Chapter 28 COMPLACENT DECEPTION
Chapter twenty-eight
COMPLACENT DECEPTION
Rian
“You really took over the city?” verified General Oícher once I finished confirming that he and the others were all ready to put our plans into effect. We had discussed the most strategic ways to control the city before I even went to Mionlach, so his question was irksome.
But what agitated me even more was the way his gaze kept straying to Nuala who moved through the war tent to gaze at our maps.
Sometimes her head would tilt as if she was listening to something none of us could hear, so I was sure she was using her Sight.
She was still wearing that gorgeous dress, which exposed far more of her than I was fully comfortable sharing.
And I did not miss any of the eyes that took notice of her uncovered skin.
“I said I would,” I reminded the dyiad sharply enough to make him tear his eyes from her.
His moth wings gave a nervous flutter, which caused their iridescent markings to shimmer.
He wore the same leather breastplate bearing the emblem of the Wild Hunt as all of our soldiers.
But he also wore the white cape of my generals, which had been modified for his wings.
“Of course,” he acknowledged me quickly and ducked his dark head while his feathery antenna bobbed.
“I am personally relieved. The camp was becoming far too restless for my taste. This will give them something to do beyond watch and scouting,” stated General Drakja, one of two tiefling commanders in the war tent.
His skin was a pale lavender grey, his unruly, medium-length curls a dark blackberry colour.
“Agreed,” said General Rajah, Drakja’s female mate with beige-apricot skin and snow-white hair, which she had braided into multiple long plaits.
“There will be absolutely no terrorizing,” I reminded them sternly. “I do not care how bored they have become. I’ll personally deal with any reports of ill behaviour from our soldiers in the city.”
“We will be sure they understand,” Drakja assured me, and the others all nodded in agreement.
“Then you know what to do,” I dismissed them coolly, watching as Oícher glanced once more at Nuala before he took his leave with the others.
“He will not act on his suspicions,” Nuala advised me without turning away from the map she was examining. “He is fully loyal to you. He is merely skeptical of me.”
Ciaran had been flipping his dagger and catching it by the tip of the blade during the meeting, but he stopped abruptly when she spoke. I looked over at him to see that he was also frowning suspiciously at the witch.
“Something on your mind?” I asked, but he shook his head and looked away from her with a sarcastic laugh.
“I have not forgotten your promise to bind me to the whipping post for the orcs. I will not risk you mistaking my concerns for insults,” he smirked.
Nuala spun around abruptly to glare at me in outrage. “You said that?” she demanded, and I rolled my eyes at both of their dramatics.
“Speak without fear of consequences,” I sighed.
Ciaran was happy to capitalize on the opportunity and quickly sheathed his blade. He turned to face me directly as if prepared to go to battle with me.
“Are we really not going to talk about what happened in the city?” he demanded, shooting another glance at Nuala who had also turned to face him. “She is not only immune to your shadows. She can use them, Rian!”
I had wanted to have this conversation with Nuala in private first, but it was imperative that we moved quickly to secure the city before the council could ready defenses.
My goal continued to be preserving as many fey lives as we could to maintain the magic in Ahnnaòin.
And that meant we had to conquer the city without any bloodshed.
But Ciaran had been hammering relentlessly at my mental shields ever since Nuala produced my power.
There was only so long he would allow me to put him off before he did something impulsive that forced me to punish him.
And the reality was that I could not rightly blame him for his concerns; nor could I continue to let Nuala deflect me.
So I turned with hesitant expectation toward my Seer who seemed even more frustrated with me than ever.
“I already explained, Rian. You refuse to believe me,” she insisted.
“What did you tell him exactly?” Ciaran demanded.
“Do not mistake an invitation for you to speak freely to me as an excuse to speak harshly to her,” I warned.
Ciaran merely raised his brows and looked… amused. The expression was so unexpected that it made me stop and frown at him in sudden suspicion.
“Why are you so calm?” I asked, which only made him tilt his head back and laugh at me.
“You really are a stubborn prick sometimes, Rian. I bet she did tell you, but you continue to ignore the fact she is obviously your mate.”
His words took me so off guard that I nearly tripped over my own feet when I tried to step backward.
