The Fae Ring (16 page)

Xander screamed her name, whipping his head back, and arching. He panted, and their gazes locked. “I cannot release the Stones. Magic holds me…burns me.”

“I feel it,” Janet moaned.

“Shut down our bond.”

“Nay!” She shook her head. Pain shot up her arm when she grabbed his wrist, but she ignored it, trying to pull his hands from the largest crystal of the Faery Stones.

“Lass, do it. I don’t want you hurting.” Xander’s violet eyes implored.

Janet frowned and pulled harder. Pain rebounded from the bond, and her husband winced. His hands didn’t dislodge from the crystal.

“You will not be able to free me. This was a trap. I was foolish.”

A maniacal laugh filled the air, and Xander cried out. His head fell back, but his chest heaved as if he’d sucked in a breath and he fought to meet her eyes again.

Boot steps sounded on the stairs of the dais.

Janet froze. A whimper fell from her lips unbidden, and agony still radiated all over her whole body. She tightened her grip on Xander’s wrist.

Her husband’s gaze burned her face. “Run,
m
ò
aingeal
.”

Mikhias’s laugh was maniacal. The dark-haired warrior brandished his sword as soon as he reached the top of the dais. “You cannot open the Faery Stones, no matter what you try.”

The warrior mentioned nothing about the spell that was burning its way through Xander’s body. He tried to extend his wings, but was only presented with more pain. He couldn’t straighten now, and fought the fall when his muscles urged him to his knees.

“It’s a trap,” Xander repeated at a whisper, but his wife had still not moved from his side. She hadn’t shut the mating bond down, either. Her body was tight as she too fought the pain of the spell.

Janet’s sapphire eyes were wide when he met her gaze.

“Run,
m
ò
aingeal
,” he begged again, forcing each word past his lips. His tongue was thick, glued to the roof of his dry mouth as Xander tried to combat the agony with his magic. He got no response from his commands. It was worse than when he was in the Human Realm. No echo of the powers in his body. Everything was just
gone.

She shook her head and clung to his arm. “Nay.”

“Lass, please. You can stop your pain. Subdue the magic.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she glared at him. “Nay. I shall no’ leave you. Or be distanced from you in any way.” Her nails bit into his wrist, but it was nothing compared to the fire crippling his back, his wings.

His thighs seared as he tried to remain upright. Xander tugged but the Faery Stones only burned him more. He finally lost the battle. His legs buckled, knees hitting the planked dais with a
thud.
White-hot pain shot all the way into his torso, as if the wood was punishing him, too.

What kind of spell is this?

He was trapped, his magic gone. Xander swallowed the urge to scream. He couldn’t scare his wife any more than she already was.

Foolish idiot.

It’d been too easy. He should’ve known something wasn’t right.

He
had
felt it, when they’d breached the bubble warding above the Field of Light. Xander had ignored it, sure he could overcome Mikhias and Ruark and the way home would be clear.

Wretch.

Fool.

Idiot.

The words were on a loop in his head as he battled pain unlike any he’d ever experienced.

Mikhias, with Ruark on his heels, stalked over to Janet, an evil smile spread on his lips.

Xander’s stomach somersaulted and helplessness washed over him.

I have failed Janet.

Failed to protect her.

Mikhias yanked Janet away from him, and her hand slipped from Xander’s wrist. She yelped as the Fae Warrior forced her to her knees.

“Unhand her. Now!” Xander’s shout resulted in both Fae Warriors throwing their heads back in laughter.

“You are powerless, oh great one. Protector of no one,” Mikhias barked.

“Yer wrong, my friend,” Ruark said.

The dark-haired warrior frowned and threw his long plait over his shoulder. “How so?”

Ruark pointed his sword at Xander’s chest. “He’s a protector of traitors and humans. A poor one, at that.” They both found great amusement at the redheaded warrior’s jest, laughing again, and patting each other on the shoulders. Ruark flexed his wings, but Xander looked away from the iridescent skin as his own wings ached.

