The Tears of Elios (24 page)

His smile made her shiver as he hovered over her. A purple glow sparked in his eyes as he lowered his lips to her neck. They left a fiery trail up to her ear, where he whispered, “Isn't this what you want?” Then they traveled back down her neck and lingered on her collarbone.

Her skin grew warm under his touch. This kissing was more gentle, more teasing, and she liked it. She arched her head back, enjoying the feeling of his lips of her body.
Yes, this is what I want.

His kisses then turned brutal, yanking her from those blissful thoughts. Pain burned along her neck where he kissed her. His hands roamed over her body—along her legs, across her breasts, cradling her hips. He loosened the bodice of her dress and buried his face in her cleavage. He growled as his hand began pulling up her skirt.

She tried in vain to push him away. She never realized how strong he was, nor how weak she felt. “Galen, stop!”

This wasn’t how she wanted it to be with him. She wanted Galen to love her, not lust for her. Then she remembered with a gasp the faerie’s question earlier.
What is the one thing you desire above all else?

His mouth covered hers again, smothering her. Panic paralyzed her. There appeared to be no way to stop him. She whimpered in defeat. Ever since she arrived in Sylvania, she’d been miserable, a plaything for Mab and her minions. She remembered the faeries’ attack on her earlier. The same word she uttered to stop them forced its way from her lips once again. “
Halewista!
”

A flash of blue exploded from her hands once more, hurling Galen across the room. His body hit the opposite wall with a thud, and he landed in a heap on the ground. She worried at first that she had killed him. He took his time moving but reached for his head and groaned. A dazed expression formed on his mouth when he looked up at her.

Kira clutched her dress to her chest and ran out of the tree before he could touch her again. She’d never thought he would act this way. He called out after her, causing her to run faster. She couldn’t let him catch her.

She ran until her lungs burned, collapsing under a tree. When she could breathe, a loud sob forced its way out, but she buried her face in her hands.
It was never supposed to be like this
.

Through her fingers, she saw a flash of purple. Fairlin stood before her, his green face twisted in a scowl. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. “Why did you ruin it?”

“Ruin what?”

“Ruin my spell! I gave you what you wanted.”

She slapped his hand away and pressed her back against the trunk. “That's not what I want.”

“You wanted him, and I made him want you. Now I demand payment.”

“Payment for what? For me nearly getting raped?”

He crouched in front of her. “We made a deal.”

Kira shook her head. “I never agreed to that.”

His eyes narrowed into violet slits, reminding her of the strange glow in Galen's eyes. It had all been another trick.
By the Goddess, why hadn’t I seen it earlier?
“You will give me payment or else.”

“No! I told you I did not want your interference, and that is exactly the reason why.”

The faerie rocked back on his heels and laughed. “You stupid little human! Don’t you see? It was the only way someone like him would ever want someone like you.” Faster than she could blink, he pulled out a small dagger and snipped a lock of her hair. “Humans should stay with humans,” he taunted as he shrank into his diminutive form and flew away.

Her sobs choked her when she tried to suppress them, and Kira realized the futility of holding them back. Her heart was breaking. The faerie was right—it was foolish of her to fall in love with Galen. He would never love her in return.

CHAPTER 16

The sky was beginning to brighten as Ranealya stretched out in front of the fireplace. The stone floor made a cold and uncomfortable bed, but it was better than fueling his anger. She looked behind her at Gregor, who continued to snore with his arms wrapped around his pillow. This was the first sound sleep he’d gotten since they left his cottage, and she didn’t want to deprive him of it.

Her thoughts lingered on his kiss. She was surprised to admit she liked it and even more surprised with Gregor's reaction. She never thought him capable of acting that way. He always seemed too bashful to her. As she pulled her dress on, she wondered what would have happened if Aemil hadn’t interrupted them. Her body grew warm as she remembered how he felt against her—the weight of his body, the touch of his lips on her skin, the greedy way he cupped her breasts.

