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“No, that’s not it. I mean, yes I am afraid of the Ancient Fae.” She waved a hand between them. “It’s you and me. I’m afraid of getting sucked back in.” Her eyes widened as she turned back to him. “You hurt me, Ian. You’re still hurting me.”
“And you’ve done the same to me.”
“I didn’t cause the massacre.”
“But you might as well have because you enthralled me, the way the powerful fae can do. Your eyes often turned silver when we were together, the way Vojalie’s do when she’s reading people, entrancing them, taking their minds unaware. You enthralled me, Regan, keeping me by your side when I should have been caring for my people. My sister died and my two nieces. Ben lost his brother. This will always be your fault. You did something to me back then and I’ll never forgive you for it.”
He moved away from her, all his rage flowing once more in a heavy tornado through his head. He could recall what it had been like that night, flying slowly through Raven’s Overlook and seeing blood on every doorstep, children in pieces, several of his Guardsmen decapitated. The funeral pyre had been enormous and burned for two days in order to properly send all the dead to the afterlife.
He’d wept over his sister and her girls. Her husband had been killed as well. His grief had been almost unbearable.
“You’re wrong,” she countered. “I don’t have the ability to enthrall, not like that, and certainly not someone at your power level. I’ve talked this over with Vojalie and even she doesn’t know why my eyes turn silver, but it isn’t about enthrallment. You can ask her yourself.”
He flared his nostrils, his lips turning down. “So you’ve become a liar as well.”
She moved close to him once more, her fists clenched at her sides, breathing fire at him. Her dark eyes flashed her anger. “Never that, Ian, and you know it.”
He knew he was an imposing man, given his mass and his strength. But here she was, the slender fae woman, at least seven inches short than he, and she didn’t hesitate to stand up to him. She’d said she was afraid, but he knew she had a lot of natural courage and he respected her for it.
He’d never wanted to believe she was liar, but what other conclusion could he draw? Regan was one of the most powerful fae in the Nine Realms. Known as the Ruby Fae, she’d sat on the Fae Council in Tannisford Realm for at least two centuries before leaving to create the Fae Guild retreat in her home realm of Swanicott.
She was highly respected, not just in the fae community but in all the realm-folk communities of their world. She’d even helped Mastyr Zane and Olivia defeat a small army of Invictus out at the Dead Zone near Angler’s cliff in Swanicott. Regan had dispelled Margetta’s non-mist based shield which had kept a massive Invictus camp hidden for decades.
But he’d always believed her accomplishments reflected her guilty conscience, her attempts to atone for her misdeed in keeping him away from Camberlaune at a critical hour. He believed nothing less now.
“Go home to Swanicott, Regan, because I won’t allow you to head back up the gorge. Leave the war to the mastyrs.”
He turned his back to her, pulled out his cell and contacted Zane. He told Zane to hold off coming to Camberlaune because he was returning Regan to the Swanicott Fae Guild. He also asked him to contact Stone and tell him to wait until Ian was back in Camberlaune before coming to him. The last thing he wanted was a powerful mastyr like Stone getting anywhere near Regan.
~ ~ ~
Regan moved past Ian. In the space of a few minutes, their relationship had reverted to all the old issues. Besides the fact he’d called her a liar, Ian had always thrown his weight around any chance he got.
But she’d been in charge of her own life for a very, very long time. She also had a strong opinion about their current situation. Regan had been a woman of faith from the time she could remember. And in her opinion, the Goddess never did anything without a purpose, including her miraculous escape from the fortress.
Add to that the undeniable fact she’d helped Zane and Olivia demolish the Invictus camp at Angler’s Cliff, Regan felt in her bones she was meant to have a role now. But it wouldn’t be a bad thing to head back to Swanicott and ask for fae assistance to break the spell. Maybe she could persuade Zane to take her with a large portion of the Swanicott Guard back to Dark Gorge and the mist.
For now, she needed a break from Ian’s recriminations.
“Given that Margetta may be in pursuit, I’ll fly you home.”
“That would probably be best.”
“You’re not going to fight me anymore?”
“In this case, I think you’re right. Margetta might have her army out looking for me and you are a much faster flyer than I am. So, yeah, just take me back to Swanicott.”
Regan put on the new leather jacket, then collected the clothes and toiletries Olivia had sent over. She placed them in the striped violet and white satchel they’d come in. When she returned to the foyer, the door was wide open and Ian stood with his back to her. He filled the space from one doorjamb to the other.
At six-six, and built like a tank, he was a big man, very much in Mastyr Jude’s mold.
His attention was fixed on the night sky, so she stopped and allowed herself a good long look. Because his arms were bare, she had a stellar view of his ripped, corded muscles. He wore the sleeveless, black leather Guard coat which hung to mid-calf. His long, dark hair, gathered in a woven clasp, hung well down his back. She’d always loved the traditional Guardsman length.
A familiar affection rose up within her before she could stop it and her heart swelled so big she felt like her chest would explode. Damn. She’d always loved him.
And he’d always blamed her.
In a minor way, she’d faulted herself as well or at the very least both of them. They’d been so caught up in their love affair, maybe it had caused Ian to miss critical signs that a major Invictus offensive was on the wind.
