Chapter 37
“You never know where you’ll find a mate.”
— A Seelie Guide to Matrimony
No matter how many times I blink my eyes, the darkness does not ease and the man in front of me does not vanish. What the hell is my ex doing all the way down here?
“Nia?” Nolan wheezes, clutching his side.
He’s hurt . . .
I fall down next to him, a reflex from before. Back when he was mine. When I would’ve done anything for him.
He might no longer be mine to care about, but that doesn’t mean I want him to be in pain. Unless I’m the one inflicting it.
His face, pale as milk, twists with a grimace. “How are you alive? John said you fell off the bridge. What the hell are you doing in this forsaken place?”
Not dead . . . yet. “We can discuss that later.” When we’re all safely back in Rosehill. “Where are you hurt?”
“I think . . . they broke . . . my ribs.”
Bloody Unseelie . . .
“Let me see.” His hands fall away, and I carefully unfasten the hidden straps of his guard uniform.
Hold on. Why is he wearing a uniform when he was suspended?
That’s not important. What’s important is healing him and finding a way to escape this wretched village.
Sure enough, a mottled bruise stretches from his armpit to his hip. If his ribs aren’t broken, they’re sure as hell close to it. If only I had healing water.
“How did you get here?”
“The Unseelie attacked at dusk,” Nolan grits out as I replace his leathers, leaving the straps unfastened so they don’t add pressure to his sore ribs. “Took Joseph and me.” He nods to the other man wearing a guard’s uniform. “I told you they weren’t to be trusted.”
“These Unseelie aren’t part of Everett’s clan.”
From the dark look on Nolan’s face, it appears the distinction doesn’t matter. Who am I trying to convince, anyway? He’s always hated the Unseelie, and nothing I say is going to change that. Especially now that we’re being held captive in one of their cells.
“You’re wearing your leathers.” He always looked handsome in uniform. I remember the day he received his first set, back when he was assigned to guard the prince.
How times have changed.
He nods. “I spoke with the general about being reinstated. He agreed on a trial period.” Wincing, Nolan shifts his weight, his hand trembling as he returns his palm to his side. “Doubt he’ll keep me on after this.”
Why not? This isn’t Nolan’s fault.
The rest of the men in the cavern watch us through wary eyes.
“Who are these other fae?” I don’t recognize any of their faces, but they’re all Seelie.
The two closest are dressed in fine trousers and white shirts smeared with blood.
The third wears a shirt of sky-blue linen that matches his eyes and hair.
He appears to be in the best shape of the lot, with only a few speckles of blood on his collar and a split bottom lip.
“The architects who designed the new bridge,” Nolan says. “Looks like the Unseelie aren’t happy about that either.”
They’re not the same fae, I want to scream.
“Are any of you badly wounded?”
The trio of architects exchange looks before the one in blue responds. “Just a few scratches, Miss—?”
“Nia. Just call me Nia. Can you tell me what happened to you?”
The blue-haired man gestures toward the one with dark bronze curls. “Reese here was concerned with the design for the bridge’s braces, so Kaleb and I agreed to meet him at the site early to discuss. When I got there, someone struck me on the head.” He rubs the back of his skull with a grimace.
“Me as well,” Reese says.
“And me,” chimes the third, Kaleb. He’s younger than the others by the looks of it, with a few wisps of peach fuzz clinging to his round chin.
“We woke up in this room with no recollection of how we got here,” the blue-haired man finishes.
I knew there was something off with these women. I bloody well knew it. “Has anyone tended your wounds?”
“No. A wrinkly old woman checked us over but never brought anything to ease the pain.”
The Unseelie clearly have access to healing water—they healed Maddox right up without batting an eye. Why wouldn’t they give some to these men?
Probably because they’re afraid of being overpowered.
Not that any of these men could take down an Unseelie on their own. Together, though . . .
What were the Unseelie thinking? Why would they scale the cliffs just to attack a few architects? Are they really that unhappy about the bridge? If that was the case, they could’ve just burned it.
They also could’ve murdered these men. Instead, they kidnapped them.
I must be missing something.
Nolan’s clammy hand wraps around mine. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Gods, Nia. When I found out you died all I could think about was how terribly I treated you.” He laces our fingers together, squeezing tightly. “I’ve missed you so bloody much.”
Funny how it took my death for him to have such a revelation.
Not that it matters now.
What we had is a thing of the past. Maddox is my future—assuming I ever see him again.
No. I’ll not let my mind run away into the shadows.
Maddox and I have chosen each other, and we will find our way back.
But first, I need to find a way to get these men out of this cavern and for all of us to escape this twisted village.
I extricate my hand from Nolan’s, ignoring his frown. “You don’t have any weapons, do you?”
Nolan’s dark brown curls wobble when he shakes his head. “They took my sword and dagger before they threw me in here.”
“Took mine too,” the other guard says when I glance over at him.
That’s not a surprise. These men are prisoners; the Unseelie wouldn’t leave them with a way to defend themselves. Still, I had to ask in case they managed to smuggle a blade or two between them.
Think, Nia. Think.
“Do any of you know why they’re keeping you in here?” If we knew that, perhaps we could figure out a way to negotiate for our release.
“Camden speaks some Unseelie,” Kaleb says. “He thinks . . .” The young lad’s face turns bright pink.
Camden must be the blue-haired one.
“What does Camden think?” I ask the man himself, since Kaleb seems to be having difficulty finding his words.
Blowing out a breath, Camden stretches his hands over his bent knees and says, “I think they’re searching for mates.”