Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

“ I ris!”

Alaric’s concerned face fills my vision, and in seconds, he is gripping me by the tops of my arms. His green eyes appear to glow with a fiery rage that is only muted by his concern for me. Checking me over from head to toe, he seems to be ensuring that I really am safe and not a dream.

“Ancestors above, I thought I had lost you.” The words are muttered, and I get the impression he is talking to himself. Before I can question it, though, I am in his arms and pressed against his chest.

This seems like an extreme reaction for someone who cares nothing for me. Sure, he is tasked with keeping me safe, but this is beyond that, his own emotions showing through. Honestly, I am so overwhelmed by what just happened that I am struggling to process this. What changed to make him feel so connected to me, or was it just the prospect of me dying that shocked him into realisation? Humans are much easier to kill than fae, after all.

Releasing me from his embrace, he holds onto my shoulders and steps back, surveying me once more. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” His eyes catch on my torn clothes and the way I hold my arm, my burnt palm beginning to make its presence known now that I am not in immediate danger.

His whole body seems to stiffen as he realises I am injured, a snarl rumbling from his chest. “I swear, if Ciaran so much as laid a finger on you, I am going to tear this world apart until I find him.”

“Alaric, stop.” Pressing my right hand against his chest, I wait for him to meet my gaze. “I’m hurt, but I am okay. Ciaran saved me from the fire.”

Why am I defending the male who was about to abduct me? He did hurt me with the brambles, but I am sure a fae as powerful as him could have done far worse. Any of those creatures with him could have dragged me into the woods, but he protected me. I don’t want any more fighting, and Alaric could start a war if he marched into Unseelie territory and began hunting Ciaran.

“Only because he needs you to break their curse.”

His harsh words feel like a slap to the face, even though in the back of my mind it was something I had already been thinking.

Sensing my distress, he takes my hand from his chest and squeezes it in comfort. “Never mistake any of their actions as kindness. They do not know how to feel it. Anything they do is self-serving, do not forget that.” Kindness lines his eyes, his explanation gentler than his initial comment. He seems to be holding himself back from saying something, the words on the tip of his tongue. “Are you really okay? He didn’t… do anything to you?”

“No,” I reply, vehemently rejecting the prospect of what he is suggesting. “He rescued me. That is all.”

His implications were clear. The very idea that Ciaran might try to force himself on me is abhorrent, and although I know he is villainous, my heart tells me that he would never do that. Maybe I am na?ve in thinking this. I certainly have no evidence to prove otherwise, only this surety in my gut. Ciaran easily could have hurt or manhandled me, but he didn’t. In fact, he reached out to steady me when I stumbled. I will not tell Alaric about the brambles that Ciaran used to hold me in place, knowing it will only relight his anger.

Alaric releases my hand and shifts his weight from foot to foot, his posture changing as he clutches his hands behind his back. “Iris, I humbly apologise. I promised you would be safe here, and you were injured.” He is formal as he apologies, staring ahead, becoming someone I do not recognise. “The Unseelie must have cast a spell so we could not see that this side of the inn was burning,” he explains, his mouth tightening in a show of anger that he tries to hold back. “It was too late for me to reach you once I realised we were being fooled. That is when the Unseelie attacked.” He pauses, his shoulders falling forward as he rubs a hand across his face.

I was able to pinpoint the moment he switched from his formal apology to this exhausted, frustrated fae before me. Honestly, I prefer the latter. He is obviously feeling the pressure of keeping me safe and getting me to his people, and the fact I was injured on his watch is clearly playing on his mind.

Gritting his teeth, he looks as though he wants to say something, but he stops himself with a quiet snarl and rough shake of his head. His green eyes flash with a barely contained emotion that I cannot quite identify. When he finally meets my gaze, he seems determined, reaching out and placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Know that I would have walked through the fire to get to you.”

This is not what I was expecting him to say, and those foolish butterflies return, making me feel giddy. It is such a romantic notion that he would come for me no matter the risk to himself. No , I tell myself fiercely. He is only here to keep his people safe. Do not confuse his actions for care .

Smiling slightly, I go to shrug my shoulders but wince at the pain in both. “Because you need to keep me safe from the Unseelie.” I don’t know why I feel the need to clarify, but I cannot help myself.

A contemplative look transforms his face. “No, not just for that reason. This goes further than the curse now, and I think you know that too.” Closing that small gap between us, he takes my unburnt hand in his once more, running his thumb over my soft skin. My breath catches in my throat as I stare at our joined hands. Does he feel the electric sensation between us when we touch, or am I imagining it?

“I could feel you.” It’s a whispered confession, his eyes flicking up to mine, seeming almost timid. “Your panic is what helped me see through the spell, shattering the illusion. Only then could I see the fire.” He shakes his head in self-deprecation. “When I realised what was happening and you were in danger, I thought my heart was going to stop beating. The spirit hounds must have realised, as they chose that very moment to attack. It was chaos. Those creatures are evil and a prime example of what the Unseelie Court is like. They breed the hounds to be as vicious as possible.”

He must be talking about those dog-like creatures that were dripping darkness around them. They were horrifying, and even thinking of them now sends a shudder down my spine.

“I was fighting my way to you, and the one thing that kept me going was that I could still feel you, so I knew you were alive.” He is so earnest that it is impossible not to believe him despite the fact that what he is saying is impossible. How could he, a fae, be able to feel me in that way?

“This feeling, this realisation, it awoke me,” he continues. “I see you, Iris, for everything you are and everything you will be. We have been placed in each other’s path for a reason.” He reaches out and brushes his fingers over my cheek, our eyes meeting in a tender moment of understanding.

