27. Rowan

27

ROWAN

R owan blinked her eyes open. She was momentarily disoriented until the black curtains and dark red bedspread and the stacks of sheet music on the nightstand reminded her that she was in Conor's music room. She stifled a laugh as she realized it had the look of a villain's lair. It could do with some brightening.

She wanted to snoop, but first, she wanted him. The embers of desire still smoldered at the thought of his touch, but when she reached out, the bed was cold beside her.

She'd slept like the dead, heavy and dreamless and, judging by Conor's absence, likely for a while. Her body was pleasantly sore, and she smiled, remembering the way it felt when Conor gave her control—his eyes full of awe. It was such a rush. It was ironic that she'd never felt more alive than when she was in the arms of death.

"Grand, you're awake."

Rowan whipped her head around to see Conor sitting in a chair across the room by the fire, sipping whiskey.

"Come back to bed," she said, patting the space beside her.

"You have to go," he said without meeting her eyes.

The coldness in his tone was in startling contrast to the warmth in the way he whispered her name as she fell asleep in his arms. Perhaps she'd imagined that tenderness.

She swung her legs out of bed and stood, crossing the room to stand naked in front of Conor.

His nostrils flared, but he didn't look at her. "Rowan, please don't make a fuss," he said. "I know you're young and maybe you don't understand. I got what I wanted from you, but I don't do aftercare. You should go back to where you belong."

She laughed in disbelief. "Really? You want me to believe that you just wanted to sleep with me? After you killed an elder for me? After that song?"

He said nothing as he finally met her eyes.

"I don't believe you," she said.

"I killed an elder because he wanted to take what belonged to me," Conor said with a harsh laugh. "I killed him, and then I took what I wanted from you. I have centuries of experience, little Red. Do you really think I couldn't convince you to give something up to me with some sappy story about a song I wrote for you? I've played that same song for the last eight Red Maidens. You all fall for the same story. The god of death with a heart of gold. I understand. It's very compelling to be told you're different than all the rest, but I'm afraid you're exactly the same, Rowan. A pretty little virgin who let me convince her this was her idea. It works every time."

The cruelty of his laugh opened a crack in her mind through which doubt grew like a weed through cobblestones.

"Don't get me wrong—you were fantastic. You're very well trained. I enjoyed every moment of it. I told you before that death's gift is taking," he taunted.

"You're lying," Rowan said, blinking away humiliated tears. Whether he was being honest or not, it was a disturbing reminder that cruelty came naturally to Conor.

"I'm not. Why do you think I made you sleep so long afterward? I didn't want to deal with the waterworks that always come at this point," he said.

Rowan's resolve faltered. She'd slept like a stone, and that never happened. He had to have used some sort of magic on her. She usually dreamt in wild, vivid colors and lucid stories, but there had been nothing but darkness this time.

"You've been asleep a full day, lass."

Rowan stared at him in disbelief. A full day. She wanted to deny it, but the grumble in her stomach suggested he was telling the truth.

"I'll have Charlie bring you some tea before you go. I've laid out a red dress on the bed for you. You should have no issue with the elders now. You're welcome for that, by the way."

"Conor, what are you doing? This isn't you."

He gave her a patronizing glance. "You have no idea who I am, little Red. But right about now, you should be figuring out what you are. You're simply an object to be used—a magical little doll to satisfy me. The sooner you remember that, the better off you'll be."

Every word was drenched in ice. He'd kept her at arm's length, and the first time he did anything remotely kind for her, she'd thought he was different. It wasn't her fault that her concept of caretaking was so flawed. She was as the world made her.

She went back over the course of events. She'd begged him not to go after Elder Garrett, but he'd still done it. He hadn't wanted her to stay with him when the elders sent her. He'd acted like she was a disease he might catch. Then he'd avoided her, popping up only occasionally to kiss her before disappearing again. She'd basically thrown herself at him.

Rowan met Conor's eyes, expecting to find contempt, but she was met with something so much worse: indifference.

She felt gutted. How could she have been so stupid as to not have just stabbed him when she had the chance?

Dressing in the red clothes he'd laid out for her, Rowan was disappointed she couldn't even rejoice in the fact that she could finally wear red. Everything felt hollow. She laced up her boots and buttoned her cloak.

