Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

A dripping noise pulls at my consciousness. I fight through the fog of pain and blood loss to focus on my surroundings. We’re still in the forest, but my bond is telling me that Alaric is far away. The Unseelie must have covered a lot of ground while I was passed out.

I’m tied against the trunk of a tree, the dripping noise my blood on the exposed roots. My injured arm has been bound to my chest, and that is probably the only thing that saved me from dying of blood loss. My entire body hurts, but it’s the pain in my arm that takes the majority of my focus.

My abductors seem to have set up a sort of camp, and I assume it’s to wait for the others who were still fighting. I’m struggling with the desire to close my eyes when a strange sensation moves through me. It feels like a caress in my mind, a cool touch that awakens me.

Ciaran.

“Why is my future bride tied to a tree?” His voice rings around the camp, the question reasonable, but the fae all seem to flinch, expecting the worst.

No one speaks. The pause only grows until there is an awkward clearing of someone’s throat and a small creature with a hard shell moves forward. “We needed to keep her—”

Ciaran cuts off the creature’s rough voice as he steps towards me, his head tipping back as he scents the air and his eyes lock on my injured arm. “Why is she bleeding?” This time he doesn’t bother to hide his anger, his tone icy. In fact, he sounds so cold that I almost expect my breath to mist in the air. No one answers, their fear obvious in the way they hold themselves. “I said, why is she bleeding?”

This time when he repeats himself, some of his power leaks out, and those around me fall to their knees. Fear creates a tight knot in my chest. How is Ciaran able to wield power so strong when some of these monstrous creatures are the stuff of nightmares and many times his size?

An ogre stumbles up to his feet, facing Ciaran with a deadly stare. “She got injured by one of the hounds.”

The lord’s lip curls up, and he nods in understanding. “Bring me the handler.”

Low murmuring fills the space we’re all gathered in as the Unseelie shuffle around, looking for the handler. They don’t have to look too hard, because he steps forward without their urging. He is the same type of fae as Ciaran, only much less powerful, his brown hair pulled back to expose his pointed ears.

Examining his expression as he faces Ciaran, I can’t help but feel like he’s accepted whatever fate is coming to him. I feel a little bad that he’s going to get humiliated in front of everyone for something his hound did.

Clearing his throat, the fae clasps his hands behind his back. “Lord—”

With a sharp gesture, Ciaran draws a horizontal line in the air. At first, nothing happens, and then the handler’s head falls, perfectly sliced off, before bouncing on the ground several times and coming to a stop. My breath catches in my throat, a strangled sound escaping me and capturing Ciaran’s attention.

There was no chance for him to explain or redeem himself. He was executed on the spot.

This is the Unseelie court I expected, so why am I so surprised by it? It was a quick, clean death, but also ruthless. What is shocking me so much is the fact that no one seems all that surprised by it.

“Those of you who brought her here, step forward.”

Once again, they do, following his rules even though the atmosphere is now tense. It won’t take much for it to burst, and when it does, I don’t know how the Unseelie will react. I’m surprised by how thoroughly they are following his orders, though, in exposing themselves as guilty when they know they will face his wrath.

My head is still pounding, and even in the soft moonlight, my eyes are stinging. This isn’t a good sign, especially as everything comes in and out of focus. I’m struggling to think properly and pay attention to everything that’s going on, relying on my bindings to hold me up.

“I said not to harm her.” Ciaran is examining me, his eyes seeing right through me to my damaged soul. Being separated from Alaric, leaving an injured Blaise, and the feeling of betrayal from Ciaran is breaking my heart. It’s too much.

The lord gestures to me, turning his animosity back on the gathered fae. “Does she look unharmed to you?” Without waiting for an answer, he raises both hands and makes the same motion as before. In unison, everyone who stepped forward falls, their throats cut.

He is unapologetically wrathful. Why do I find that thrilling? I think the trauma and blood loss has finally made me crazy.

