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My pulse leapt. It was him.
He was standing a short distance from the treeline, but still close enough to see a fair amount of seelie land. And he was just… standing there. Unmoving. Staring at seelie.
I watched him, unease crawling over my skin. It was creepy as hell. What was he looking at? It was just an empty field beyond the trees.
I remembered what the snakes had shown me—those conversations with Lonan, both of the ones he’d told me about. If he’d managed to find Lonan from the forest, that meant he’d just been watching, waiting to see if he spotted him. Hoping Lonan would come close enough so he could.
He was standing there like a statue, just waiting for Lonan.
Shivers raced down my spine. There was something seriously wrong with him. He’d made his feelings towards Lonan clear, and he’d all but told Lonan outright that he had watched us together in the cottage, which still made me feel ill.
But this was total, unwavering obsession. This was dangerous.
This scared me.
A sound from further away in the forest behind me made me tense. Balor’s head whipped to the side, and for a split second I thought he had seen me—it looked like he was staring directly at me. But then I realised that his eyes were unfocused. He was listening, trying to work out what he’d heard.
His gaze grew unhinged. He muttered, “He’s here.”
Then he was taking off—directly towards me. I held my breath, hand creeping down to the dagger at my hip. I wouldn’t have time to grab my bow and notch an arrow, not without him seeing the movement from the corner of his eye.
But he raced right past me, too focused on what he believed was Lonan. Completely, totally focused on reaching him.
I gritted my teeth, straightening and turning to watch him run through the trees. It had taken me too long to find him. I wasn’t going to let him escape now.
I took off after him, trying to stay as quiet as possible without losing sight of him. But he was so single-minded that he didn’t seem to hear me anyway.
“Where is he?” he muttered through clenched teeth, then stopped so abruptly that I barely had time to skid to a halt and plaster myself against a tree as his head swung back in my direction, eyes like hard chips of ice as they scanned the forest.
There was silence for a long moment, before I heard him quietly say, “Lonan?”
I held my breath, trying to figure out what to do. I wasn’t sure I was good enough with my dagger to hit him if I flung it, and I wouldn’t have time to find it on the forest floor if I missed. He’d hear the creak of my bowstring if I notched an arrow and drew it. He was standing right there, so close and still, but he looked like a wild animal. Like the slightest sound would make him bolt. I had to do this carefully.
His hair was a dishevelled mess. His clothes looked filthy, like he had slept out here. There was an unsettling gleam in his eyes, pale brows drawn as he stared hard into the darkness.
When he saw no other movement, he turned back to seelie.
“I heard him,” he muttered to himself.
He took off again, slower this time, picking his way through the trees.
“He’s here somewhere.”
As I followed, I contemplated drawing my bow. Giving him a clean, quick death where he wouldn’t even know it’d happened—he’d just be gone, walking with Ankou to the afterlife in the next moment.
But he didn’t deserve that. Now that I could see his sharp, wretched face, now that I was witnessing him still unapologetically trying to get what he wanted, after everything he’d done to me, to Lonan, to my parents, my quiet determination to see this through to the end was being drowned out by rage. But not the Brid’s brand of bloodthirsty, conniving rage. This was all mine.
He stopped again between two trees, his long, thin fingers twitching by his sides as he muttered to himself. “He’s waiting for me.”
My teeth ground together in pure fury. He thought Lonan wanted him in return? Or more likely, he knew he didn’t, but just didn’t care. He’d had over twenty years of manipulating Lonan, tormenting him, battering him emotionally to make Lonan believe that he was nothing more than a “trained dog”.
The anger propelled me forward. I lunged for him, tackling him to the forest floor, not giving him time to react as he landed on his stomach with a pained thud and a shocked yell before I was ferociously yanking him onto his back and punching him square in the face.
He fought back wildly, pale eyes widening as he lifted his hands and shoved at me, clawed at my skin, his body bucking beneath me to try and throw me off. I punched him again, feeling cartilage get crushed under my fist. Blood gushed from his nose, staining his teeth dark as he bared them at me and wrapped his hands around my neck.
“Fucking dog,” he seethed, grinning rabidly as I clawed frantically at his fingers. His arms shook with the effort, but eventually I was able to tear his hands away from my throat despite the panic making my pulse race. I had to remember that I was stronger than him.
I punched him in the throat, making him choke as his breath wheezed out of him painfully. Panic flitted over his features, but before I could wrap my hands around his neck, I saw a flash of silver from the corner of my eye and felt his sword embed into the wood of my branch arm.