Conor handed her the dagger that the Mother had given her. Anxiety spun through her, but there was no sign on his face that he knew her original intent.

"Don't forget this, lass. You might need it out there. I'm glad to see you've started carrying a weapon. Can't always expect me to come and save you. Like I said before?—"

"You're not the hero in this story," she rasped.

She couldn't believe the man who'd been so sweet and gentle with her the night before could so easily switch to cruelty once he'd taken what he wanted.

"Oh, that's right. You're the hero. Think what's between your legs is sweet enough to save your people? What would you do to save them, Rowan? To save Aeoife?"

Rowan stuffed down her horror and met his eyes. She clung to what little anger she could wrangle. Everything was made so much worse by the fact that he felt everything she did, so even if she succeeded in hiding how broken she felt, he'd feel every bit of her despair. She flipped the blade in her palm, slipping it from the sheath and pointing it at him.

"You know nothing of what I'd do," she gritted out. "Say what you want about me, but don't dare to speak her name, or I'll?—"

"You'll what, Rowan?" he taunted. There was a distinct challenge in his eyes. Perhaps he did know what she intended with that dagger. "Will you fuck me into submission?"

Rowan swallowed hard. "No. I'll end you without a second thought. I might have been foolish, but I'll not make the same mistake ever again."

A flicker of what looked like pain passed through his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, and she was left with the cruel god of death once again. He grabbed her arm and practically dragged her down to the foyer and out the front door. She had to jog to keep up with him, taking in lungfuls of fresh, snowy air.

She paused when they reached the gates, staring out into the snow-covered forest. The Dark Wood looked like it had been dusted in powdered sugar.

"If something happens to me, it's on you," she said.

She didn't look back as she passed through the gates and into the Dark Wood for the first time in days. She walked quickly through the forest, blinking away hot tears that froze in the cold air.

Footsteps crunched in the snow behind Rowan. Her heart leaped into her throat as she spun, hoping for a contrite Conor. Instead, Charlie stood there, a grim smile on his face in the fading daylight.

"I'm to see you back, lass."

"I don't need a babysitter," she huffed, starting back down the trail.

Charlie rushed to fall into step beside her. "It's for the best, lass. Much safer for you to be back in Ballybrine."

Rowan laughed bitterly. "Charlie, I'm not safe anywhere."

"Yes, but what about that little lass you take care of? If those elders will hurt you, do you imagine they'd leave her be?"

The words sent a chill through her more vicious than the icy wind ever could. In her own selfishness, she'd completely forgotten Aeoife. She was probably terrified on her own with so much turmoil. She deserved better than being abandoned by Rowan when so much was in flux.

Rowan pushed her pace even faster, the red dress swishing around her legs.

Everyone would be delighted to see her in red. She'd been eager for it herself. Now it seemed silly. Before she met the Wolf, before she'd been the Red Maiden, she'd been so foolishly eager for experience. The rebel in her was always so ready to run free. Now, that rebellion was responsible for the savage pain in her chest.

She reached for anger, but it was stubbornly elusive, as if she'd used the last of it to try to wound Conor on her way out. It wasn't as if she'd been in love with him, but she'd at least felt the stirrings of something. The idea that someone could look at her and truly see her had been dangled in front of her—having it wrenched from her grip was cruel.

The song Conor had played for her still reverberated through her chest. She swore he understood. She let him close because she thought he did. Rowan pushed, and she'd been the only one burned by her foolishness. She only had herself to blame.

She brushed a rogue tear from her cheek. Charlie gave her a pitying look.

"I'll not take pity from the likes of you. Your job is literally to reap souls," she barked.

Charlie didn't look hurt by it. His eyes were fixed on the trail in front of them until he abruptly stopped. She followed his gaze and found Cade standing in the snow a few yards ahead of them.

"Row, what did he do to you?" Cade asked. He seemed to be looking through her, but his eyes were full of fury.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Cade glared at Charlie, but the reaper shook his head. Something unspoken passed between them.

"I'll take it from here, reaper," Cade said with disgust.

Charlie opened his mouth. "I don't think?—"

"Charlie, you've done enough. Run back to your keeper," Rowan said, reaching for Cade's arm.

