“Do you believe it would help?”
“Half the time, I’m not certain I believe the Dagda exists.”
“If he’s real, do you believe it would help?”
She pressed her lips together, and then gave a relenting nod. “Yes, I do.”
He nodded to Tarrah. “Go on then. Perhaps it will distract me from—”
A terrible pain ripped through his arm as Reyna shoved her ice dagger deep into his skin. He let out a vicious roar, curling his hand into a fist and punching the ground. Reyna barely even seemed to register the sound. She leaned in close, her tongue between her teeth, digging her blade into the very soul of him.
The mark thrummed and screamed. It was a vile thing, twisting and curling and shoving its own venom deep into his blood. The torment was blinding. His vision turned black, closing around him until all he could see was his own blood splashing onto the rock by his boots.
“Reyna,” he gasped as his body began to buck. The mark shuddered inside of him, throwing out so much pain that Lorcan could no longer remember his own name. Sharp, stabbing bursts spread throughout his every limb. Every single part of him was on fire. Onactualfire, he believed.
“Hold still,” she said, sounding alarmingly calm. “This is a wily little thing. It’s trying to get away from me.”
“Reyna, I’m on fire,” he choked out. Why could he no longer see her? The whole world had gone black. His mark flared large behind the back of his eyelids. The black ink twisted into a living snake, one that bared its fangs at his soul.
“Kill her,” it hissed, darting a long, reddened tongue at his heart. “Kill her or she will kill you.”
“I think he’s passed out,” Nollaig said distantly, her voice edged in worry.
“Probably. This thing is putting up a hell of a fight.” A familiar voice. A stubborn voice. She wasn’t going to give up until this snake was out of his skin.
What are you?Lorcan asked inside his own mind, afraid to hear the answer.
“Unseelie,” it hissed, lurching forward.
Lorcan roared as it sank its fangs deep into his neck, feasting upon his blood and his death. He was dying. He knew it within his bones. Lorcan was fighting against a god. It would never let him go. Not until the last breath whispered from his lungs.
A fresh stab of torment slashed through his arm. Unseelie screamed. Or perhaps it was Lorcan. He could no longer tell where he ended and Unseelie began. The venomous god was a part of him now. Every drop of his blood had been bathed in the evil of the god.
“It’s over. It’s won,” he whispered, inside his mind or outside of it, he did not know. He would never know again.
“I don’t think so,” a stubborn voice said. And then the pain became utterly and wholly complete. The fire consumed every part of him.
“I’ve got it!”
Unseelie dragged him down into the darkness.
34
Reyna
Reyna Darragh would be thrilled if she never had to dig a dark magic snake out of someone’s skin again. Then again, she was glad she’d done it, if only so Lorcan could at long last become free.
“That was very dramatic,” Nollaig said tiredly, resting what appeared to be her chin on her knee—it was difficult to tell with the hood. “I’m beginning to regret giving Lorcan my secret stash. Do you know how long it takes to brew Buntata?”
“I don’t think your pink thing really helped much,” Reyna said, grimacing as she replayed the anguish on Lorcan’s face. She had never before seen anyone in quite that much pain. At one point, she’d been scared he was dead. The magic had taken ahold of his body and had shaken it until there was nothing left.Almostnothing left.
A rustle of movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She was by his side in an instant, cradling his head in her lap. Relief poured through her. Even though he’d lived, she’d feared he would never again open those raven eyes. If it had been up to the magic, he wouldn’t have. She knew it in the very depths of her bones.
“Am I dead?” he murmured.
“No, you’re still stuck with me.”
“Reyna.” He let out a tired yet happy sigh. “Did you get rid of the snake?”
