Page 12 of The Edge of Darkness

Roirdan looked at me. “What happens if you can’t find him?” Worry laced his voice.

The same worry had been creeping along the back of my mind ever since we’d entered the tunnels. None of us knew where, exactly, Niall was. But judging by the small nudge against the mating bond, I knew we were headed in the right direction.

“If you don’t hear from Niall within a reasonable amount of time, get yourselves out and back to Zofia’s safe house. If we can’t locate him, we’ll do the same,” I said.

Remic agreed. “Better to regroup there than to have to try and bypass Benmoor’s wards all over again and risk getting caught.”

Morah nodded. “Now that we’ve been this far, we can port back to this spot and begin again . . . if need be.”

I didn’t want to waste precious moments having to backtrack and try again. I prayed I could find Niall by whatever intuition we shared through the mating bond, and that everything went as planned.

“Be careful,” Roirdan said, gripping my shoulder tightly.

I gave him a brief smile. “You too.” His presence felt a lot like my brother’s, and that soothed me. I didn’t want to separate from him, but if Fallon was in the condition I imagined him to be in, Morah would need help.

“Let’s go. The longer we linger, the more we risk getting caught,” Remic said.

I wasn’t sure if the fates answered prayers, or if their sole focus was to weave beginnings and endings and the in-between. But it seemed fitting to ask for their guidance, since it was they who had a hand in bringing Niall and I together. So, as our separate groups parted ways into the catacomb tunnels, I sent a silent prayer to Delyth, Kaina, and Sephta to guide me swiftly to my mate.

I hoped Aremis got her out.

The last thing I remembered was my longest and closest friend clutching the arm of my mate, trying to protect her in any way he could.

I couldn’t reach out to either of them with my mind, thanks to the damned poison running rampant through my body and the iron around my wrists and ankles.

Aremis had always been the one to make the tough choices and keep a level head about it. I admired him for that. It was one of the many things I admired about him, actually. And I knew that despite what might happen to me, he would get Auren out of Benmoor and take care of her.

Just as he had made sure I got out all those years ago.

Gods, how long ago was that now?

Over a hundred years, if I had to guess.

And now, I found myself back in a similar shithole of a cell, tucked away deep in the fucking catacombs once again.

My memory was a bit hazy, and my eyesight was still blurred, but the smoke in my cell had subsided. It would be about another half hour until the guards would come back and infuse the cell with more of that licorice-smelling shit. Whatever it was, they would leave a fresh canister of it burning in the corner of the cell, and I would be swept away into a deep, forced sleep.

The sleep was awful, full of nightmares of Auren being tortured and dipped into thick black ink that gurgled in her throat as she choked on it. I hadn’t been able to see the faces of whoever forced her down, no matter how hard I tried to focus. They were ominous figures, shrouded in darkness, who would submerge her and ask me about her power—what she was capable of.

If I would only answer, they’d stop.

The first time I’d seen Auren go under, I roared in protest and tried to get to her, but my body wouldn’t move. I was powerless and limp, cursed to lie there and watch my mate succumb to those inky depths, while hands of dripping pitch held her down. With every black air bubble that surfaced, I panicked more and more.

The questioning continued. Oily voices weaved in and out of my mind like snakes. Bargains were offered.

Tell me what she is capable of, and you will be rewarded.

Bring her to me, and your court will be spared.

Then I remembered that it was all an illusion—nothing more than Ramil’s falsely-woven realities, made worse by the effects of the poison. He showed me what he wanted me to see, what he knew would bother me the most. But through every nightmare, I kept my mouth shut and gave up nothing.

I watched helplessly, clenching my teeth until they were on the verge of cracking, as my mate was stripped and beaten, held against her will by magic, and forced to lie still while those stranger’s hands roamed over her naked body. I knew it wasn’t real, but it looked pretty damn convincing, and I raged inside nonetheless.

With each bout, the entities dealt my mate a new form of punishment for my lack of cooperation. And each time, it became harder and harder for me to watch. I didn’t know what condition Auren was really in, but if I learned that she was harmed in any way, I would shatter the world. I wouldn’t care who saw my shadowfire. Ramil, Lyceius—all of them would burn from the inside out.

I dragged my chained hands along the wet stone floor beside me and rubbed the gritty water between my fingertips, grounding myself with the feeling.

You are here, and Auren is home.