As they walked away, she felt Charlie's eyes on her back. She supposed he felt the same way about demons that Conor did.

Good , she thought, go back and tell your master .

"You're wearing red," Cade noted.

"Yes," Rowan said, failing to keep her tears at bay.

"Do you feel okay?"

"Yes. Just exhausted."

Cade only nodded in response.

"Thank you for coming to get me."

"Of course," he said. "You're my best friend."

"How did you know I needed you?" Rowan asked.

"I told you before that I can feel when the Dark Wood shifts. All demons can."

"It's no less creepy hearing it a second time," she sighed.

He grunted. "What happened?"

"I told a lie that only I ended up believing," she whispered.

"Row, for what it's worth, I'm sorry that it was a bad experience," Cade said.

"That's the problem," she rasped. "It wasn't."

"I take it you didn't succeed in killing him?"

Icy shock tore through Rowan. She stopped walking. She hadn't told anyone about her deal with the Mother for fear that the Wolf would somehow find out. There was only one way Cade could know.

The revelation rended her from the one friend she'd had her whole life. She was well and truly alone.

Cade's eyes went wide as he realized he'd tipped his hand.

She yanked her arm away from him and stumbled backward, nearly to the edge of the protected trail. Maybe staying on the trail meant the Mother's magic would protect her body, but it did nothing to protect her heart.

"Rowan, be careful!" Cade called.

"How do you know I was supposed to kill the Wolf?"

"Row—"

" How? " she screamed. "You don't know from me. Which means—" She brought her hand to her heart. It felt like her chest was caving in. "No." It was barely audible, the word lost with the air that punched out of her lungs.

Cade stared down at the snow in shame. The only one who knew her mission was the Mother herself.

"What did she promise you? Why would you help her?" Rowan asked.

Cade ran a hand through his hair. "Demons aren't the only ones who make deals, Rowan. I used to work for the other side, you know. I used to be one of the good guys. I made one mistake. That was all it took. One mistake for a lifetime of darkness. She said if I kept an eye on you, pushed you in the right direction, I could get back what I'd lost."

The icy burn of cold air in her lungs was the only thing keeping Rowan anchored to her body. She half-believed she was still asleep and trapped inside a nightmare. She pinched herself on the off chance she might wake up.

"How long?" she asked.

Cade winced like it hurt to confess. "She's a planner, Row. She likes to have contingencies. She knows how to play a long game."

" How long? " Rowan shouted.

"Since you were turned over to the elders," he mumbled.

Rowan stumbled back a few steps to the very edge of the trail. The only sound was the swirl of snow through the branches above them and her heartbeat in her ears. The grief hacked at her, but she could not fall apart in the middle of the Dark Wood. Conor was probably back in his keep, feeling her broken heart as clearly as if it were his own. She didn't know if that was a comfort or something to fuel her humiliation.

She sank to her knees, the snow instantly soaking through her wool stockings. She bit her lip to focus.

Cade's eyes darted around the periphery. "I know you're mad, but we should get out of the forest. Your grief, misery, betrayal—all of it will attract danger."

Rowan couldn't seem to focus on anything but the way her life had been blown apart in a matter of moments.

"Say something," Cade said.

She finally met his eyes. "I banish you, Cade. I banish you from my presence. I banish you from Aeoife's. I banish you from my entire life. Begone, demon."

Cade swallowed hard as he faded into smoke, and she was left alone in the Dark Wood. It wasn't permanent, but it bought her time to figure out how to force him to leave her for good. It would give her time to figure out what to tell Aeoife, who'd become quite attached to the demon.

A rustle in the brush behind her urged her to her feet. She stood and tore down the trail back toward Ballybrine. She sighed in relief between sobs when the ivy-covered Maiden's Tower came into view.

Mrs. Teverin opened the door of the tower and took in her teary eyes and red dress. Her mouth formed a grim line.

"There now, love, let's draw you a bath," she said.

Rowan surprised herself when she wrapped her arms around the woman and sobbed into her shoulder.

"Shh, let's get you into the washroom. If Aeoife sees you like this, there will be no consoling her. Just a few more minutes, okay? Then you can tell me everything."

Rowan nodded miserably and followed the woman into the tower.