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RAFFERTY
Sleeping is pointless.
As I lie in the dark beside Ember, I can do nothing but process what could likely be our last evening together. My hope is that it takes Ridley weeks—months even—on our side to complete what he needs to on his.
Then he will return for us, and I will have to place my hope in Ember’s will to survive outweighing the disease killing her.
I roll to my side and trail my fingers down the side of her face. She doesn’t stir, her expression relaxed in whatever peaceful dreams she’s experiencing.
Never, in my entire life, have I felt a love this potent.
This powerful.
As if the fate of the very world hinges on it.
Which is in direct contrast with everything I’ve ever known of fae and mates. Ailis should have been the final one for me. When I lost her, I was cursed with the inability to find love again, yet here is Ember.
And Ailis is little more than background noise in my heart.
Truthfully, she has been since a few months after she was banished.
Outside, something crashes. I sit up, more curious than concerned until an ear-piercing scream splits the otherwise silent evening. I jump out of bed and pull on my trousers as Ember clutches the blankets to her chest.
“What is it?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly as I rush toward the bed. After kissing her noisily, I say, “Please stay inside.”
She nods and climbs out of bed to begin dressing.
Another scream. Heart hammering, I rush outside and into complete chaos.
I’m not two fucking steps from the entrance to the tent where I just left Ember when a fae drops down in front of me. He’s large—even by my standards—and boasting a leather kilt with slits around the front.
Leathers that haven’t been worn in our world for centuries. He swings a massive battle-ax, and I drop to the ground, barely missing being beheaded. Rolling forward, I swing my own blade, cutting his left leg off at the ankles.
A deafening roar splits the sky as he tumbles backward.
Wasting no time, I jump up and drive my blade down into his chest.
He coughs. Sputters. And then falls silent.
I race forward. All around me, tents are already burning. My Rebellion fights with courage, though, even against an unknown enemy.
These men do not belong to Taranus. That much is easy enough to see.
Dozens of them rain down upon us.
My chest seizes, lungs scalded thanks to the smoke billowing around me.
“Rafferty!” someone screams.
I spin, ripping my dagger from its sheathe as I do. As soon as I see the man rushing toward me, I send it flying. The hilt shakes when it meets its mark—right between the eyes of my enemy.
He falls backward, and I retrieve my blade, drying it on my pants as I continue forward, still attempting to keep the tent in view.
I’m torn.
I need to protect Ember, but there’s no way I can get her out of here safely. Not with all the chaos and without my wings. My only hope is a fae who can dematerialize.
