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“Females, for the most part, are able to ignore the bond if they wish it.”
Zylah spun to face her. “And what if their mate,” she spat the word, “won’t let them? What if they’re insistent and show up at every turn despite being told they’re not wanted?” She loosed a breath. “If the bond is just another set of shackles, then I don’t want it.”
Saoirse blanched. “I’d never put you in chains.”
“You already have.”
“Zylah.”
“From the moment you decided I was yours without any consent from me, you put a collar around my neck. I’ve had enough of those and I’m not interested in entertaining the Fae idea of a love match. I loved once and that was enough.”
If Saoirse understood anything, it was the grief that flashed across Zylah’s face. She knew, not because of the warriors she’d lost, but because it was a fresh wound in her heart. One that wouldn’t heal easily.
Zylah turned toward the trees and began walking. Saoirse called. “Where are you going?”
Zylah stopped and looked up into the dreary sky. “I don’t know. Another continent maybe, where I can start over and forget.”
Forget about her previous life. Forget she’d ever been a slave. Forget about Saoirse.
Saoirse’s throat tightened. “Let me get to you safety.” Zylah glanced back over her shoulder and the defeat in her expression broke off a piece of Saoirse’s shattered heart. “Let me lead you to the safe house and when all this is over, if you truly never want to see my face again, I’ll disappear from your life.”
Zylah shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”
“I swear it,” Saoirse said and the words tasted like poison. “If my absence is what makes you happy, then you’ll never see me again.”
Chapter Seventy-nine
Rion
The rain still hadn’t let up and thick clouds blotted out the morning sun. Rion had slept for an hour at most before jolting awake from a nightmare so vivid it had him jumping to his feet and clawing at his throat. Kaylee had screamed and his mother just looked at him with understanding. They would all suffer through nightmares for a long while yet.
Rion had muttered an apology, fed the fire the last dry log, then set about freeing his magic.
He slammed the rock down on the shackle again and again and again. He’d gotten the first one off, but it had left his ankle swollen and bruised. Rion ignored the pain. It was nothing compared to the aches pulsing through the rest of his body. He could deal with a few bruises. If he freed his magic, it would give them an advantage should Niall’s warriors intercept them along the road. He’d do everything in his power to ensure Eimear stayed out of that wicked male’s grasp.
Rion glanced at his mother again, still hardly believing she was there. He prayed his magic wouldn’t alienate her. Rion couldn’t really remember how closely she’d followed the ancient texts. He remembered visiting the temple a few times but couldn’t recall if the events were isolated to holidays.
Rion hated his magic, yet they also needed its strength if they hoped to make the journey.
He winced when the rock missed his shackle and cracked against the bone of his ankle. He sucked in a sharp breath and swore, gritting his teeth against the pain. Rion wasn’t even sure how his body was still functioning. He’d been pushed hard before, but this was on another level entirely.
Rion brought the rock down again and the metal bent inward, digging into his flesh. Blood rolled into the boot, but he kept at it, pounding over and over. Kaylee watched him in horror. She’d already begged him to stop, but his mother had shushed the girl and pulled her into her arms.
She understood, too.
Now that Eimear knew Rion wasn’t a threat, she’d let her façade of strength fall and his heart ached to see her so weak.
She limped on her left leg from an invisible injury and had even tottered when she’d risen to relieve herself just moments ago. They all needed food and rest. The rain provided fresh water, a luxury certainly not lost on him.
Something in the latch clicked and Rion yanked the shackle from around his bleeding ankle and launched it into the nearby brush. He laid back to relieve the ache in his muscles. Rocks bit into his skin, but Rion ignored them, instead savoring the stretch of his lower back. He took a final breath, then sat up, ready to start on his left wrist.
The hairs on his arms rose. Rion scented the air and tilted his head to listen.
His mother had gone stiff and Kaylee peered between them confused before she began shaking.
Someone had found them.
Shouting echoed far too close and Rion was on his feet, not bothering with the fire as he grabbed Kaylee and flung her onto his back. The child gripped his shirt and they darted into the freezing rain.
