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But surely The Demon of Alastríona didn’t deserve such mercy.
A HARSH knock jolted Rion awake, his senses taking a quick examination of the surrounding area. He heard Arianna rise and pad toward the door and smelled the fire crackling in the hearth. Rion tried flexing his hands and his magic responded, spiraling in small circles beneath the bed.
Despite his tired state and what the female might think, he wasn’t completely helpless.
The door creaked open. “Is he alive?” a male voice whispered. Rion smirked at the scent of their fear. Two males, both young, though their visit came as no surprise. The knowledge of his injury was sure to bring them running.
“He’s resting,” she replied. Silence. Too much silence. Rion knew they were plotting, giving her instructions because they were too cowardly to finish the job themselves. He tested his magic again.
Seconds ticked by and the door finally closed. His jaw flexed. She knew his weakness, but as long as he didn’t allow her to touch him, he could dispatch her easily enough. Móirín’s most dangerous ability relied upon touch. They could steal the water from any living thing with ease and render an entire limb useless.
He cursed himself for allowing her to touch him last night. She could have easily ended him then.
But she hadn’t. He tried to swallow despite his parched throat. What made him think she’d do so now?Don’t rely on others,a harsh memory whispered. He’d made a promise to himself long ago, yet when he’d been on the verge of death, Rion had drank up her aid as if she were the last speck of water on the planet.
Arianna slowly walked back into the room. He could feel her eyes upon him and readied himself. But right as he thought she’d strike, the floorboard creaked, and she turned toward the far corner. He slit his eyes open and watched her place a dagger within the folds of her thin blanket.
Rion’s body relaxed a fraction. Did she mean to do it later or maybe, just maybe, she didn’t intend to do it at all?Don’t hope for it.
His memory floated back to the male who’d inflicted the injury. He’d moved just like Arianna, twisting and pulling at his magic like those from the royal family. Rion wondered if this female would be so willing to spare him if she knew that male was dead.
That male. Rion might have growled if not for the pain pulsing through his core. That damned male had plagued him for well over a year. A young male that fought as if he possessed a century of experience. Rion had relished their first encounter on the battlefield. Now, he wished he’d killed him back then.
Rion gritted his teeth against another wave of pain and his ears perked when the female passed through the living area again. She moved on near-silent feet and his body became pensive and ready. But she still didn’t lunge for him.
Rion slit his eyes open again and watched her clean the blood and dirt from the floor. She looked female enough, desirable even with long hair that cascaded over her shoulders in a sea of darkness. He swallowed when his gaze shifted lower, examining her delicate, sun-kissed skin. It’d been the softest thing he’d ever felt, and he couldn’t deny wanting to feel it again.
But it was her eyes that’d captured him. A deep cerulean that somehow reached through to touch some long-forgotten place in his soul. They’d brought forth emotions he’d caged decades ago. For some reason, Rion wanted to erase the emptiness in those eyes. He wanted to make them shine. He wanted to know what they might look like if—
Rion bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. He wouldn’t let her scent such things from him, and he certainly wouldn’t succumb to the desires of his body. He hadn’t craved touch since he was a teenager and he’d taught himself to hate it. Because with touch came trust and with trust, betrayal. He’d never forget their sweet lies.
Rion sighed inwardly. He hadn’t killed her and she’d saved him. As he’d already said, it was a kindness for a kindness and that was as far as things would go.
His gaze followed her movements as she walked back into the kitchen then he closed his eyes and let sleep take over.
Chapter Ten
Talon
Talon’s eyes fluttered open in a dimly lit room. He took a painful breath. Then another.
Alive.
He was alive.
He flexed one hand and hissed when a stinging sensation radiated all the way to his fingertips. A quick glance there, then to his abdomen. A broken arm, likely broken ribs, and who knew what else.
But he was alive.
And that Demon was finally dead.
“Took you long enough.”
His blurry vision roamed around the dim room until he found Ellie in the corner, her thin fingers moving swiftly with a pair of needles. She only ever knitted when she was nervous. It was a skill Arianna had taught her when they were children.
“How long?” His voice cracked, throat dry, and she was on her feet instantly, pouring water from a crystal pitcher at his bedside.
“Three days. You haven’t missed the festival.”
