“Any one of them could have helped me,” she insisted, her voice straining with her heartbreak. “Any one of them could have come to see me. To speak to me. To make sure I was not left alone in the darkness. I could have forgiven themallif justoneof them had brought me a candle!”
The rawness of her anguish made me reach for her, forcing my fingers into her tight fists so I could interlace them with hers. Her skin felt too hot as if her pain was a living thing burning inside of her.
“There is nothinginnocentremaining in that place. Not to me,” Nuala hissed through her teeth. “Those who stood by are as guilty as the ones who drew my blood. They may as well have taken a blade to my skin with their own hands! And the children are tainted by cruelty that will only fester in them if they are allowed to live—”
“That does not meanyoumust be the one responsible for purging them when your god made you their—”
“They do not deserve any sympathy!” Nuala protested in frustration, and her hands began to steam in my grip as her fire magic flared inside her. She tried to turn away in shame at her outburst, but I released her hand to snatch her jaw and forced her to look at me again.
“I havenosympathy for the humans or witches, Nuala. As far as I am concerned, they are a vile scourge that has poisoned Uile Breithà and the Four Courts,” I assured her, my voice rough with my fervour. “But I care aboutyou. My hands are stained with the blood of people I was meant to protect. It is not a burden I would want for you, and you have asked me to be your guardian, so allow me to do this for you. Let me be the monsteryou need.”
All of her distrust and frustration seemed to sputter out like a choked flame. I watched in utter fascination as her pinched brows smoothed, and her frown lines softened as her lips parted. She stared at me with breathtaking eyes, one amber and the other crystalline blue, until I realized how close we were sitting. As well as the delicate feeling of her slender jaw still gripped in my calloused fingers.
She was…beautiful. But I didn’t understand why that was suddenly occurring to me or why it mattered at all.
I also noticed I was leaning over her in the assertive way that Aodhan used to appreciate. Except my former lover had been another male fey who was fully capable of fighting back when my frustration manifested physically. Nuala was a petite, mortal female, fragile and sensitive, who had every reason to be terrified of me.
Except she was not afraid. The pattering of the pulse in her throat was not a fearful reaction any more than the dilation of her pupils.
“What makes you think that I am any less comfortable becoming a monster?” Nuala asked with an arched brow. “Rian, I am their High Priestess,” she insisted when I did not reply. “Even if they cannot acknowledge it, that coven is my responsibility, and that means that it is my duty to be the one to tear them out. Root and stem.”
I stared at her as I realized that she was not at all like Aodhan who was often the victim of his own moods and would lash out on a whim. Nuala was much more like me in her temperament: methodical and intentional.
“Please, Rian,” she breathed, my name like a plea that made my flesh prickle with awareness. “I would not be able to bear it if even one Kelley witch survived me.”
I nodded, releasing her jaw and raising both her hands in mine to press gentle kisses to each of her knuckles until her tension was finally alleviated.
“Their lives are yours,” I promised, and she released a soft exhale of relief as she nodded.
“You understand?” she asked hopefully.
“I understand perfectly. Although I cannot say whether it will bring you any consolation,” I warned her.
“I am not sure that there is any consolation to be found for me after everything,” Nuala admitted with an attempt at a smile that did not reach her eyes.
Her desolation made me want to hold her against me so I could absorb some of her anguish. And it made me want to set her world on fire in the hope it might appease her appetite for righteous vengeance.
“You will see your enemies tremble before your wrath, and then we will find your peace,” I promised her.
Even if I had to carve it from the scorched earth that we would leave in our wake.
It took me some time, but I eventually found my uncle at the river with one hand clenched over his chest. Like he was applying pressure to a bleeding wound.
He did not turn, but I could see his eyes were red and swollen, his anguish palpable as he stared across the river toward the Raveina Mountains in the distance. I had to force my feet to carry me the remaining distance to his side when my guilt threatened to suffocate me.
“Are you alright?” he asked before I could even begin to apologize. “Ciaran said they… put Light magic inside of you to burn your shadows away,” he said haltingly.
I wanted to address the loss of his son, but I knew my uncle well enough to know that he would not entertain any other conversation until he knew that I was alright.
“I feel empty. I will replenish myself, but it actually feelsrather… peaceful.”
Carrick gave an intrigued grunt and nodded, his eyes never straying from those peaks where his people were.
“Perhaps now is the best time to work through all your losses while you can do so safely,” he suggested with a forced optimism, but I merely grunted. There was no need for me to go into all of that with him right now.
“Carrick—” I began, my voice an emotional croak.
“This was not your fault,” he interrupted firmly.