Janet whimpered, and Xander strained against the invisible hold on his hands. The crystal brightened, shooting a new jolt of pain up his arms, into his biceps. His shoulders jerked of their own accord and a shudder of discomfort racked his whole frame.

Pain was etched on his wife’s face, but she still didn’t push the magic that joined them away. She looked down, clutching her skirts with white knuckles.

“Do yer arms hurt, Traitor?” Ruark asked, one of his auburn brows arched.

“We could cure it. Cut them off?” Amusement rippled in Mikhias’s voice.

Janet was quietly crying, but her shoulders were square, her back straight. She looked dignified, despite their situation; his respect and love for her shot up.

Love?

Warmth spread across his chest, counteracting the pain. Xander tried to block the feeling from the bond, since it was such an ill time and place to reveal his emotions, but his magic didn’t respond.

However, if his wife felt it, she didn’t react. Nor did she look at him. The only magic he could sense was the mating bond and the spell that held him captive. Emptiness and pain surrounded him, except for Janet. Xander clung to it. Clung to her. He wished he could speak mentally with her. Reassure her. Tell her he loved her.

“Nay, the Captain said we do nothin’ until he arrives,” Ruark said.

Ice shot down Xander’s spine. It should have relieved the pain, but only served to churn panic up from his gut.

My father is coming?

As if answering a mental call, Fae Warriors flew overhead in groups of six, full formations landing next to each other, swords drawn.

Their boots hit the orange grass in line, one after another.

They stilled, holding their weapons high.

Waiting. Watching.

They would not act without command.

A great warrior, with hair as dark as midnight and a look on his face to match, landed at the center of the wings’ formations. His giant sword was already drawn. His armor was gold to denote his rank.

Father.

Xander started to shake from head to toe, despite the pain raging through his body. He swallowed hard and watched the Fae man stalk across the orange grass.

Mikhias and Ruark fell into position, one near him, the other beside Janet, and assumed respectful expressions and poses.

Even if Xander had his magic and could read the captain’s mind, he wouldn’t have needed to. Fury poured off his father’s form.

His dark hair was loose, and somehow
not
seeing it contained in a warrior braid made him even more menacing. Black hair flowed like an aura around him, anger infusing it, too. His armor shone brightly, bathed in magic, and lit up the area of his stride. Xander’s father’s magic sword was aglow. It made his already deadly skill even more sharp. Death would be the result of even a scratch from the weapon.

“Traitor,” Captain Daegus boomed before his boots hit the stairs. His armor
clinked
as he ascended. It was the only sound, other than Xander’s rough breathing filling his ears.

“Father.” Xander cursed the tremor in his voice. He couldn’t blame it on pain from the spell. Even if he’d been on his feet, he would’ve trembled before the man’s rage. At one time, fear of disappointing Captain Daegus had driven his life.

Xander had had to fight for his rank and his place among the soldiers even before he’d reached adulthood. Had had to prove himself much more so than the next Fae raised as a knight or man-at-arms. Because of the man who was glaring down at him.

“You and I share no such tie,” Captain Daegus barked.

“You may have renounced me, but you can’t renounce our shared blood.” His voice gained strength with each word Xander pushed out of his ravaged mouth. He tried to square his shoulders, but pain darted up and down his wings. However, he didn’t break eye contact with his father’s dark gaze.

Captain Daegus’s jaw tightened. “You are a
traitor
.”

His father put magic behind the barked word, and it rocked Xander to his core. He felt Janet’s whimper more than heard it.

So did his father.

The Fae Captain’s eyes darted back and forth from Xander to his wife. He said nothing, but that dark gaze narrowed.

He sees the bond.

Xander felt it in his gut.

“Get him away from the Faery Stones. King Fillan demands an audience with the
traitor
. Bring the lass.” Captain Daegus’s orders were followed without question or delay, as always.

Xander screamed when Ruark muttered a spellword and ripped his arms from the crystal. His fingers, hands, and wrists burned all the way to his elbows, as if they were flayed open. Pain ate him alive.

