But … that’s not how it went. No, she wasn’t trapped. She’d come here willingly, excitedly. She remembered … she remembered …
The floating drifts of incense returned, rising toward the ceiling, once again accompanied by a woman’s voice. She was … singing this time. Arianna tried to focus through the darkness. She was blind. Was she blind? Arianna cocked her head to the side, straining to listen, to decipher the words. Surely they were another spell meant to keep her here. Maybe she shouldn’t listen at all.
The hands holding her squeezed gently, yanking her momentarily from despair. She tried to focus on them, move her fingers in any way they might permit. They didn’t budge. A sense of calm began seeping through her chest, but just as comfort tried to cast a blanket over her shoulders, those hands tightened. She yelped when the bones ground together, then the tendrils of smoke shot for her wrists, painfully twisting over her scars.
She cried out in pain, feeling the sharp rock beneath her knees bite into her skin. Then she heard a low, wicked laugh before the floor gave out and plunged her down, down, down.
Chapter Seven
Saoirse
Saoirse loosed a long sigh. Upon Arianna’s collapse, they’d all rushed back upstairs to find Rion wincing in pain with Arianna in his arms. Zylah and Raevina had quickly taken their queen back to her room while Saoirse had rushed to her brother’s side, trying to figure out if his mate had stabbed him with a blade or her magic.
She’d been relieved to find no physical wound, but her brother had been gripping the front of his tunic right over his chest so hard she was sure he’d tear the fabric. After a few agonizing minutes of her wondering if his heart was literally failing, he’d pushed himself to his feet and had made his way downstairs before collapsing into a chair.
She’d studied him for a while before requesting hot water from Tierney. Saoirse made the tea herself. He’d taken it gratefully, wrapping both hands around the warm mug before staring into the dim fireplace. His eyes were glazed over, reminding her too much of Ellie. His body jerked at random intervals as if iron itself were sending a pulsing current straight through his body.
Once Zylah had finished getting Arianna settled, she’d returned to inquire about Rion. Talon had taken her place upstairs. Gavin never left Ellie’s side.
Oddly, her brother had barely reacted to Zylah. He’d merely told her he was fine. Zylah, like the rest of them, knew better than to touch Rion when she wasn’t invited. Her brother would likely never grow accustomed to physical touch again, not after everything he’d suffered. Arianna had started to mend him, but now—Saoirse sighed again.
“That’s the second time you’ve done that.”
Saoirse briefly glanced at the female re-wrapping the bandage on her upper arm. She’d tried to tell Zylah she was fine as well, but the female was having none of it. She’d practically dragged Saoirse up the stairs and into the only other empty room.
Zylah moved to Saoirse’s leg next, checking the area before drawing another rune. The gash there was the worst of her injuries, but between Zylah’s runes and her own Fae healing, she was nearly back on her feet. A day or two more and she’d be able to take on the world—mostly.
Zylah prodded at Saoirse’s other leg, glancing up to gauge Saoirse’s reaction as she always did. Saoirse kept still. Silent. Numb. Her emotions had nearly vanished entirely, overcome by the void of depression that had consumed her.
She’d encountered a lot of failures. It was a normal part of life. When one fails, one learns. But this latest failure carried a weight she’d never experienced. She’d learned, all right. Learned that she wasn’t nearly strong enough to protect the one person she treasured above all others.
Zylah moved back to her previous leg, still fussing over the gash. “You’ll have to stay off this for a while.”
“I’m Fae. It’ll be fine in a few more days.”
Zylah made a face. It wasn’t as if they could stay here forever. As soon as Arianna recovered enough to travel, they’d move. Saoirse certainly wouldn’t be the one to hold them back. She didn’t deserve to be. She was the lucky one among their lot. She was alive. Her mate and brother were alive. She’d even been reunited with her long-lost mother.
Saoirse clenched her jaw. She dared to let her gaze roam over the beautiful female kneeling before her. Zylah’s chestnut hair still reminded her of breathtaking sunsets. A fantasy tried to take root in Saoirse’s mind, but she promptly crushed it and turned away.
Zylah leaned back on her heels. Good, she wanted to get out of this room before she did something—Zylah’s cool hand brushed against Saoirse’s forehead and Saoirse’s body ignited at the gentle touch. “What are you—”
“Checking to see if you have a fever.”
Stop touching me.She couldn’t say the words out loud. Didn’t want to. Not when she craved the female’s touch above all others.
Saoirse closed her eyes and tried to ignore the pain searing through her chest. Gods, she loved this. Just one simple touch. She knew she should pull away, but she was like a fly caught in a beautiful flower’s snare. The fact that this female was willing to lay a single finger on her, that she cared enough to tend to her wounds.
My mother, my father, and my fiancée.
Zylah had been marred far more by the world than Saoirse wanted to recognize. No, not by the world, but by those from Brónach. The people Saoirse led and commanded. Was she the one who’d given that command? Was she ultimately responsible for their innocent blood?
“No fever,” Zylah commented, shaking Saoirse from her thoughts. Zylah’s hand fell away, but she remained kneeling, staring up at her. Saoirse kept her focus on the grains in the wooden floorboard.
“Look at me.” Saoirse clenched her eyes shut for a moment, but she was powerless against this female’s command. She met Zylah’s devastating ocher eyes. Rivulets of amber and burnished gold swam within her irises. Those eyes used to be so full of hatred; now they carried something softer. Concern. “Look,” she started, “I know there’s a lot going on, but you can’t just let yourself fall apart. Too much is relying on everyone functioning together, and I think Rion might need you more than he lets on.”
Saoirse’s lips parted, and she nearly laughed. “You think I’m worried about our future?”
“It’s what all ofthemare worried about,” she gestured downstairs. “It’s what they’ve been talking through while you just stare into the fire, lost in your own head.” Saoirse winced a bit at the words, but also found herself surprised the female had even noticed. She’d been so busy tending to Arianna and Ellie. Zylah hadn’t rested for a single moment since they’d stepped foot inside the house. But she’d been like that in Ruadhán, too. Conall’s hideout hadn’t been any different. Zylah just never stopped.
