Hunter Forsaken (Wild Hunt #2) (21 page)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Tegan watched the fissures close and the hunks of dirt seep back into the earth. Then she stared at the patch of grass where Ian had disappeared and waited for something to happen. Maybe he’d pop back into view, or she’d get a glimpse of him in the fairy realm. Minutes turned into hours, yet nothing changed.

Still she sat there, lost and more alone than she’d ever been. The endless days trapped in her personal hell didn’t come close to touching the emptiness in her heart. She pressed a hand against her chest. The ache centered there had spread. It chilled her.

The world around her brightened as night turned into day. The murmur of voices surrounding her quieted, and the last of the hounds faded into the Underworld with their horses. Her siblings had long since slunk away after offering her empty words of consolation. All save two.

Calan laid a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find another ring and draw him forth. Harley is confident she can do so more quickly this time.”

Tegan nodded. He gave her a comforting squeeze, then left. Rhys sat across from her, legs crossed and elbows propped on his knees. Time stretched, and silence reigned. She welcomed it, but knew he wouldn’t leave until he’d said whatever it was he came to tell her.

Finally, he took her hand, the one with the Triad’s mark, and held it up for her. She glanced at it, not caring what it showed, but gasped at the sight.

The jagged line that had spread up her arm after she’d mated Ian had cracks running through it. Her tanned flesh showed in the gaps that had appeared. The mark had thinned too.

“You’re winning.”

Instead of happiness, the pain in her heart consumed her. “It’s not worth the price, Rhys. All I want is my mate back. I love him. I don’t want him to suffer because of me.”

“You need to trust him.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I need to trust myself. I have no control over his choices.”

Rhys frowned. “Exactly. You need to trust that he’ll make the right ones.”

“I connected with Bjorn in the fairy realm. He brought my fears to the surface. Yes, they centered on Ian, but it is my doubt over loving someone completely that will destroy me. There’s a vulnerability in love, Rhys. No amount of strength or cunning can conquer it. It takes trust, in your lover and yourself.”

She stood, the thought settling over her. The rightness of it eased the churning in her gut. “Don’t you see? When you love someone, you set yourself up for the greatest joy or the darkest pain. No matter how much I want it, I can’t force Ian to remain faithful or even love me back.”

“But he will”—Rhys pushed from the ground—“and he does.”

“Then we will thrive and conquer our issues. Together.”

“And if he does stray? Will you forgive him?”

She gave the only answer she could. “No. I won’t.”

“Then you’ll end up alone and bitter, like Rowan.”

She shrugged. “But if he doesn’t, I will have an eternity in the arms of the man I love. It’s worth the risk.”

* * * * *

Ian landed in the center of the rose garden, the place where he and Cynthia had planned to exchange their marriage vows. She waited for him in the long wedding gown she’d designed. Her hair was twisted in some intricate design he couldn’t describe, and just the right amount of makeup brought out her features. She was beautiful. He always knew she would be.

“Have you figured out the rules of the fairy realm yet?” she asked.

Bjorn had given them. To make its illusions real, Ian had to give them life. Love them, fear them, acknowledge them. No way did he want a shadow of a life when his heart and soul remained with Tegan. He’d rather spend eternity alone.

He turned his back on Cynthia and walked away.

“Ian, come back! We can finally have our happily ever after.”

He ignored her and started walking. Her pleading faded with each step until silence surrounded him. The forest thickened. Vines hung, blocking his path. He pushed them aside and kept putting one foot in front of the other. He ducked under a low-hanging branch and stumbled to a halt. The tree limbs morphed into beads. He shoved the strands aside and groaned at the sight of the Haven’s main room.

“Fuck no.” He pivoted to get out before the illusion sucked him in, but a wall stood where the door should’ve been.

Hands settled over his hips, lips pressed to his neck, and breasts pillowed against his spine. “Are you ready to play, Ian?”

He closed his eyes and conjured Tegan’s image. He held it close as the illusionary demon pulled his zipper down.

* * * * *

Tegan strode into Arawn’s chambers three days later. She’d spent every single minute of her time searching for another fairy ring, without luck. She would’ve continued to do so, but Trevor had regained consciousness a day ago and promised her he’d find one. She believed him. He loved Ian like a brother and had ways to get information the Huntsmen struggled with in the modern world. Combined with the nightly search of the hounds, they’d find a portal. In the meantime, she needed to deal with one other issue—the doubt over her father’s actions.

Arawn turned at her abrupt arrival. He raised a brow. “Are you ready to take my offer?”

