22. Chapter 22

Cianán

F ingers trail down my bare back, leaving a trail of heat and sparks in their wake, and I groan at the familiar sting. The Hunt had drained more of my power than usual, every ounce of energy spent on claiming my prey. Normally it would be as simple as hunting the oath breaker down and bringing them back to Faerie, but this time was different, and this time I chose to leave her behind.

My body feels heavy, and all I want is to sink deeper into the bed beneath me, letting sleep pull me under once again. But Lorcan has never been one for patience. I can feel him reclining beside me in the bed, his body brushing mine where he hovers over my back.

His nails scrape along my skin next, sharper this time, and I shiver involuntarily. I can sense the irritation simmering in him, but I still don't respond. He is in my chambers, in my bed, and though I've been aware of him for some time, I've yet to acknowledge his presence.

"You've been asleep far too long, mo shealgóir ," his voice slides over me like velvet, smooth and rich with a touch of warning. It drips into my ears, coaxing, demanding. I hum in response, the barest sound of acknowledgment escaping my lips, but still, I don't move. He grows more impatient.

Lorcan's fingers curl, nails pressing harder now, dragging across my skin in a way that both stings and tempts. He's always had a way of making pain blend so exquisitely with pleasure, but after The Hunt, my body craves rest, even as my instincts warn me that rest will not come now that he has sought me out.

His fingers shift, reaching beneath me to grip my throat with a growl that reverberates through the air, sending a thrill of excitement racing down my spine. "You seem to forget that I feel your high emotions," he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin.

I can't resist the smirk that tugs at my lips, instantly knowing what he's referring to. He leans in closer, our faces just inches apart, his icy eyes fierce, a wild hunger glimmering in their depths. "I almost left Faerie simply to join you between her thighs. You're lucky I showed enough patience not to seek you out the moment you returned. I let you rest for almost two days, I have no patience left."

The words hang between us and I can feel the energy radiating from him, the static charge that tingles along my skin. My heartbeat quickens, and suddenly, sleep is the last thing on my mind. I roll to face him on the bed, forcing him to release my throat as I give him my full attention.

His eyes rake down my naked body as he starts to reach out, and I know what he intends to do. To touch our bond marks, to reinforce the connection between us. But his hand freezes before making contact with my skin, a flash of shock and something else I can't identify crossing his face. "You bonded with her?"

I freeze. Even the breath in my lungs stops as I look down at my chest, my heart skipping a beat. Intricate vines and thorns weave across my skin. They glow faintly, pulsing with an energy that seems to echo my heartbeat. It's both beautiful and utterly terrifying.

"Cianán!"

In a split decision, one I know I will probably regret, I let my power flood my body. I concentrate, clothing myself and forcing a shift in location, the familiar pull of magic wrapping around me. In a heartbeat, I am gone from the lavish room, and when I open my eyes again, I find myself in the little cottage I'd long since memorized.

But the woman standing with her back turned to me, pulling sheets from the bed isn't my little songbird. My heart sinks, and a growl builds in my chest as I take in the sight of her. She turns, startled, and the moment our eyes lock, I see the pure fear seep into her features.

"My lord," she breathes, dropping to her knees before me, the tremor in her voice unmistakable. It's the lesser fae woman who owns this dwelling—the one who gets foreigners to stay here as a form of offering to The Hunt.

"Where is she?" I demand, the edge in my voice sharp enough to cut.

She peeks up at me, her gaze flitting nervously. "She left, my lord. She went back to America."

The news hits me like a physical blow, a sharp stab of disappointment and rage.

I let my magic rise up within me again. I don't care where she is or what she is doing, she is mine and I'm taking her to Faerie. But when I try to shift to her side… nothing happens. It's like my power hits a wall.

The feeling is familiar. One I've experienced several times over the last hundred years.

I narrow my eyes at the trembling woman in front of me, struggling to rein in the tempest within. I have to restrain myself from wrapping her in my vines, draining the very life out of her on the floor beneath me.

Because she is now the only one who can help me find my bonded.