I must be dreaming, or perhaps I hit my head when I was escaping the building, because this cannot be real. While I do not fully understand what is happening here, I can feel his intentions towards me.

My head feels strange, a wave of dizziness washing over me. “I—”

“Alaric! Iris!” Blaise shouts, his voice reaching us half a second before he appears around the burnt side of the building. As soon as he spots us, he curses and makes a gesture that I assume is a prayer, thanking the ancestors as he runs over to us with his supernatural speed. “Are you okay?” Walking around me in a tight circle, Blaise talks non-stop as he examines me. “I tried to get to you, but I was attacked by a redcap. Nasty fucking creatures. It took me a while to fight it off, and I got this for my troubles.”

He gestures to his arm, which hangs heavily at his side, and I notice that he is bleeding. Gasping in shock, I recoil from the injury. How did I not notice this immediately? The wound looks nasty, the skin around the edges raw and ragged. The creature clearly ripped into Blaise’s arm several times, tearing and mangling the flesh. The most worrying aspect about it, though, is the fact that it is seeping a greenish puss. It looks infected, and the way he holds it gingerly at his side suggests it is causing him pain. Fae healing is supposed to be far superior to a human’s. In fact, I have heard stories of cuts healing before your very eyes, leaving no trace behind. Why is Blaise not healing? I assumed that the sweat lining his brow was from putting out the fire, but I realise now that his wound is probably causing it, his complexion pale.

“Blaise, you are injured. The redcap’s bite is poisonous. We need to treat that.” Alaric looks concerned, his brows furrowed as he examines the wound on his friend’s arm.

Hissing with pain, Blaise pulls away, waving his friend off with his other arm. “We are not that far from court now. I shall get it looked at by the healers there. A little bit of poison isn’t going to kill me.” He smirks like usual, except his expression is tight, unable to hide his pain.

Alaric does not look happy about this, but he cannot deny that his friend is right. He looks up from the wound and meets Blaise’s gaze. “We need to leave and get to safe territory. Can you both ride?”

I am a little singed, my chest and throat are abused from the smoke, my previously dislocated shoulder aches, and my ankles are scratched up, but otherwise, I should be fine to ride. I quickly realise that the question is not aimed at me though.

“Of course, it is only a small bite.” Blaise snorts, already stalking towards the stables.

I nod my intention to ride. Alaric frowns down at me and shakes his head. “You’ll ride with me.”

The quiet order is final, leaving no room for argument. This doesn’t stop me from protesting though.

“I am fine. My shoulder won’t stop me from riding.”

Screwing his eyes shut, Alaric holds up his hand, his face pinching as though he’s in pain. “Please, Iris, I need to have you close so I know you are truly okay. I won’t let them separate us again.”

He is really struggling with this. In reality, me riding on his horse is not going to stop us from being attacked, yet if my physical closeness will help soothe that restless part of him, then it is the least I can do. Although I won’t admit it aloud, the idea of being in his arms after everything that happened does help calm my fears a little.

Nodding in agreement, I begin following Blaise, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible. The prince is on my heels, matching my steps, not letting me get far from reach. Glancing over my shoulder as we walk, I see a feral look in his eyes that I have never seen before, and I have to assume it’s to do with me being attacked. Fae natures are different from ours, so I do not know for sure, but this seems to make the most sense given the circumstances.

It is a short walk to the stables, and I can see Blaise with the three horses, saddled and ready for us. Something is still bothering me about the whole event, and I unconsciously slow my steps, my mind tripping over itself. Matching my pace, the prince looks over at me with a questioning look.

Biting down on my lip, I debate saying anything, but just sigh and stare up at the burnt inn as we pass. “Do you really think the Unseelie set the fire?”

“Who else would it be?” Frowning, he gestures towards the building. “This was no accident, Iris. Many of the Unseelie are gifted with fire magic, and they attacked us the moment we realised you were in danger. It is too much of a coincidence to be anything but a planned attack.”

I am sure he is right, since everything points towards the Unseelie causing the fire, and as a lord of that court, Ciaran would have been the one to organise and order it. Why do I keep being surprised by the fact that Ciaran would do violent things to get to me? He told me himself that he would do anything to get hold of me. Setting a fire to smoke us out… If he had not come for me, I would have died due to his own actions. Why does this information hurt me so much? Ciaran means nothing to me. He is bad news and will hurt anyone who is in his way. I need to toughen up and realise that my life is no fairy tale.

We reach the horses, and the adrenaline in my system suddenly crashes, my body shaking with the weight of what just transpired. I almost died. Stumbling backward on weak legs, I start to fall to the ground when Alaric reaches out and grabs me.

Wrapping his arms around my shoulders, he holds me close against his body, glancing down at me with a concerned look in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, just overwhelmed.” Pushing out of his arms with an awkward smile, I brush down my dress, aware of how much of a mess I am, especially when compared to his stunning appearance. Even covered in ash and soot, he still looks ridiculously handsome.

Blaise clears his throat loudly, and I startle, pressing my hand to my chest and looking away from the prince guiltily.

“If we are done flirting, we really need to get a move on,” he drawls, watching us with a smirk. I can tell from the way Alaric stiffens beside me that he also hears the note of pain in his friend’s voice.

Resting a hand on the small of my back, he ushers me forward. “He is right, we need to go. We shall be safe once we reach Seelie territory.”

Something about his voice has me questioning his final statement. If he says we will be safe, then I believe him, yet he sounds almost as though he is trying to convince himself of this fact. Just what is waiting for us in the Seelie Court?