12. THE UNWELCOME PARTY
Roirdan, Auren, and I landed rather roughly on the patio of The Keep, next to Remic and Morah. Across the patio, Maeson landed and stumbled to the edge, grasping the waist-high stone wall, clearly exhausted from the work she had done on Fallon.
Roirdan groaned and collapsed onto the ground next to me, clutching his forearm.
“Shit,” I cursed under my breath as I yanked the cloth away from my face.
I dropped to my knees and pushed Roirdan’s sleeve up. The veins in his arm had turned black around the bite mark, and whatever substance had penetrated his skin looked to be slowly spreading.
“Morah,” I called out, “what were those creatures your father summoned?”
She slid over to us, tossing her face covering aside and grabbing Roirdan’s arm. He hissed in pain. “I don’t know, I’ve never seen anything like them in Benmoor before,” she said.
“Where’s Fallon? And Silas?” Auren asked, concern flaring in her voice. She scrambled to her feet, swaying as she looked around.
“I had them in my grasp just a moment ago . . .” Morah answered, turning to search.
Auren clambered to the patio’s edge and peered down the mountain. “What if they—” She stopped herself mid-sentence as she caught sight of something down the cliff.
Remic stalked to her side to see what she was looking at.
“Niall . . .” The concern in her voice had me rising and going to her side as well. I followed her stare to the ancient steps that led up to The Keep.
The first High Lord that ruled this territory carved out The Keep from the mountainside with a far more ominous touch.
Its facade was said to be threatening. Unapproachable.
Far different from what stood today. The stairway was built along with it as a safeguard.
Everyone who wished to gain access to The Keep suffered the long climb.
Back then, the ruling family didn’t allow any porting within a half mile of this place.
That had changed when Evander came into power.
Now, the stairs served as a rite of passage for those seeking a seat on my council, and it provided a way to access The Keep for those that were unable to port to it—having never been here.
To me, they were a stark reminder of our history and a good defense strategy.
They allowed me to see who was coming long before they arrived, something I would have praised the founding High Lord for implementing, if I could.
Remic and I stared as Silas steadily climbed the steps, carrying Fallon’s limp body.
“Help them!” Auren cried out.
I glanced at Remic. I knew my brother well, and I could tell when he was uncomfortable. He wouldn’t be porting Silas up here. Not a chance.
Dionachs had a strange dynamic amongst their kind.
At first glance, one might call it jealousy.
Whether it was a seniority thing, or a status thing, I didn’t know.
But I had a feeling Remic’s hesitation had a lot to do with both.
Not to mention that he had already begun forming some sort of bond with Auren.
That much was clear when I saw how the two of them regarded each other in my prison cell.
Which meant it was up to me to port the damn bastard up here myself.
Silas had called my mate “his” back in Benmoor, and that was enough to set me on edge, despite where his allegiances may lie.
Auren looked seconds away from porting down there to retrieve Silas and Fallon herself, so I finally relented, and vanished.
When I materialized a few steps above Silas, he startled, nearly losing his footing as he stumbled backward. I snagged him by the collar of his shirt as his wings flared to steady himself. He opened his mouth, most likely to thank me, but I cut him off.
“Not a word,” I said as I shifted my grip to his elbow and tugged him through space.
We appeared on the patio, and Auren was instantly there, wearing a look of serious concern.
Silas passed Fallon to Remic, who carried him into The Keep. Morah hurried after them while Maeson took up Morah’s vacated spot next to Roirdan and assessed his wound, tracing her fingertips up the black veins.
“This isn’t good,” she said worriedly.
Remic returned and knelt to pick Roirdan up. “They will be with the healers,” he informed us.
“Gently,” Maeson instructed. She trotted along at Remic’s side, sifting through her satchel as she moved, until they disappeared behind the doors.
Silence fell upon the patio where Silas, Auren, and I now stood.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” Silas said quietly. He turned to address me directly. “My name is—”
“I know who you are,” I said, cutting him off once again. I vaguely gestured to his wings that he kept loosely open behind him.
Silas blinked. “I’m afraid you don’t.”