“This is a warning to the rest of you.” Ciaran spins to take in the rest of the fae, his posture demure and perfect, but his face says what his words do not. He is furious and will tear apart anyone who dares to defy him. “Iris is not to be harmed under any circumstance.”

He’s at my side in the blink of an eye, throwing up a barrier between us and the rest of his companions. Frowning, I stare at the shimmering barrier as it changes colour and blocks out everything else outside of it.

His face crumples, his expression devastated as he takes in my current state. “Oh, Iris.” The words are whispered so quietly that I almost convince myself he didn’t speak. He quickly but gently removes my bindings, placing a hand out to steady me as I stumble forward. “Here, let me help you. Don’t worry, no one can see or hear us.”

That explains the barrier then.

“Why are you helping me?” I ask as he finishes untying me and helps me sit on the edge of a fallen log.

Assured that I am sitting and not going to topple over, he kneels before me, gesturing to my arm. “I meant what I said, Iris. I believe we are meant to be together, and I promise not to harm you.” The connection between us tells me that he’s speaking the truth, so I hold out my arm and let him examine the wound. Squeezing my eyes shut, I turn my head away and take steadying breaths.

“Your arm needs healing. Can I get someone to heal you?”

I nod in agreement. I’m not proud enough to turn down healing if they are offering it. For some reason, I trust him to make sure I am taken care of, knowing he wouldn’t put my healing in the hands of just anyone. Why I am so sure about this, I have no idea, but a wave of pain almost knocks me back, taking away all rational thought.

A doorway suddenly appears in the shield, and a gorgeous fae steps through. She is beautiful and has the same eyes as Ciaran. In fact, they share many features, including the silver hair, only hers has streaks of turquoise in it.

“This is my sister, Amber. She’s a healer,” Ciaran tells me, waving her forward and confirming what I thought—they are related.

“Amongst many other things,” she says with a smile and a wink as she moves closer. However, her expression drops as she looks over me, her face going grim when she sees the bite on my arm. Dropping to my side, she blows out a breath before placing a hand on my shoulder.

“She’s lost a lot of blood.” Amber’s quiet voice is comforting, and I allow my eyes to close, the warmth flowing from her hand soothing me. “I can’t fully heal her here, but I can fix it enough to stop the bleeding and restore basic function.”

“Do what you can.”

Ciaran sounds tense, but I am too exhausted and in pain to respond.

I am not sure how much time passes, it could have been minutes or hours, but a pair of hands shakes my shoulders firmly.

“Iris, wake up!” It’s Amber.

“What’s happening?” Blinking sleep from my eyes, I look around as fae run in a panic, shouting and battle cries echoing in the sky. It’s sunny now, the spell cast over the moon gone. The Unseelie must be back in their territory so as not to be affected by the curse.

“The king is here. We have to run.” She helps me to my feet, glancing around at those passing by. “I healed you as much as I could in this short time, I’m sorry.”

“No, thank you for helping me.” I squeeze her hand, genuinely grateful for what she’s done for me.

Feeling a pair of eyes on me, I gently shake off Amber’s hand and gesture for her to go while I look around for the source of the sensation. The Seelie king sits on horseback, staring at me as his soldiers attack the fae. Alaric isn’t here. I can already feel that he’s far away, yet I can’t stop myself from looking.

Everywhere is chaos, and honestly, I’m torn by what I should be doing next—go to the king and be locked up in the Seelie castle, or go with the unpredictable Unseelie and help break their curse.

The king approaches and holds out a hand, clearly offering to take me away from here.

A body presses up close behind me, a pale hand resting on my shoulder.

Disgust spreads across the king’s face. “It’s too late. They have her, and we have to do something before she breaks the curse.” Shaking his head, he backs his horse up and gestures to the guard at his side. “Kill her.”

Before I have a chance to react, the guard takes his bow and shoots me with his arrow before I can even absorb what he said.

“No!” Ciaran screams, his power exploding out in a wave.

Warmth soaks through my dress, and I look down to see the arrow protruding from my chest, right over my heart.

Stunned, I drop to the ground, a single tear rolling down my face.