“Did you kill Bjorn because you didn’t want me to fall in love?”

“No.” He delivered his answer in a flat tone.

She stared at his blank expression and asked the other question that had plagued her since confronting the illusionary Bjorn, the one who’d given voice to the fears she’d harbored for over a millennium. She’d taken Arawn’s word on Bjorn’s infidelity. It had hurt too much to investigate his claims.

“His infidelity? Was it real?”

Arawn sighed and closed the distance between them. “It caused you pain. Why would I make up such a thing?”

“So I wouldn’t become weakened by love.”

He snorted. “And confining you to the Underworld because you’d succumbed to your rage wasn’t a sign of weakness? I should’ve replaced you as third in my army then. I didn’t.” He brushed his fingertips along her cheek. “I am many things, but I love my children. If I can prevent your suffering, I will.”

She stared into his silver eyes with its darker ring of gray around his pupil and let a lifetime of memories wash over her. He did love her. It was Bjorn who hadn’t loved her enough. She’d risked her heart and failed. There was no shame in it. She accepted the truth and felt her heart lighten.

She nodded.

“Good.” He pulled a vial of shimmering liquid from his pocket and held it out to her. “Drink this. It’ll sever your bond to Ian.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Not now, but that might change.” He placed the cool tube in her hand and curled her fingers around it. “Take it and decide later. Lucas has informed me Ian will not die if he feeds regularly. You are free to make your choice without guilt.”

“Don’t you want it to break your tie to Minerva?”

He turned away and grabbed the decanter of liquor on the desk next to him. He poured a shot and drank it in one swallow. “If I do, she’ll die.”

Tegan closed her eyes. “She gave up everything for Ian, including her immortality.”

“Yes, and it’s my fault. I took the one thing she’d always craved away from her when I made the deal with the Triad to father my army.”

“You’ve forgiven her?”

Arawn poured another shot and drank. “No, but I do not wish her death. I still love her with all my heart and soul.” He downed a third and slammed the glass down. It shattered. “Love is not easy, daughter. I have no answers for you in your dilemma with Ian, but I wish you to have the options I do not. What you do next is up to you. I will not influence you.”

He didn’t wait for her response. He crossed the room and disappeared onto the lower balcony. The sliding glass doors closed.

She’d been dismissed.

She tilted the vial. The liquid mesmerized her. For a moment, she saw Ian sitting alone on a rock crevice, rain soaking him.

Real or illusion? She sighed. It didn’t matter. He was alone. She only prayed she’d get him back before he thought she’d abandoned him or forsaken their love.

Grief made people do things they normally wouldn’t.

Then again, so did love.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Tegan sat on the deck of the Huntsmen’s estate and watched the sun set. She knew she should begin her nightly search for a fairy ring, but she had to make a decision first. Twenty-seven days had passed since Ian had fallen into the fairy realm. Yes, time moved slower there, but Ian would’ve needed to feed after a couple of days. From what she gathered speaking to the older immortals, about nine days had passed for him.

Lucas assured her if Ian didn’t feed, he’d simply grow weak but not die. The fairy realm wouldn’t allow it. Lucas also admitted he didn’t think Ian would be able to resist the lure of sex, whether it was with an illusionary woman or not. The Demon King claimed his hunger was the reason he hadn’t been able to walk away from Minerva. He’d starved himself for a millennium. He doubted a barely mature incubus would be able to withstand the temptation.

Ever since Arawn had placed the vial of angel’s tears in her hand, she’d debated her choice and kept coming to the same conclusion. She loved Ian. She had to trust in their love. Ian’s choices were out of her control. They always had been, just as Bjorn’s had been. He’d known the risks of joining the Hunt. He’d taken them knowing full well he hadn’t been faithful to her. He hadn’t seen any problem with it or the murders he’d committed over his lifetime. His choice, his consequence.

Ian had to make his too, and it was past time she made hers.

She hopped the railing and walked toward the lake. The still waters offered her comfort. It was a beautiful sight, no matter what resided below it. She stepped to the edge and withdrew the capsule.

An angel’s tears. Why would one cry for the Huntsmen? She’d give the answer—because they’d sacrificed a millennium of their lives for the well-being of the humans—but she knew better. That would’ve been considered duty. Why have power and immortality if you weren’t willing to suffer for the benefit of those who didn’t?

No, an angel had cried for them, and the species rarely showed any emotion.

Why?

She closed her eyes and recalled the moment when the Triad had spoken to them.

