And now she was dead.
“Lorcan!” Reyna shouted. “Lorcan, please, come on!”
The world snapped back before him. The entire village was screaming and racing across the hills. A loudsmacksounded in the air, and a sharp sting exploded in his cheek. He looked down to spy Reyna’s outstretched hand and a furious determination set in her furrowed brows.
“The wood fae are attacking, and I swear to the Dagda, if I have to jump in front of another arrow to save you…”
“You slapped me.”
She threw up her hands. “Of course I did.”
“You know, there are better ways to snap someone out of shock.”
“You two.” Duff launched toward them as he shoved a long, willow arrow into his bow. “Take the boat and get the hell out of here.”
Lorcan pressed his lips together. “I thought we made it clear that we don’t leave allies behind.”
“Bah,” Duff growled. “Only a dozen of these arseholes made it through the wall of fire. If you want to help, make sure some of them see you. That’ll split ‘em up. You take on some. We take on some. And then we win.”
Reyna frowned. “What if they don’t follow us?”
“Oh, they will,” Duff said grimly. “The wood king will want to get his bloody hands on you. In fact, he’s likely salivating about it.”
Lorcan saw Reyna visibly shudder.
With a nod, Lorcan said a goodbye to Duff and raced across the field. Reyna stayed in sync with him every step of the way with Wingallock soaring by her side. Every now and then, Reyna would wince when her foot hit the ground a bit too hard. It was a reminder that she’d been close to death only a few short days ago by making an unfortunate acquaintance with an arrow. He would have to make certain it didn’t happen again. He didn’t think she could survive a second wound like that.
Their feet hit the sand just as anguished cries filled the smoky air. Lorcan risked a glance over his shoulder. Three of the archers had followed them, striking down a villager who had placed himself between Lorcan and the attackers. He roiled on the ground, an arrow sticking out of his thigh.
Lorcan cursed and threw himself forward, hating that there was nothing he could do to help.
The archers galloped after them on glistening white steeds. They were growing closer. Within moments, they would be within striking distance of the arrows, and the boat was still too far away.
Reyna came to a sudden stop, skidding against the sand. She grasped his arm and glared up at him fiercely. “Do you trust me, Lorcan Rothach?”
His heart tripped over itself. Whatever she was about to say next, he knew he would hate it with every fiber of his being. “Of course I do, but—”
“You go that way, and don’t let them see you.” She pointed further down the shore. “I’ll go this way. While I distract them, you sneak up from behind.”
Lorcan’s heart thundered. “Are you out of your bloody mind? You just got hit with a fucking arrow!”
“Because you didn’t trust me! Because you didn’t stay back!” She gripped the front of his tunic and yanked his forehead down to hers. “If I say I can do something, then trust me to do it. And if I need your help, I’ll call for you. It’s our only hope of getting out of here alive.”
Lorcan ground his teeth. The last thing he wanted to do was let Reyna throw herself into the path of danger again. But as much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He hadn’t trusted her before. He’d wanted to sweep in and be her hero. He’d ignored her, thinking she was too stubborn to know how to keep herself safe.
All he’d done was get her hurt. She had almost died because he hadn’t listened to her.
With a tormented sigh, he took a step away from her, feeling his soul come apart at the seams. “Don’t make me regret this, Reyna.”
The smile she gave him was blinding.
With dread in his heart, he ducked low and raced down the shore with his shadows pulsing around him. They hid him from view of anyone who might turn his way. When he’d gone several meters, he paused and craned his head over the hill, spotting the wood fae instantly. But Reyna was what drew his eyes the most.
She stood with her feet planted in the sand, her familiar fluttering in the wind by her side. One hand held a rock, and the other was curled into talons like her bird. The three wood fae charged toward her. One eyed her warily while the others aimed their arrows. Her back faced him, but he did not need to see her face to imagine her devilish smile.
His stomach twisted uneasily. He hated this. Every single moment of this. But he had made a promise to trust her. He had to believe that she could do this.
Keeping low to the grass, he inched his way behind the wood fae, flinching when he heard the unmistakablesnickof arrows being loosed.
