She stood on shaking feet. No. It couldn’t be possible. She took a wobbling step and then another and another. Then she was running toward him. She stood over his gashed body, the wounds weeping and blood frothing on Edward’s lips. Catherine covered her mouth as she looked him up and down. But he had been a monster. She had seen it.
He turned toward her, his gaze unfocused. “I should have told you about my curse. Forgive me for lying?”
She shook her head as tears rolled down her face. What had she done? What had she done! A physician, she must call for a physician. It might not be too late. She turned to run for the manor to ask for help.
But he coughed and sputtered, and then silence fell. Catherine stood very still. She refused to turn around. If she didn’t turn around, then Edward would still be alive. If she didn’t turn around, she wouldn’t have killed her husband.
19
Ray looked from Lord Thornton’s lifeless, bloodied body to Lady Thornton. Tears silently ran down her face, her back to the corpse. This was the second time she’d saved his life. The power that had burst from her—there was no denying it now. She had the blood of the ancients; she must be a descendant of the King of Thorns. She hadn’t known about her husband’s affliction, so her naivety wasn’t an act. But why defend him, why risk her life for his? He wasn’t sure what to make of this information.
“Lady Thornton?”
“Don’t call me that,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
He glanced around. He’d never been one to offer comfort. But he couldn’t just leave her here. Should he find a human to hand her off to? But that felt wrong as well. Their fates seemed to be intertwined now. In ways, he was only beginning to see. The front lawn wasn’t far from where they stood, and guests were flooding out of the doors. He’d heard the screams moments before Lady Thornton arrived. Whatever Bella had planned, she was going to use the forbidden magic to kill all the guests. Lady Thornton trembled. Her wrist was covered in dried blood.
“Are you hurt?” He reached out to check her wound, but she pulled away from him.
She looked at him with large brown eyes, pain in her gaze. Perhaps it was her blood, or maybe it was something else, but if she asked him to pluck the stars from the sky in that moment, he would have done it for her. He opened his arms, inviting her into his embrace. She’d always been skittish of touch, but he didn’t know what else to do.
For a moment, she eyed him, but then in a rush of apparent decision, she flung herself into his arms, small fists grasping his dirt-stained tunic. She buried her face against his chest and gasped a sob.
“I never meant—” she cried.
Very slowly, he patted her back. This is what humans did, wasn’t it? She cried against him, wetting his shirt. A part of him wanted to enclose her in his embrace, but he knew better, he’d been trained to protect and serve the royal line. And he shouldn’t cross any lines. But as she clung to him, his insides twisted. If only he could vanquish her guilt, the way he would any other enemy.
“Lord Thornton! Lady Thornton!” A voice shouted in the distance.
Ray tensed and looked toward the manor where a trio of figures approached with a lantern in their hand to guide their way. What would the staff say if they found him here beside Lord Thornton’s corpse, his weeping widow in his arms? He’d seen the humans turn on outsiders before, and it was never good for the accused. But what to do with Lady Thornton? It wasn’t as if he could bring her to Faery. If her power were discovered...
She pulled away from him, dashing her tears with the palm of her hand. Her eyes were puffy from crying, and her face flushed.
“You have to stop her. I left her at the gateway. She wants to close off Faery from the human realm.” Her voice trembled, but she was trying to put on a brave face. He rather admired her for it.
“What about you...” he trailed off. She had yet to look at her husband’s dead body.
“I’ll explain everything to the staff.”
He wanted to challenge her to demand she let him stay by her side. But he knew how this would play out. She might have the blood of the ancients, but she was a human before all else. And their rules didn’t follow that of the fae no matter how much he might wish it otherwise. If Bella were close by, he had to capture her; with two more bodies, he doubted his father would be forgiving and take him at his word that he wasn’t responsible.
Ray ran for the gateway as he heard voices draw nearer. What Lady Thornton could possibly tell them to explain what had happened he could only imagine. It felt wrong to leave her alone, but he had to press forward. This might be the last chance he had to catch Bella. If he captured her, he could clear his name both for the killing of the women of Thornwood and for the death of the king.
He flew over the lawns of Thornwood Abbey, and in the distance, he felt the pulse of the gate, and on the wind, the stench of magic. He found the ritual site and skidded to a halt. The metallic tang of forbidden magic polluted the air along with the scent of blood. The hearts of the woman who’d been killed lay on the remains of a power sigil. Blood stained the grass and soaked into the earth. Ray turned in a circle, searching for Bella, but she was nowhere to be found. She’d gotten away.
Ray growled and kicked over a candle. He’d been too late again. She could have gone anywhere through a gateway to a far off realm to disappear for another hundred years. He turned in place once more and growled.
The owl landed on a nearby branch of a tree. Her golden eyes taking in the scene. “Quite the mess,” she remarked.
Ray scowled at her. “And I suppose you didn’t see what happened here?”
“I feel as if I should be insulted.” She ruffled her feathers as she clicked her beak at him in a disapproving manner.
Why was he wasting time talking to his father’s spy? He should be using this time to hunt down Bella. But as much as he wanted to capture her at last, his thoughts were once more drawn back to Lady Thornton. They would be taking the body in by now. Would they mark her as a killer, or would they see her as a grieving widow? He shouldn’t have left her side... He aggressively rustled his own hair. What was he thinking? Dawn was hours away, and he didn’t have any proof to give his father about the killer.
“I thought I would have until dawn, at least. Come back to me in a few hours,” he snapped at the owl.
“Quite the contrary, his lordship would speak with you.”