Love. The deity had asked if they’d acted out of love when the Huntsmen had reached out to Harley. They’d answered unanimously, yes.

Yet, until that moment, they’d all shunned it. They’d seen the pain Rowan had experienced. None had wanted to feel that too.

Love was a risk. Rowan had gambled and lost. So too had Tegan, and it was time she did so again.

She popped the stopper and emptied the vial into the lake. Warmth snaked up her arm and settled in her heart. She breathed a sigh, then glanced at her hand, not needing the confirmation but unable to stop herself.

The black line that had reached past her elbow was gone.

She’d solved the Triad’s challenge.

“Now I need to find my mate.”

She spun on her heel. A fairy ring stood several feet away, the Triad’s doing, no doubt. She ran to it, uncaring of how it got there, and sliced her palm. Blood dripped, and the portal tossed her into the fairy realm. Rain soaked her clothes and chilled her. She shoved her hair from her eyes and scanned her surroundings. It matched the tiny peek she’d gotten from gazing into the angel’s tears. She glanced at the rock wall in front of her and caught a glimpse of Ian’s brown hair.

“Ian!”

He didn’t move. Fear gripped her, unreasonable yet undeniable. He couldn’t die. She reminded herself of the truth. It didn’t help. She needed to hold him and know he still lived. Beyond that, she didn’t have a clue what would happen. It all depended on Ian and his love for her.

* * * * *

Ian pressed his palms to his ears and groaned. She was back to torture him again. He couldn’t take much more. The fairy magic had stopped tempting him with fake replicas of Cynthia and women in all shapes and sizes once it realized he wouldn’t be tempted, but it continued to bring him the one girl who owned him—heart, body and soul.

The one who’d also forsaken him to his own living hell.

He kept reminding himself that it was possible she couldn’t find another fairy ring. The words had stopped bringing him comfort days ago, however. Numbness had gripped him in the time since she’d been ripped away from him. That and loneliness. He missed her smile and the look of lust and love in her eyes when she gazed at him.

No matter how many manifestations of her the magic in the realm created, none could capture the mixture of angel and siren Tegan was to him. All it had accomplished was to make his longings grow. Nobody else would do. He wanted the flesh-and-blood Tegan or nothing at all.

Vanilla. Her scent filled his lungs. He groaned with the surge of lust tightening his body.
No, goddammit, no.
He used the last of his strength to roll to his side. Knees pulled into his chest, he closed his eyes and prayed the illusionary Tegan would just disappear and let him suffer in silence.

“Ian.”

Her voice caressed him in places none of the other fantasy lovers had been able to reach.
Please, no.
He refused to be swayed. He wanted to tell her to get away from him, but knew better than to talk to the conjured replicas. It gave them life and a hold over him.

Soft hands touched his back, then moved to his sides. His muscles had long since shrunk. He was no more than saggy skin and bones.

“My mate, I am sorry.” She pressed her lips to the back of his neck. Heat seeped into him along with power. His greedy cells soaked it up.

She kept kissing him, across his shoulders, over his throat to his jaw. With trembling fingers, she tipped his chin and licked his lips, prodding at the seam to seek entry. He squeezed them tighter, all the while drinking in the energy her touch brought.

“Look at me, my mate. It’s Tegan. I’m really here, not an illusion.”

The tears in her voice forced him to crack his eyelids open. Beautiful brown eyes brimming with moisture stared down at him. His heart took up an erratic beat. Could it really be her?

“Tegan?”

She gave him a watery smile. “It’s me.” She held up her unmarred hand. “I figured it out.”

“Oh, angel.”

He opened his arms, and she settled against him on the cold, hard rock. On a sigh, he kissed her and poured his love into her. She returned it, and the strength he’d lost flared within him. His body filled out, and warmth returned to his cold limbs.

“I love you, Tegan.”

“And I love you, Ian Callahan.” She cupped his face in her palms. “Are you ready to go home?”

“As long as I’m with you, I am home.”

She gave him a smile that did crazy things to him, made his chest lighten and his cock ache. He wanted to get them into
a bed and love her all night.

“Then let’s go.” She stood and offered him a hand.

He took it. “Aren’t you going to ask if I was faithful?”

“No.”

The look in her eyes told him she understood what his gaunt appearance meant. He gave her the words anyway. There’d be no misunderstanding between them. “I was, and I will be for an eternity. Together, remember? We face the future together.”

She settled against his side, arms wrapped around his middle. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Neither would I, angel. Neither would I.”