8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"I hope you never witness the atrocities I have. If you do, I hope you'll understand why I did what I did. I had to protect us all from the fae. Balance the carnage on both sides." – Lord Rhett, First Lord of Sídhetír.

T wo fae jerked up from in front of the sprawling fireplace. They were massive like mountains, but unlike any fae I'd ever seen. Their skin was leathery and two horns curled from each of their heavy, protruding brows and shaggy brown hair hung around their round faces. They snarled, revealing stained, jagged teeth.

Mrs. Hillridge sat in the corner, trying to shield Nancy with her body, shrieking while her husband roasted alive on the flames. He made little to no noise, but his skin was melted and blistered as he writhed on the red-hot coals, mouth opening and closing.

Bile rose up my throat at the scent of burning flesh. Not far from the fireplace was a haphazard pile of greasy bones with scraps of meat clinging to them.

Mr. Hillridge hadn't been their first victim.

I could not look away. I was frozen in place, watching Mr. Hillridge being cooked over the flames.

The fae didn't have the same problem. They launched at Cethin with surprising speed and grace for their bulky frames. "These humans are ours!"

Cethin deftly moved out of the way. He slapped one of the fae's outstretched hands with the flat of his blade. The creature grunted, and the other tried to seize him. Cethin ducked and sliced the second fae across his bulging gut. The hulking beast didn't even wince. The blade had cut through the fabric of his rough brown shirt, but the leathery flesh underneath was unmarred.

"Move, Aidan," Cethin snarled.

Lurching, I jerked toward Mrs. Hillridge, Nancy, and the single farmhand that huddled in the corner. Their hands were tied behind their backs and their ankles were bound together. I raced to the modest kitchen, trying to ignore the sounds of the fight and Mrs. Hillridge's cries. I ripped through the cabinets and drawers, searching for anything sharp.

I seized a knife, the blade nicking my fingers in my haste, and dashed to the hostages. As I bent down to slice through Mrs. Hillridge's bindings, Cethin crashed into the wall not far from me, splintering the wood. Right on his tail was a sphere of fire.

"Cethin," I screamed.

He held up his hands, grabbing the flames. "Fuck." Black magic mixed with silver stars encased his hands, and he slammed his palms together, quenching the fire. "I'm fine," he said, pushing off the wall. "Get them outside."

I sliced through Mrs. Hillridge's ties first, and she rushed to her husband. I didn't try to stop her, but turned to Nancy, who stared blankly at her surroundings, unmoving. Once she was free, I shifted to the farmhand, who was muttering under his breath and had tears coursing down his tan cheeks. He didn't even move when I cut his ties. I glanced at Mrs. Hillridge who, heedless of the flames, tried to drag her husband out of the fireplace, but his skin slid off his bones at her grasp.

I couldn't get them all by myself. Nancy would have to be carried. I grabbed the collar of the farmhand's shirt and slapped him soundly across the face. He jumped.

"Grab Nancy and run."

He froze.

I shook him and bellowed, "Now!"

The farmhand snatched Nancy, who didn't even squeak, and ran into the pouring rain.

Heat scorched my back, and I dropped to the floor a single moment before a ball of flame hit the cottage wall. The wood sparked and caught alight.

"Shit," I growled. This was not the place for a fire fight.

Cethin moved in front of me, shielding me from another fireball headed in my direction. He caught it and tossed it back at the fae. The massive creature didn't move out of the way. The flames burned their clothes, but did not harm them.

Ignoring Cethin and the cabin burning around us, I went to Mrs. Hillridge, who was still trying to retrieve her husband. The closer I got, the worse the stench became. The man was not dead yet, but he wouldn't survive. His skin was ruined and the inside of his lungs had to be scorched from the heat of the fire. I doubted even magic could save him.

I wrapped my arm around her waist and dragged Mrs. Hillridge to the door.

"No," she screamed, clawing at my arms. "I can't leave him. John!" She kicked my shins, but I didn't slow, and her shrieks didn't quiet. I dragged her out of the cottage, leaving Mr. Hillridge behind.

Steam came off the cabin in waves, and the fire continued to grow, consuming the entire structure. The smoke stung my eyes, and my legs ached from the repeated kicks, but I didn't release Mrs. Hillridge. She fought me every step of the way. If I let her go, she would run to her death. Nancy had already witnessed the horrific death of one parent—she couldn't lose her mother as well.

I stopped near the farmhand, who clutched Nancy to his chest a good distance from the cabin. I chewed on my lip as my heart thrashed against my ribs. Where was Cethin?

He was still inside. He'd told me not to come back for him, but every instinct commanded me to find him.

"Let me go," Mrs. Hillridge yelled, savagely kicking me again. "I have to save John."

