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The jar of herbs lay shattered across the floor, the broom had fallen from its place in the corner, and the kettle that held their lunch was turned on its side. But her body wasn’t there. Instead, he spotted a few drops of blood and a scrape on the floor.
He scented the males who’d taken her and committed them to memory, promising a painful death to each and every one.
Rion blew out the candle on the counter when he stood.
Never in his life had he felt rage like what coursed through him now. Not when his father’s loving gaze turned cold. Not when the male who promised to protect him lied. And not when a female he’d developed feelings for put a knife in his back.
No. This was something new. Like white-hot lightning pulsing through his veins.
His clenched his fists. Someone had taken her from him. Someone had takenhisArianna.
And he’d ensure their suffering rivaled his own.
ARIANNA STUDIED the Fae surrounding her. They sharped weapons, tightened armor, and shifted uneasily in the stillness before battle. Some whispered to their comrades, others seemed to pray, bowing their heads before their chosen gods.
She chewed her lip. All these warriors to take out a single male. But even with their numbers, Arianna could still scent their overwhelming fear.
“They’re all fools if you ask me.”
Her head snapped toward the male. Eoghan, if she’d overheard correctly. “What?”
He inclined his head toward his comrades. “They’re fools. All of them.” He pocketed a knife. “They’re not the first to stage an attempt of this magnitude and they certainly won’t be the last.”
“You don’t intend to fight?”
He chuckled. “Gods no. I’m only here to ensure they don’t take their anger out on you.”
“Why do you care?”
He tilted his head toward the heavens. “Call it instinct. Call it stupidity. There’s just something about you.” He looked at her again. “I felt it the first time I saw you too. Got reamed by my higher-ups for killing my own.”
“You remember.” He nodded. Arianna ran her hand along the links in the chain binding her wrists. “These higher-ups, they let you come just to watch out for me?”
“I can be very persuasive. The Fae from Móirín might believe us uncivilized, but we have gods we worship and beliefs we follow like everyone else. I just happen to be more vocal about mine.”
Beliefs. Did he know? He couldn’t. It wasn’t possible.
“And you believe I’m—what exactly?”
He laughed again, shook his head, and fixated his gaze on an exposed tree root. “I don’t know. I guess that’s what makes them think I’m crazy.”
An explosion echoed through the trees and Eoghan shot to his feet. Birds flew from the forest canopies by the hundreds, and it seemed as though every warrior in the vicinity had taken a collective breath. They were waiting for something. Waiting—another explosion followed by the distant thud of tree trunks hitting the ground.
Eoghan took her arm. “Let’s give them some space, shall we?” He guided Arianna behind the first few lines of waiting warriors. The warriors clutched their weapons and moved forward, males and females alike, pulling their magic from the earth. The trees bent at their command, branches reaching out like menacing, taloned fingers.
Arianna’s heart pounded when another set of explosions went off, this one much closer. She heard the trees crash together, heard the gasps of shock from the Fae surrounding her and the growls that followed.
Rion was coming.
Silence echoed across the field for so long Arianna’s heart sank. Her throat went dry. What if he hadn’t survived? What if one of the explosions had hit and sent him flying into a tree, left unconscious and vulnerable?
She tried not to imagine the blood that had dripped from his abdomen onto the cabin floor. She tried not to envision his worn and fearful expression as he gripped that horrible, gaping hole in his stomach. But the longer they waited, the more her fear grew. She wanted to run to him, heal him, protect him.
Another explosion had Arianna diving for the ground and Eoghan knelt at her side. His eyes never left the trees. Fae warriors dodged three trunks that came crashing toward them and sank into fighting stances, gripping their weapons like a lifeline.
Smoke swirled through the air, carried by the wind. Then a figure emerged from the shadows.
She might have leapt for joy if not for the cold, wicked gleam in his eyes. Or the prowling gait that spoke of a warrior honed from the harshest conditions.
