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Chapter13
Rafferty
Ember’s cries are daggers to my chest.
Hours have passed, and still, she sheds tears over the loss of a fae she’d only just met. That guilt—anguish—it’s evidence enough of how kind she is. Not that I’d needed to see it to believe what I know to be true.
Despite the dreams predicting her to be a woman of destruction, I can sense her goodness, her innocence, and the fact that part of it was stolen from her today makes me angrier than I’ve been ever since getting tossed into this fucking pit. The things I’ve seen since being down here—there are no words apt enough to describe them.
And still, knowing this woman is hurting brings me more agony than I care to admit.
Taranus is a plague on this realm, and it’s my fault he is where he is. My people suffer day after day—being murdered, tortured—because I made a fucking mistake and trusted the wrong person.
Flora is dead because of me.
And the woman I’ve been dreaming of for the last few weeks is trapped down here because of me.
I shake my head and force myself to stand, pacing across my cell as I try to come up with any plan at all to get her out of here in one piece. But without my magic or anyone who can come save me, I’m at a complete loss.
A door opens, and boots hammer against the stone as they descend.
“Get away from the bars,” I tell Ember.
She lifts her head, her amber eyes wide, but after a heartbeat, she nods and pushes to her feet, backing as far away as she can just as Taranus comes into view.
He smiles at me, lips pulling back from white teeth. “Rafferty. I see you’ve met my future bride.”
Ember chokes on a sob.
“So this is how you treat your betrothed?” I shoot back. “Pretty fucking sure you were raised better than that.”
Taranus chuckles. “You would know, brother.”
“You told me he was dead,” she whispers.
“He might as well be. Isn’t that right, big brother Raffe?” Taranus grins at me, and his eyes glitter with amusement. “The perfect son, finally seen for what he is. A criminal.” He spits the last word at me as though it’s poison.
“I’m only a criminal because you’re too afraid to let me out.”
Taranus rolls his eyes. “Afraid? Not even in the slightest.”
“Then let me out.”
“You only want out so you can rip me away from what is my rightful position.”
“Being king was never your right.”
“It should have been.”
“Fearghas was to be king.” Mention of the true Prince of Faerie reddens Taranus’s cheeks.
“He didn’t want it.”
“No,” I agree. “But you never would have been anywhere near the line of succession.”
“Because you’d planted yourself firmly at the top.”
“Being head of the king’s guards is what placed me at the top.” I’d spent centuries serving the rightful king—Fearghas the First. Centuries of service, and I’d failed him when his daughter betrayed him. He’d lost his crown, his throne, and we’d all become outlaws.
