.
There’s a hollowness in that pine green I’ve never seen before.
She’s still wearing her ripped, damp clothes, and when she notices me staring, she hurriedly pulls up the torn shoulder of her shift, covering up the exposed skin.
The tremor running through her at the same time doesn’t go unnoticed.
Still, she forces herself to her feet, rolling her shoulders back and lifting her chin until she’s looking me square in the eye.
Beneath a familiar spark of defiance, she buries the fear I just saw.
Unexpectedly, the sight of it steadies something in me.
But even her stubbornness can’t disguise the bone-deep exhaustion etched across her face.
I release a breath, holding her gaze while running a hand through my hair, wondering what the fuck to do with her now.