She peeled her eyes open to find his face hovering above hers. Concern lined his eyes, and then he let out a tense breath. His hands roamed across her skin, from her arms to her neck to her hair, as if he desperately needed to feel every part of her to know she was okay.
For a moment, she closed her eyes and let him feel her, not ready to face the truth just yet. Lord Worm had cornered them in the library. A damp scent clogged her nostrils. A familiar scent. It reminded her of all those nights she’d spent locked up in Taveon’s dungeons.
“We’re behind bars, aren’t we?” she whispered, not yet daring to open her eyes again.
“I’m afraid so,” he said grimly, his hands pausing at her waist. His fingers tensed around her. “A guard came up behind you and knocked you out. Next thing I knew, the Worm had slammed his sword against my head, too.”
Strangely, Bree’s head felt fine. No headache, no lumpy bruise on the back of her head. Whatever he’d done to her, the fae magic in her body had healed it right up. And it was time to face the truth.
She sat up and glanced around. There wasn’t much to it. It was just like any other cell, and she hated that she was that accustomed to them. Barred walls. Damp, dark stone pathways just outside. Flickering torches that barely provided light. And one single, warped bed the two of them shared. At least the Worm had put them together.
Sighing, she slumped back down. “What are we going to do?”
“Kill him,” Rafe said bitterly.
She smiled. “If only we could. I don’t suppose you were able to get your hands on that book?”
“Unfortunately not.”
Hours passed. She and Rafe stayed on the mattress, tangled in each other’s arms, as they waited for the inevitable. Eventually, the Worm and his soldiers would come for them. Bree tried to focus on the present, on the feel of Rafferty’s arms around hers. She wanted to relish in her time with him before it was gone forever.
Pressing her damp cheek against his shirt, she tipped up her chin to gaze up at him. “I love you, Rafe. You know that, right?”
His eyes softened, despite the fear she knew he felt. “There is no limit to my love for you. You’re the moon in my sky. The stars that light up my nights. Thank you for brightening my life. No matter what happens now, I can die a happy man. Because I got this time with you.”
Tears plopped onto her cheeks. Her chest ached. Her entire body coiled tight. She never should have suggested they come to this place. It had been a wild thought, a snap decision. And it had always been a long shot anyway. Why had she thought coming to a library would make any difference at all?
They needed weapons. Not books.
A door at the end of the corridor opened, and Rafe curled an arm protectively around her, holding her tight against his chest. Bree’s heart pounded loud, rushing into her ears, drowning out even the footsteps she knew came their way. A determination rose up within her as a distant voice called out through the bond. She was so far from Taveon that it was difficult to hear him, but he seemed to scream and shout and rage, somehow knowing what was happening.
Somehow knowing this was her end.
The final battle.
Lord Worm’s boots rattled as he stopped outside the cell. “Well, isn’t this sweet? The captives are lovers, enjoying their final embrace. Maybe I should make you undress and put on a show.” His eerie laughter echoed through the silent halls.
Bree unraveled herself from Rafferty’s arms and stood glaring at the fae.
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m joking. I care little for the lusts of men, and your noises would interrupt my quiet. I can’t think of much worse than watching you two ride each other like mares in heat.”
“What do you want from us?” she snapped.
She felt Rafe’s hand on her back as he stood beside her.
The Worm’s laughter died. His gaze turned serious. “You were given an hour to tour my library, and you overstayed your welcome.”
“By how long?” Bree countered.
“One minute.”
She barked out a laugh. “And so you’re going to kill us because we stayed a minute too long?”
“I’m not going to kill you.” He smiled. “I’m going to hand you over to the demon army. They’ve come through the gate, or did you not know?”
Bree’s lips parted, her gut churning. So, the demons truly had come into Underworld. Had they attacked? Bree and Rafe had come all this way for answers, but it never would have been enough. Even if they’d found a solution in the many pages, it wouldn’t have mattered. It was too late.
He nodded, as if her expression answered everything. “I thought you would have noticed the storms ended. The demons are through, camping only a few fields to the west. They plan to begin their march toward your court in the morning.”