Stop obsessing over this! It was just a kiss
.

Her recent behavior disgusted her—it was far too human. The more time she spent with these creatures, the more she began to think like them. Yet as she changed into her disguise, her thoughts drifted once again to the prior night's events, forcing her to leave the room before she acted on them.

Duke greeted her when she entered the stables. She smiled and scratched his ears before reaching for the saddles. They should leave as soon as Gregor awoke. There were too many humans here, not to mention a member of the royal family. It was only a matter of time before they discovered what she was.

“Good morning, Ranealya,” a voice said on the other side of the horse. Ranealya flinched and lifted her eyes to see Aemil standing across from her, his arms resting on the horse’s saddle.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” she said as she cinched the saddle to the horse. He was the last person she wanted to see this early in the morning.

“No hard feelings about last night? I hope I didn't ruin the evening for you and Gregor.”

She grabbed the horse by the reins and led it out of the stall.
One down
. “Actually, you did.” She tied the reins to a post and moved to the next stall, but Aemil blocked her way.

He grabbed her arm and stared at her as if he were trying to read her thoughts. She kept her face blank to conceal any emotion from him. “I hope you have no intention of hurting him.”

She shrugged free from him. “What happens between me and Gregor is none of your concern.” She grabbed the second saddle and flung it over the horse’s back with more force than was probably necessary. She knew she needed to watch her temper, but his meddling irritated her.

Aemil crossed his arms and leaned against the stable wall. “He’s been in love before, but it did not turn out well. You see, Ingra loved his title more than him. Three weeks after he renounced his title, she married his brother.”

Ranealya tightened the last strap on the saddle but was in no hurry to leave now. The auburn-haired beauty was named Ingra. She wanted to know more, and Aemil seemed willing to share information with her. Much more willing than Gregor. “Why did he renounce his title?”

“He never agreed with the Clearances. Shortly after his father died and he was declared Duke, he had a rather, um, notable argument with Anilayus. My brother was instructing him on how to proceed with the Clearances in Akershire, and Gregor stated he would not comply with the royal orders. They exchanged words, and the argument ended with him renouncing his title. He said it was the only way he could live with his conscience.”

“And then?”

“And then he disappeared. Renouncing his title was a wise move in a certain respect—it may have saved him from execution. He went home first and asked his fiancée to join him in a place where they could live a simple life together, and you already know how Ingra responded. So he retreated to his cottage alone.”

“And buried himself in his studies,” she finished. “How long has he been hiding?”

“Ten years. The only time his name was brought up after that was the Brerton Rebellion eight years ago. There were rumors that he was a part of it, but no one knew where to find him. In the end, the leaders denied his involvement, so once again Anilayus spared him. I wouldn't be surprised if he was involved in it, though. He was good friends with Lord Brerton, and most of those implicated in the rebellion disagreed with the Clearances.” He pushed off the wall as voices began to fill the courtyard. “But I think I've said too much now.”

She followed him as he left the stables, the horses in tow behind her.

Gregor yawned when she approached him, and she waited for him to blink the sleepiness out of his eyes before she gave him the reins. “You know, there are servants who can do this for you,” he said as he took them.

“I know, but I don't trust them.” She mounted her horse and fell in line as the entire party left the keep.

Ranealya spent most of the day lost in thought. She had learned more about Gregor last night than she had in the weeks since they met. She now understood why he valued his privacy and why he had been so awkward with her at first. She was even beginning to grasp why he wanted to keep his past hidden from her. It dredged up too many unpleasant memories. And yet, she respected him more knowing about it.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t realize they were on the road to Dromore until they entered the city gates. Her musings vanished as the reality of her situation came crashing in around her like an advancing tidal wave. She pulled hard on the reins, debating on whether or not turn around and leave. Dromore was never safe for her, even in her disguise. She was too close to Anilayus and the Azekborn.

Gregor saw her hesitation and rode to her side. “What's wrong?”

“What do you mean, what's wrong?” she hissed. “We’re in Dromore!”

