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He’s right. We can’t waste any time. I turn to go, and I hear something, almost like a clicking noise.
Of course, we should have thought about it. We should have known that Roanac would put some kind of failsafe in, something that would activate if anyone other than him disabled or broke the protection spell.
“Kiara!” Cain yells from behind me, and I feel Raven’s powerful, large hands shoving me with full-force out of the way.
I go careening into the wall and land hard, but I’m able to stagger to my feet.
The guys don’t.
Ropes have appeared, lashing down from the ceiling like living whips, and coil around my mates. All three are hauled up, the ropes tight around their throats, their chests, their wrists and ankles, their shoulders and thighs.
The ropes pull taught and for a second I think my mates are going to be ripped apart. I shriek instinctively in fear, and then realize that isn’t good for the All-Soul, all the other fae can sense my distress.
I try to do my best to wrestle it down, but I’m not sure how well I succeed as I see the ropes tighten around my mates, especially the ones at their throats and their chests. Already I can see bruising beginning to form around the edges of the rope where it bites into their skin. They’re being crushed, and strangled, and we still can’t rule out being torn to pieces even if it might happen more slowly than I feared at first.
All three men are trying to speak, but no sound is coming out. The ropes are too tight, they can’t draw breath.
“Phase out!” I yell.
Cain manages to give me a look that says plainly that if he could phase out, he would. Fuck. There must be some kind of enchantment on the ropes that keeps you from using your fae powers. And the men are so high up, I can’t reach them.
They’re going to die.
CHAPTER20
My heart feels like it’s tearing itself in two. Outside I can hear the clash of battle, the yells and roars. I can feel the fae in my mind as they attack. They’re doing well for now, we have regular leaders as well as myself so that it wouldn’t be one hundred percent dependent on me if I got knocked out or something, but they’re going to need my leadership. I can’t stay here.
I can’t leave my people to die and be overrun by Roanac and his shades. But I also can’t leave my mates. I can feel their pain, and I want to scream.
This is it, I realize. This is what my vision was about. This is why I was always alone. It’s because in my visions I left my mates, and I went to do what was good for all of the fae, I went to defeat Roanac and save our people from extinction.
That’s the right thing to do. I know it is. This is what I need to do as the leader of the fae. I’m the one with the All-Soul power, and I have a responsibility to take care of everyone. I can’t abandon them when they need me and if we fail because I wasn’t there I’ll never be able to forgive myself. Not that I’ll be alive for long enough to really take full stock of my regrets.
But I can’t do it. I know that this is what I have to do, but I don’t want to. I refuse. I’m not going to let that vision become a reality. I still have free will. Just because someone says I have to do something doesn’t mean I’m going to listen to them.
The ropes are getting tighter and are starting to pull the men’s limbs farther and farther apart. I can’t stand to watch them die. I won’t watch them die!
“North, I know that you said visions from Sight always come true,” I tell him, shouting up to them, “but I’m not going to let my vision happen. I won’t be alone, I’m never going to be alone again, I’m with you guys, alive or dead!”
I don’t even know exactly how I do it. I just know what I want to happen, which is that I want these goddamn ropes to unwind and leave my mates alone. Desperation wells in me so fast I choke on it, and I fling my hands out, conjuring up a glamour, showing myself what I wish was true.
The ropes unwind and fall to the ground, lifeless and devoid of magic. All three of my mates, caught off-guard, go crashing onto the floor, covered in bruises but safe and alive.
It’s just an illusion. A powerful glamour is still a glamour, it’s not real. It’s not something that is actually happening. Tears sting my eyes. I’d give anything for it to be true.
“Fuck!”
I blink, and the glamour warps and shudders, and I see that the ropes really are unwinding. North falls to the ground, gasping and coughing for breath, cursing, clutching at his chest.
Is this real? Is this actually happening? Am I hallucinating?
I rush to him. “North!”
My glamours are powerful, but I’m sure I would know the difference between my real mates and illusionary ones. I could never conjure up a glamour that was as solid and real and perfectly flawed as any of my men.
“How did you do that?” North whispers. He looks up at me in awe. “You made it happen for real.”
Holy shit.