“That is absurd,” I said dismissively once I’d regained my composure. I wanted to glance over at Nuala to see her reaction to this ludicrous claim, but I refrained.
“What is absurd is the fact that you have not figured this out for yourself yet,” Ciaran insisted. “Or she’s right, and you have been intentionally obtuse about it.”
“I thought she must be casting some kind of a spell to syphon his power,” Ornella offered an alternative.
“That was also my first fear,” Ciaran admitted with a glance at where Nuala still stood silently behind me.
“But?” Ornella prompted him.
Ciaran was too shrewd not to require absolute proof before he decided something was the truth; so I knew he would have already compiled evidence of his suspicions. Evidence that I suddenly found myself very disinterested in hearing about.
“Can we discuss this—” I tried to intervene.
“It was Darragh who first suspected it,” Ciaran spoke over me easily.
“Of course it was,” I muttered, disheartened by the fact that even the demidragon had come to this conclusion.
“He suggested the possibility after your shields were obliterated by a mere kiss,” he finished.
There was stunned silence during which I glowered at him in disbelief that he would reveal that moment of my weakness to the females.
“Wow! Must have been a good kiss!” Ornella smirked after a moment.
“Our suspicions were confirmed when she produced your shadows,” Ciaran declared as if resting his case.
“You know it is impossible. Nuala is mortal. We could not possibly have shared our first breath,” I repeated the logic that had been keeping me sane ever since the dream when I first laid eyes on Nuala. I tried to speak calmly, but my voice still betrayed a hint of frantic denial.
“She is unharmed by your shadows, she can borrow your strength, and she uses your magic,” Ciaran listed. “Not to mention the fact that you asked her permission before you allowed Ornella to touch you. Or the irrational way that you defend her—”
“So I will not permit anyone to speak to her unkindly, therefore she must be my mate?” I scoffed.
“You just allowed her to kill Geera simply because the female dared to touch you. In a room full of witnesses! Then you nearly took Oícher’s head off for looking at her too much.
You do not let anyone who is not a rider close to you, Rian, not even after years of service, and yet you have not thought twice about keeping her in your yurt.
You have trusted her from the very beginning.
Innately. Sweet Elements! I cannot really be the only one who has realized that she must be dreíocha!
” he exclaimed finally, losing his patience.
“Are you not?” he added more calmly as he turned to look at Nuala.
Dreíocha. No. No, no, no, no…
I finally forced myself to turn and look at Nuala with a desperate hope that she would dispel his theory, but she merely stared back at me.
Her eyes darted between mine as if she were reading my emotions or perhaps sensing what would happen next.
And then I watched her heart shatter across her face as she perceived something of my impending rejection.
Tears seeped into her lower lashes, and her chin quivered slightly before she lifted it with as much dignity as she could muster before me.
“I am,” she finally confirmed.
I am, she said so simply, as if she had not shattered my entire world. She was dreíocha…
My heart seemed to sink into my stomach. I felt sick as the reality that I had done my best to ignore and repress crashed over me ruthlessly.
“What is dreíocha?” asked Ornella in confusion.
“Descendants of Inanna,” Ciaran clarified.
“You mean Dowrra? I heard of those in Uile Breithà!” Ornella informed us with astonishment. “So that is why you said you two were inevitable,” she added to Nuala.
Inevitable. Nuala believed that a relationship between us was inevitable.
And why would she not? According to a courtesan in Lystby, dreíocha could ensnare any male of their choosing in order to use his strength and magic and to share in his immortality.
But I also recalled her saying they needed proximity to their target, which meant there might still be a chance to escape Nuala’s thrall.
Neither Ciaran nor I had heard of dreíocha before that night because our people did not have tales about such creatures.
Which I realized now was why my uncle had not known what to make of Nuala.
I wanted to tell myself it was why I had not thought of it either, but I knew deep down I’d always suspected something different about her.
Something that I had never wanted to have confirmed when Nuala was so useful to me.
I needed her Sight to help me deal with the Fuath, Aoibheal, and the Vale King.
And she would undoubtedly prove valuable when it came time to bring war to Uile Breithà as well.