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9
RAFFERTY
Rafe hated being away from Bree. The barracks were loud and thick with the scent of sweat, ale, and desperation. As one of Taveon’s favored friends, Rafe had held a life of ease and comfort these past few decades. He’d worried about nothing other than keeping Taveon safe. Of course, that was the entire reason he’d ended up here in the first place. If Rafe was trapped in the dungeons, there was little he could do to help his friend.
Or Bree.
He ached to see her face. She must be so worried, so scared.
“Rafferty.” Lord Dagen strode through the crowd of warriors packed into the mess hall, where males and females alike were digging in to a dinner of potatoes and slop. There were too many mouths to feed for anything more than that. Rafe stiffened at the sight of the acting king, and annoyance twisted his gut. Dagen had said he’d thrown Taveon into the dungeons for the good of the realm.
Rafe doubted that was the entire truth. Lord Dagen had always yearned for power. Now he had it.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Rafe snapped. He turned back to his plate. His stomach turned at the yellowish food.
Dagen sighed and settled a hand on Rafe’s shoulder. He stiffened, and then threw that hand right off. Acting king or not, Rafe would not bow to him. “We need to talk.”
“Unless you’ve come to tell me you’ve set Taveon free, then nothing has changed. I don’t want to see your face.”
Dagen glanced around, noting the nearby fae who were openly listening. He did not look pleased. A warrior, part wilde fae at that, was defying him. It made him look bad. Good, Rafe thought. Served him right.
“You know I can’t do that,” Dagen said quietly.
“You can.” Rafe stood. “But you won’t.”
Dagen’s lips flattened. “Can we speak in private? It’s about Bree.”
Rafe sighed, jaw clenching. Damn him. That was the only thing the lord could have said that would make Rafferty listen. Dagen probably knew it, too. So Rafe shoved away from the table and followed the lord through the bustling mess hall. They exited the barracks through heavy double doors and walked out into a courtyard that was empty other than the statue of the previous king. Taveon had never knocked it down.
Dagen folded his arms. “Your paramour is going to cause some problems.”
Rafe cracked a grin. “Good.”
“It isn’t good, Rafferty,” Dagen said. “If she succeeds, she ruins everything. And if she doesn’t, she’ll end up getting herself killed.”
“You seem to have left out a few details. Succeed at what?”
Dagen gave him a dark look. “She’s just learned Taveon is in the dungeons. What do you think I”m talking about?”
Rafe shrugged. “If you came here to ask me to convince her not to try saving my oldest friend from that fate, then you don’t know me very well at all.”
“I know you well enough,” Dagen snapped. “You love the girl. The last thing you want to do is stand aside while she walks into the sharp end of a sword.”
A growl rumbled in the back of Rafe’s throat. He strode toward to the lord, hands clenching. “Are you threatening her?”
Dagen arched a brow. “Calm down. And be glad no one is around to see this. Otherwise, I’d have no choice but to throw you in there, too. I can’t have anyone think I allow a Wilde Fae to question my authority.”
Rafe just laughed. He should have known. All this time, Dagen had just been biding his time. He’d lulled them into a false sense of security with his recent actions. It was clear Dagen had a softness for Bree. Maybe that was why he’d held back, why he’d pretended to support Taveon. But now the truth was out. The walls were down. Dagen had thrown away his mask to reveal the monster he was.
“Bree is going to hate you, you know,” Rafe said. “You’re everything she thinks is wrong with the world.”
Dagen arched a brow. “She’ll understand in time. I’llmakeher understand.”
A snarl curled Rafe’s lips. “Whatever you want me to do, it’s not happening.”
“If you don’t stop her, I’ll be forced to do something.”
“You reallyarethreatening her.” Rafe charged toward him, ready for a fight. He didn’t care who Dagen was. The throne and the crown and the court mattered little to him. All he cared about was Bree.
