Page 63 of The Finest Scottish Fate

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Evie brandished the iron fire poker like a sword, keeping the silvery-haired pair of terrifyingly beautiful men at bay. With her back against the unseen barrier that kept her and Morganna partitioned off inside the solar, able to see everyone and everything but unable to make themselves seen or heard by anyone other than their captors, she flailed the iron against the invisible walls, but made no headway. It was like another dimension with a rubbery window into the real one.

“You have no right!” she shouted at the two slowly circling her.

“They dinna give a damn about what is right,” Morganna said, staying shoulder to shoulder with her. “They are Seelie. Liars of the Light. They claim to be superior and good even though their hearts are blacker than they claim the Dark Ones possess.”

“And yet ye corrupted our prince, Morganna,” the imprisoner on the right said.

“Is it his heart of which ye speak?” asked the one on the left. “Has his heart finally gained wisdom and darkened against ye?”

A familiar bellow shook the room.

“Drummond!” Evie reached for him, tried to make him hear her as he thundered into the solar, but the barrier kept her separated. She whirled about and charged at the Fae guards, stabbing and slashing with the bar of iron. “I’m going to kill you!”

They easily sidestepped her, laughing. “The wee mortal has a temper. Reckon that’s because she’s tired of being the one to sacrifice everything, and her supposed mate has had to give up nothing?” The one on the left smiled, revealing a set of sharp fangs. “We can fix that for ye, little one. Say the severing vow and return to all ye once knew in the blink of an eye.”

“You’re cheating.” Evie found it easy to ignore the temptation. The anguish on Drummond’s face as he tore through the suite, searching for her, broke her heart. She wished she could touch him, speak to him, let him know she was all right. “You’re cheating,” she repeated even louder, then jerked a thumb at Morganna. “The curse says they have to match a thousand fated mates across time. It doesn’t say you get to go along behind them and rip everything apart.” She jutted her chin higher. “So are you cheating because they’re getting so close to breaking the curse? Don’t you know the most important law of the universe?” She didn’t know if it was a law or not, but by golly, she could bluff along with the best of them. “Love conquers all. It’s more powerful than long-forgotten gods or goddesses or moth-eaten myths and legends out of some dusty old fairytale.” She thumped her chest. “Love is the most powerful force there is.”

Revealing his fangs even more, the Fae on the right chuckled. “And yet ye’ve never told yer fated mate that ye love him.” He cocked his head. “Why is that, little one? Do ye have doubts? Do ye realize ye’ve gotten a raw deal, as the mortals of yer century so aptly put it?”

“I never said I don’t love him.”

“Aye, but ye’ve never said ye do, either.”

“The words don’t always have to be said out loud. Love isn’t defined by who says I love you and who doesn’t. It’s an understanding. A look. Shared laughter. Sitting through a movie you hate, but you do it because you know the one you love adores it. It can be as simple as a comforting, companionable silence. I don’t know that I ever remember hearing my Granddaddy or Grandmama saying I love you to one another, but you’d be hard-pressed to find a pair more in love than they were. They cherished each other so much that they didn’t have to put it into words.”

She drew herself up and pointed the fire iron at the Fae. “This is ridiculous. I don’t like dealing with pawns bloated with a sense of their own self-worth. Just because your bosses, or monarchs, or whatever they are, are bored and afraid they’re about to lose a bet and look like a bunch of fools, you’re getting sent out to stir the pot and stack the odds against Craig Durness. You’re cheating.” She huffed a derisive laugh that she hoped would piss them off. “Seems to me a bunch of fairytales needs to be rewritten. I thought you weren’t supposed to be able to lie, but you’re just like a bunch of lawyers or politicians. You rely on wordplay and loopholes to cheat and twist things to your advantage. It appears the Seelie are worse than the slimiest of liars, cheats, and thieves.”

“Evie,” Morganna said in the barest whisper. “Remember, ye are mortal. I canna guarantee they’ll not attempt to harm ye.”

“Evie!” Drummond roared, tearing apart the room like a caged beast before wrapping the chains of iron around the neck of the Fae spy she’d spotted down in the hall, and yanking them tight. It was almost as though he could sense her even though he couldn’t see her. “Release her or this one loses his unlimited years, and I’ll spend all the rest of my days hunting down and destroying every last one of ye.”

“Looks like the king and queen of the Seelie are about to be short one sneaky little foot soldier.” Evie swung the iron at the nearest guard and grinned when he jumped back. “So what happens if you touch iron too long? Do you disappear in a puff of smoke or melt into a puddle of goo?”

The Fae bared his fangs and threw out his long, claw-like fingers, aiming them at Drummond. “This is what happens, my mouthy, ill-mannered little mortal.”

The room swelled, then exploded with a deafening silence that split through her head and threw her backward against the cutting corner of the stone hearth. With the wind knocked out of her, she gasped and wheezed for air while rolling to find something made of iron, anything she could use to defend herself. A warm wetness trickled down both sides of her neck. Blood. Streaming out of her ears. Come to think of it, everything was muffled. Even the sound of her heartbeat pounding inside her head sounded as though it were wrapped in cotton. She tried to push up from the floor, then fell back again, scraping her head and hands on the sharp edges of the hearth.

Morganna grabbed her by the shoulders.

Evie squinted at her, struggling to focus. Morganna’s mouth was moving, but her voice wasn’t coming out.

“Evie!” Morganna shouted, finally making herself heard. “Stay still. Ye are injured. I’ve sent Murdoch for Jadrack.”

Evie closed her eyes and dropped her head into her hands. Morganna had sent Murdoch for Jadrack. Why? But then it hit her: if Morganna had sent Murdoch for Jadrack, that meant people could see them again. “Those Fae assholes. Are they gone?” Her voice was muffled. She couldn’t tell her own volume. “Are they gone?” she repeated, trying to talk louder.

“Aye.”

Still cradling her pounding head in her arms, Evie frowned and squinted her eyes more tightly shut. What she could make out of Morganna’s tone was…off. Something was terribly wrong. Then a crushing ache in the center of her chest pushed to the forefront of all the other pains, grabbing her attention and sending a charge of terrified dread through her. “Where is Drummond? Is he all right?” She tried to lift her head.

“Griogair is watching over him. He will be fine.” Morganna caught her by the arms and kept her from moving. “Hold fast. I’m going to sift ye into yer bed till Jadrack can see to ye.”

Forcing her eyes open, Evie pushed Morganna away. “No. I have to see Drummond. I want to see him for myself.” She tried to push herself up to her hands and knees, then lost her balance and fell back. “Help me get to him. I have to see him!” Her voice sounded hollow, as if she were talking inside a barrel. “Help me, Morganna!”

“Hold fast, Evie. I beg ye.”

“I have to see him!” If she couldn’t balance on her hands and knees, then by golly, she would belly-crawl to wherever he was. She rolled to her stomach, struggled to lift her head, and fought to focus. The last she saw of him, Drummond had been just inside the door.