“Aemil offered to let us stay at the castle, and I agreed. I could use another good night’s sleep in a real bed before we go searching for the—”

“Don't say any more!” She scanned the street, waiting for the black hooded figures to ambush them from the shadows. “Did you give any thought to how I would feel being this close to the king?”

“I did, and look.” He pointed to the highest turret of the castle, which loomed high on a bluff over the city like vulture in a dead tree. “The royal flag is not flying. That means the King is not in residence, so you have nothing to worry about.”

“Easy for you to say.” She remained on guard as they passed through the city and entered the castle gates. The prospect of getting inside the walls both delighted and terrified her. She could finally get to see the inside of the castle and how to get to the King, if needed, but a trickle of fear that the Azekborn had stayed behind still hummed through her veins.

“Are you feeling well, Ranealya?” Aemil asked.

She looked around and saw she was the only one who hadn’t entered the castle. “I'm just exhausted from the day’s journey. I think I will make an early evening of it. Can I be shown to a room?”

“Her own room, if you don't mind,” Gregor added. “You can't give me the excuse that we have to share a room here.”

He laughed. “I was only trying to help, but as you wish.” He turned to a servant waiting outside the castle entrance. “Please show my cousin’s lovely assistant to a room, and see to it she is made comfortable.” He turned back to her. “I'm sorry you will not be joining us for dinner.”

“I'm not,” Gregor muttered as he passed them, causing both of them to turn their attention to him. He seemed surprised they overheard him and added, “A man can only take so much embarrassment in such a short time frame.”

“Then I should tell her about—”

“Enough, Aemil. If I want her to know anymore, I'll be the one to tell her.”

Ranealya suppressed her laughter as she followed the servant. If he only knew how much she had already learned.

Her room was small by castle standards, but still big enough to be comfortable. After all, she was just an assistant, not a noble. As soon as the servant left, she locked the door and sat on the edge of the bed. The sun was just beginning to set when she looked out the window.
If I can just make it to dawn
...

She had no difficulty falling asleep. The previous night had been a sleepless one, and her heavy eyelids closed once she lay down. It was completely dark outside when the sound of trumpets awakened her.

“Make way for the King!” someone shouted below, and her body stiffened. Her heart pounded as she jumped to her feet and peered down into the courtyard.

The torches cast dancing shadows on the figures below. She watched as the King dismounted. The firelight made his lean face appear even more sinister. Two black robed figures followed behind him. Ranealya gasped and retreated from the window, hoping they hadn’t seen her. Both Anilayus and the Azekborn were here.

She paced the room, trying to decide what to do next. She could always run away, but that would cast suspicion on Gregor, and he didn’t deserve that. She could stay in her room until morning, hoping she wouldn’t be discovered. Or she could spy on the King and perhaps have her chance to slay him. Her fingernails grew longer as she thought about ripping his flesh from his bones. Yes, Elgeus would be better off without him on the throne. But first, she needed to catch him alone. She doubted she could take on him and the Azekborn by herself.

Ranealya opened the window and slipped off her clothes before she changed into a form that wouldn’t arouse too much suspicion—a pigeon. She flew out the window and circled the castle, peering into each window that was lit. Eventually, she came across a large room where Anilayus, Aemil, and Gregor sat at a table eating dinner. The thick glass of the closed window muffled their voices. She searched for another way in and was considering flying down the chimney when a servant opened a window in the next room. Pleased with her luck, she glided toward it.

She waited until the room was empty before she entered. Heavy wooden doors prevented her from flying into the dining room on the other side. She spied a small gray mouse in the corner, and fur replaced her feathers. Once the transformation was complete, she scurried to the dining room door and squeezed herself under it.

The roaring fire made the room warm and cozy. The three men sat around the table, surrounded by a score of armed guards. The King monopolized the conversation, and Gregor’s eyes darted around the room, clearly uneasy with his current company. She hoped he regretted his decision to stay here tonight now.