Turning her around, I gripped her upper arms. "He is dead. If you go in there, you are going to die."

"Then I will die with him." She writhed in my hold.

"So you will leave Nancy alone?"

She froze, and for the first time, she looked at her daughter, who was motionless, her expression slack. Mrs. Hillridge glanced back to the burning building, obscured by the heavy rain. Her face scrunched as she panted, but she turned away from where her dead husband was, grabbing her daughter and holding her close.

My gaze returned to the fire, trying to catch a glimmer of Cethin. I couldn't hear anything over the rain, but the flames had swelled, glowing brightly in the dim light.

"Please," I whispered. Cethin was only in there because I'd wanted him to find the missing people. The thought of losing his mischievous smile, or the way he stared at me as I talked, created an unexplainable ache within my chest.

A tremor went through the ground a moment before the cabin exploded, knocking me off my feet. Mrs. Hillridge and the farmhand landed on the mud right behind me. My back throbbed, and needles pricked my lungs with every breath. Dots danced in my vision as I struggled to get my lungs to work. I shifted, despite the pain, trying to catch sight of the cabin.

All that remained was a smoldering mass.

Surging to my feet, I shouted, "Cethin!"

My screams were drowned out by the rumble of thunder and the crash of lightning. I ran forward, heedless of the danger. Burning debris littered the ground and sputtered in the heavy rain. Mud splattered my legs as I tried to find Cethin.

With a grunt, I fell to the ground when the toe of my boot got caught in a hole. I landed on my hands, the impact reverberating up my arms. My palms stung, and my ankle throbbed, but I ignored it all and jerked up.

"Cethin." He told me he would come if I called. He had to.

A figure appeared out of the darkness, and my breath stalled. Smoke curled around Cethin as he walked in my direction, sword in one hand and both of the fae's heads swinging from their brown hair in the other hand. Blood dripped from their severed necks, their mouths agape and eyes wide.

Cethin did not look like he usually did.

A feral grin split his face, and massive leathery wings stretched out behind him like a dragon of old. Two black horns curled back from the top of his head, adding to his towering height. His features were sharper, and his eyes harder. All semblance of humanity had been burned away.

Cethin's true form—one without a glamour to soften him.

He threw the heads down in front of me with a smile like he expected a response. When I gaped at the putrid blood leaking from the necks of the severed heads, bile creeping up my throat, Cethin said, "You called for me."

"H-how?" The fae had been beating him before I left.

"You got the humans out, and I no longer had to worry about hurting them with my magic."

"Your magic?" I asked, my thoughts moving slowly.

"I would not have harmed you, under any circumstances," he said, crouching. "But the others, possibly."

My gaze locked onto his hands. Burns covered his long fingers from where he'd caught the balls of fire. The image of Mr. Hillridge cooking on the flames formed in my mind. Unable to contain my stomach, I vomited, again and again, nose running and eyes watering, until there was nothing left.

Cethin stroked the back of my head as I panted on all fours. "You were very brave."

I hadn't done anything. Cethin had killed the fae and protected us.

His fingers slid through my hair as the rain dripped down my face in rivulets. Every ache rushed to the forefront of my senses. The nicks on my fingers from the knife. The bruises on my shins, and the scratches on my arms from Mrs. Hillridge. My skinned palms. My twisted ankle.

Shit, I wanted to lie down, but the rain had not lessened and I was shivering in cold and strain. Cethin continued to pet my hair as I breathed heavily through my nose. The strong odor of bile and blood clogged my nostrils, and my stomach threatened to escape again.

Gently, he cupped my chin and lifted it until I met his pure black eyes. "I need to take you and the other humans to the manor. You're cold and injured."

My fingers wrapped around his wrist and drew his hand down so I could examine his palm. Blisters and raw, red skin filled my vision. "I'm not the only one injured."

"I will heal quicker than you." He looked at the decapitated heads and asked, "Do you like the gift I brought you?"

Words lodged in my throat. No. I did not like them. Why would I want two fae heads? They were disgusting. Somehow, I assumed, he would not appreciate that sentiment. "I appreciate you saving me and the other humans."

A smug smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You saved me first."

"We're even now, I suppose."

His smile died. "No. You are not free of me."

I tightened my hold on his wrist. Did he wish to be free? For some reason, that thought didn't sit well with me. Cethin cupped my cheek with his free hand, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. At some point, his sword had disappeared back to wherever it came from. I couldn't think about the sword's location, because the entirety of my focus was locked onto the feel of him touching me and my fingers on his cool wrist.

After a minute, Cethin helped me to my feet. He gripped my elbow, ignoring his burns. "Let me help you and your humans to Byrne Manor, lest you sicken."

I nodded as warmth seeped under my skin. What was happening to me?