The wind that always surrounded the five crystals’ magic kicked up, making his skin scorch even more. He blinked and tried to focus through the pain. He expected his bones to be exposed, but when his vision cleared, he saw they were not. However, magic clung to his form, making him glow crimson. The spell hadn’t ended; it’d attached itself to Xander.

Janet sobbed, hunched over on the dais, her hands covering her face, her torso shaking.

All he saw, all he could
feel
was pain. From them both. “Lass, do it.” Xander had meant a shout, but the words came out a cracked whisper.

The hilt of Ruark’s sword came crashing down.

More pain burst from his forehead.

Then everything went black.

The flight to the palace wasn’t with the gentle care Janet was used to in Xander’s arms. The dark-haired warrior squeezed her too tightly, then dangled her precariously, laughing at her fright. Then he plastered her to the green armor of his chest plate and fondled her breasts, squeezing them until she cried out.

Screaming seemed to excite him more, so even though he was hurting her, Janet bit her lip when she was tempted to utter her desperation. She couldn’t fight him and risk being dropped, either.

Pain racked her frame, but it was the pain her husband was feeling. The redheaded warrior, as well as another light-haired one, flew with him in a net litter. She couldn’t see Xander’s face, but he was writhing against the netting, his wings bent and constricted.

Janet closed her eyes when she felt the Fae Warrior’s arousal against her back. She sucked in her cheek and bit down so she wouldn’t cry out.

He was going to rape her.

Her chest heaved as the idea sank in.

If she didn’t push away the magic of the bond, Xander would feel her pain, like she was feeling his. She could endure what they might do to her, but she couldn’t withstand
him
feeling it. Her husband probably understood their intentions, but he didn’t have to live through it, experience it with her.

Tears streamed down and were ripped away by the rushing air as she made the decision to distance herself from the man she was falling in love with.

The thought startled her, but it was true.

Nay. Not falling.

I already love him.

Her breathing became even more difficult, and it had little to do with the warrior’s arm too-tight around her waist. Janet loved Xander and they would both likely die without her even having a chance to tell him. She had to shut the magic down, or he would sense her feelings for him, same as whatever the Fae would do to her.

Crushing her eyes shut, Janet ignored the ache in her chest. She hadn’t been
alone
since the moment she’d bonded with Xander. How could she even fathom pushing away their link? She hadn’t known she’d needed it—needed
him
—until the bond had been born.

Her ring caught her eye. It was glowing a menacing red, as if it understood what was going on—and what she needed to do with the magic.

She ignored it. Janet had to endure.

Hold Fast is my clan dictate, is it not?

Janet pulled strength from some unknown place and tried her best to take a deep breath. She pictured golden rope of the bond. Her bottom lip wobbled as she imagined picking it up, as Xander had instructed. In her mind, she threw the bond away from her body. She ordered the magic’s retreat, placing it to the back of her thoughts and locking it away.

Xander’s pain from the spell lifted like a veil, gone from her; but a new—emotional—pain replaced it, making her chest burn, her heart thunder. She could already feel his withdrawal. His heart no longer beat in time with hers.

If she could have doubled over, Janet would have. Loss hit her in waves.

Her husband made a fist of the netting and hauled himself higher. He turned with an aching fragility, and even before he looked her direction, she felt him seeking her out.

When Xander’s shoulders relaxed into the litter, as if he was pleased by her decision, Janet lost the battle to fight more tears. They cascaded freely, carried away by the wind as soon as they were born.

A giant palace came into view, full of raised embattlements, turrets, and towers that sparkled in multicolor, visible in the darkness of night. Some kind of mist swirled above the actual stone, and it too glimmered.

Tremors chased each other down her spine, despite the welcoming appearance of the Fae castle, so large that Janet couldn’t see the end. The place was full of dread, not comfort.

Fae were everywhere. Men-at-arms with no wings. More Fae Warriors than she could count.

Xander screamed as they set his litter on the ground and a full formation of winged Fae surrounded him.

Janet could no longer feel his pain, but seeing it was no better.

They were in some kind of training bailey, and fear settled over her as she looked around. Fae Warriors lined all sides of the area, standing shoulder to shoulder like statues, but they all had huge swords in their grips.