He glares at Reid. “You incanted, didn’t you?”
The color drains from Reid’s face. He slowly nods. “I did.”
My throat tightens with a flash of that fae’s hand, pressing me into the wall, heart racing as if it were the end. Reid didn’t want to incant any more than I did.
“What happened?” I ask.
Before Reid can answer, Taran slams his fist into the wall, and my body jolts.
“I told you not to do that,” he shouts. “I forbade it. You agreed.”
Emlyn’s between them in a blink. “We were outnumbered.” He braces his hands against Taran’s shoulders. “Ystyrian soldiers. There was no chance of winning.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“You’d rather we were dead?”
“I felt it!” Taran yells. “Like I was burning from the inside. I thought I was going to die.”
My hand covers my mouth.When he collapsed yesterday…
But that didn’t happen when I incanted back home. Is it because we’re in the faelands now?
His bond with the Land is stronger than anyone else’s.
“He already paid for it,” Emlyn says, his knuckles turning white as he holds Taran back.
“He needs to go.”
“He already paid for it!”
Taran’s voice crashes against my eardrums as he pushes toward Reid. “Get out—”
Emlyn lunges forward, pressing his hand over Taran’s mouth, cutting off his words. The door swings as Reid’s body jerks, pulling him outside.
My breath catches. That was a willbending.
This is bad.I have to do something, but my limbs won’t move. Lungs won’t breathe. Taran’s face—veins bulging, twisting with fury—he shouldn’t be able to look so terrifying.
He shoves Emlyn away. Forcing myself to move, I rush over, taking his hand before he opens his mouth again.
“Taran, stop! You need to calm down.” I turn his face to me. “Listen to them, please. Let them explain.”
His eyes meet mine. After a sharp inhale, his shoulders sag. He nods. I glance at Emlyn, who scowls at us before throwing the door open. Reid’s standing there, looking confused.
Emlyn pulls him back inside, slamming the door behind him. Reid’s gaze lands on Taran and me, and his expression hardens.
I meet his eyes, chin up. I made my choice, and I won’t let him make me feel guilty about it. If anything, he should appreciate that I’ve managed to calm things down.
But uncertainty peeks through.
“Explain,” Taran says, his voice tight.
Reid straightens, still clutching Emlyn’s hand. “We would’ve died. We were losing.”
“I gave my permission,” Emlyn cuts in. “I’m just as guilty.” He pauses as Taran closes his eyes. “He apologized. The Land did something to him. She hurt him to heal Herself.”
“He’s already paid for it,” I whisper. “Let it go. Please.” He has to see… we already have one traitor; he can’t afford to push away Reid and Emlyn.