Remic ported back to Auren’s side, wings tucked in tightly as he stared Silas down. Yes, my brother had certainly chosen Auren as his to protect—which didn’t bother me in the slightest, because I knew Remic, and I trusted him.
I also knew that his choice to protect her was not the same as him trying to claim her like this other male was. She was my mate, and I would be the only one doing the claiming.
I raised a brow at the newest Dionach.
His expression remained unchanged. “Auren is—”
“If you say she’s yours again, you can kiss your pretty little wings goodbye and watch them turn to ash on the wind.” I twirled a piece of Auren’s hair around my finger as the threat slid off my tongue. Then, I hiked a brow, awaiting Silas’s next choice of words.
“You must be her mate, then,” Silas stated, finally recognizing where my tone was coming from.
I nodded firmly.
Good. He’s a fast learner.
“You were saying?” I pressed.
Silas’s mouth remained a tight line as he said, “She is my Dionam.”
My heart jolted at his proclamation.
One would think that my mate having a Dionach—a guardian who was assigned to her by the gods and the fates—would be something that would ease my worries.
Yet I found myself skeptical and . . . fucking bitter.
Not to mention the effects of the mating bond were still fresh, and my instincts wanted me to keep Auren away from any other male, especially one who sought her for himself.
All replies were lost on me as I warred with my emotions. So, I just stood there, in silence.
Thankfully, Remic spoke up. “Who gives you the authority to say so?”
“My wardeness, Nivelle. She received the summons from Torin just a few months before the king’s tournament in Galenagh.”
Auren’s eyes widened. “So, you were there for my protection?”
“Yes, as the fates willed it,” he answered.
“Though, I didn’t know it was you until I saw you enter the courtyard at the castle.
Even then, I wasn’t completely sure I believed it.
But when you took that hit to your face, and I watched you fall to your knees, there was no doubt.
It took everything I had not to blow my cover and break every bone in that man’s body for laying a hand on you. ”
I stiffened. Hearing of someone hurting my mate was kindling to the fire that was raging inside me.
It had been raging since Ramil played his damned mind games with me.
But I shook my head and willed my shadows to stay tucked away .
. . for now. I couldn’t keep my hands from Auren though.
I needed to feel her. My palm found the small of her back, and she settled into my touch, grounding me with the movement.
She studied Silas, and if I knew her, a dozen questions were swirling in her mind. Sure enough, she asked another. “Is that why you yielded to me? Because you didn’t want to hurt me?”
“Yes. I could never hurt you, nor would I ever want to. You are my charge.”
I watched the Dionach carefully, trying to get a read on him, all while fighting back the urge to toss him over the edge of the patio to see just how well his wings worked.
He was every bit as tall as Remic, but with slightly broader shoulders and a bit more bulk.
Where Remic looked like the striking sting of death, Silas was the final blaze of its glory.
Seeing the two of them cross swords would probably be akin to watching the gods in a duel.
“And how, exactly, did you know I would be at the tournament?” Auren pressed.
“I didn’t, actually. You see, each Dionach has a wardeness—a witch who guides us to our destinies.
They receive their information directly from the witch goddess, Torin.
Then, they relay the information and point us in the right direction to find whomever it is we’re fated to protect.
But I had nothing to go by except your name and why I was to protect you. ”
She slowly nodded, contemplating. “You said you received your summons just a few months before the king’s tournament.”
His brows bunched together. “That’s right.”
“If you knew my name, and you had your summons beforehand, why didn’t you just come and find me?”
Silas tilted his head, seemingly baffled by all of her questions.
I, on the other hand, was delighted by her interrogation.
“Because parading around Belthria and asking everyone if they knew where to find Auren Everton would have garnered far too much attention for both of us. And I knew that, regardless, the fates would put you in my path eventually. They guide everything, including what we do until we find our Dionam.” He glanced up at Remic, as if to look for some sort of agreement or endorsement, but another one of Auren’s questions pulled his attention back to her.
“So, what did you do in the meantime?”
“We’re taught to keep ourselves glamoured. To blend in and keep a low profile. So, I hid my identity, and lived my life in the human realm for a bit. No one knew I was any different, and that’s the way it’s supposed to be, because life must still go on as planned for everyone else.”
“What do you mean?”