By the time we were done with both of my cousins, it was becoming difficult to heal them so that the fun was not cut too short. I had borne witness to lots of torture and been subjected to it even more often, but I was rather morbidly impressed with the creativity of the aes sídhe males.
It was not unexpected to me when Ciaran unveiled a vicious savagery, but I was a little surprised that Darragh was mostly content just to watch. And despite the threats that he had uttered after I killed Aodhan, I was genuinely shocked by the sadistic side that Rian unveiled. I initially assumed that he’d just been really good at controlling and concealing it from me. But as our time with my cousins wore on, it became clear to me that his grievances with them were actually very personal.
“If you want to act like a female… then I shall treat you like one.”
The odd words that Rian had snarled into Finn’s ear right before he cut off his cock had made everything crystal clear for me. Shivers of horror rolled through me. They turned into a trembling rage when Arren screamed in his brother’s defense that they had only been doing as they were commanded. My father had ordered Aodhan to be punished for his “deviant” curiosities. And then I was filled with the most bitter of regrets that my brother was not there to see his abusers finally brought to justice.
And Rian certainly made them atone.
Every hint of playfulness he had demonstrated before we began had disappeared behind a wall of wrath that was so palpable I could taste his anguish and fury in the air. The two males were unrecognizable by the time his thirst for vengeance on behalf of his lover was sated, and he finally stopped me from healing them.
We stood in silence, all of us breathing heavily from the exertion of hours of vigorous torture, and waited until both of their wheezing breaths finally stilled.
Rian released a shaky exhale, and the bloody knife fell into the dirt from his hand. Ciaran walked around me to try and place a consoling hand on his shoulder, but Rian shook his head and moved back. He lifted a shaking hand between them to show Ciaran the swaths of shadows that were weeping from his pores and swirling up his arms.
I knew his magic was prone to escaping his control if he became too emotional, and it was terribly dangerous whenever it did. But he did not seem ready to detonate, and Ciaran seemed more concerned about the welfare of his brother rather than our safety with him, so I relaxed.
After Rian composed himself, Ciaran went to the door to call in the guards. “Have a scout take their bodies to the edge of the Rowan Wood in Sumarra,” he directed.
It was a bloody and messy job to collect all the pieces of the dryads that had been carved away, but the guards were happy to assist. They wrapped what remained of my cousins in a tarp and bore it out of the yurt.
I had almost forgotten Nuala was present until she rose from where she’d been sitting at the table bearing witness to the entire sordid affair. I stared, curious how she would feel about what she had seen, but she looked shockingly unperturbed. She was so wholly focused on Rian that she walked right through the huge puddle of gore around the two empty chairs to get to him. She did not seem to care that her satin slippers and the hem of her dress had been hideously stained by blood and shit and piss.
“Do not touch him!” Ciaran attempted to warn her.
But Nuala ignored him, and Rian did not object to her touch the way he had to Ciaran’s. I still expected her to scream in pain as hermortalhands entwined with his and came into contact with those shadows. The same ones that had just been stripping dryad flesh from bone.
But Nuala was utterly unaffected. Not even as those vicious tendrils curled up her forearms to her shoulders and brushed her cheeks and chin as if… drawn to her.
She pressed against the Autumn Prince, unbothered by the fact that his tunic was soaked in gore and stained the front of her dress. Moreover, her proximity to him seemed to calm Rian, and his shadows eventually receded.
“H-how…” Ciaran stuttered, looking dumbfounded for the first time since I met him.
“I do not know,” Rian admitted, his voice weary as he stared down at where their fingers interlaced.
“Commander,” called a voice from outside the yurt.
“Enter,” Rian called back, grudgingly removing his attention from the Seer in front of him.
A tiefling male with a beautiful shade of taupe skin and sapphire eyes entered. His horns were painted gold like many of the tieflings in the camp, and his dark curls were artfully mussed. He wore a breastplate bearing the circular emblem with wings and a sword, which I knew now was a sigil for Rian’s army.
And behind him came a stunning elfin-like fey with rich ochre skin and dark green eyes that were lined in charcoal. Her dense coils of red hair formed a halo around her head and exposed her arched ears that were longer and more pointed than those of the aes sídhe. She had enormous gold hoops hanging from the lobes and many studded and cuffed piercings. She was dressed in a cream mesh wrap that barely covered her breasts as it crossed over her chest and wound around her neck, leaving her toned midriff exposed. Below the belt that was holding her dress together, the material fell open on her hips and slender thighs.She had many elaborate tattoos and gold body jewelry around both of her long legs.
I was immediately jealous. I wanted a dress like that! Although I supposed it was impractical for war.
“Thank you, Iraj,” Rian said to the tiefling who bowed and stepped aside so the female could address Rian next. “Geera,” Rian acknowledged her as she eyed his bloody tunic and the gore-soaked ground.
“I missed the fun,” she observed with a smirk.
“I am afraid you did,” Rian responded, his mask easily sliding back into place to cover the brief glimpse of pain and grieving he had displayed. “Geera is our emissary to Mionlach,” he added for me and Nuala’s benefits.
“I am pleased to find you alive, Rian. There were… whispers in Mionlach,” Geera admitted seriously.
Rian’s smile slipped a little. It was not the frightening expression he had worn whilst carving up the two dryads, but there was something equally deadly about it.
“Who whispers?”
“Yuren and Osif mostly. They insisted I come to you. They want an audienceimmediately,” she stressed.
