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Rion took another shaky breath and turned toward the tree where his mother and Kaylee sat.

Unsurprisingly, Kaylee watched him with pure terror on her young face. He might as well have been Niall at that moment. He hated it and hated everything he’d had to do in front of her.

His mother watched him as one watched a worthy opponent. She sized him up, taking stock of his injuries and the single long chain dangling from his wrist. He didn’t miss the way she’d tightened her grip around the child.

Monster. Demon.

His throat thickened but Rion kept his voice steady when he said, “We need to move.”

Chapter Seventy-five

Saoirse

Saoirse followed the thick crowd down the hall knowing full well what she was walking into. Just over twelve hours and Niall had figured it out. His guards were patrolling everywhere now, eyes of all shapes and sizes watching from the shadows and high rises as everyone from the manor filed into the main dining hall.

Raevina was already gone, another fact that Niall was sure to have noticed and likely only fueled the rage pouring off him.

She entered the enormous room and joined her warriors who’d been standing off to one side watching the crowd as she’d instructed. The lot of them relaxed at the sight of her. Alec had probably threatened their positions if any harm were to come to his sister. Saoirse rolled her eyes. Males and their protective instincts.

Saoirse acknowledged her second with a curt nod. Fin was a male with a level head and one who wasn’t afraid to reel her back when her temper flared too hot. She’d already informed him of the situation.

He’d keep the rest of her warriors in line should things go awry. And Saoirse fully expected them to. If Niall offered any horrible news concerning her brother or Arianna, Saoirse would leave even if she had to fight her way out. She wouldn’t let Rion suffer; the gods knew he’d endured enough.

Fin was to remain in Ruadhán along with the others from Brónach and collect as much information as possible before joining her.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. Maybe she’d made too many cautionary plans. Niall could simply want to share important news he’d recently gathered from wherever he’d visited. With any luck, maybe some of the fighting had ceased.

Zylah filed in with the other half-breeds. The doors closed and Saoirse narrowed her brows at the warriors who stood before the exits with hands on their weapons.

Shit. He definitely knew something was up. But did he suspect them all, or only one?

The crowd fell silent when Niall entered. Without the glamour, he still looked like a nearly perfect male, but his eyes and hair had lost a bit of their luster.

He marched toward the front of the room with the council padding close behind.

Everyone fell silent. Niall’s gray eyes studied those in the crowd, lingering on face after face as if he could root out the problem with intimidation alone. He stopped on hers and Saoirse met that unflinching stare with disinterest.

This male was the one who’d taken her little brother. And if she found Rion hurt, Saoirse would enjoy ripping Niall apart.

Ellie stood across the room with her half-breed and Móirín’s elite at her side. Saoirse frowned at the guards and the way their hands rested atop their weapons. They needed to be more discreet, though perhaps others would simply perceive their pensive stances as nothing more than Móirín protecting their future High Lady. She was the only heir now.

“The Divine has left us,” Niall said, his voice somehow amplified throughout the hall. Many exchanged confused glances then murmurs began flying through the crowd. Saoirse remained still, as did Ellie.

“The Divine has left,” he repeated and everyone fell silent again. “And I have been betrayed." Saoirse refused to look at Gavin. The male stood close to Niall. Too close for her to intervene should Niall lash out. She was stuck. If she reacted to save Gavin, she might be giving them all away. If she did nothing—

“I have done so much for all of you.” He shook his head, as if actually pained. “So much, and yet there are forces who would see me removed from the throne.” Niall began pacing before the council members who all stared out at the sea of faces as if they could find the ones Niall was referring to.

Saoirse risked a glance at Gavin. He stood just to the right of the council with notepad in hand. Sweat trickled down his temple. Would Niall kill him here and now, surely—wind ripped through the room like a violent storm and Saoirse grabbed for her weapon. The warriors from Brónach and Móirín did the same, filling the room with the sound of singing steel.

The currents whipped everyone’s hair and clothes around in a frenzy of colors and she gritted her teeth, ready for a fight, knowing several civilians were about to become casualties.

But instead of coming for her or Ellie or even Gavin, that current of air shot straight toward the front of the room and hit each of the four council members in the chest and shoved them against the back wall.

Saoirse’s lips parted, her face horror struck as she watched the four fall to their knees, clawing at the fabric of their clothes. Their mouths opened in silent screams and blood seeped through the front of their tunics from wounds no one could see.

Two fell over, their bodies twisting and writhing in a way that reminded her of an injured spider. One fell backward, his head colliding with the marble floor in a sickening thud. But the last one, Declan, forced himself to his feet.

He tried to run, blood dripping from where he clawed at his own throat. Niall didn’t even move as another gust of air sent the male careening back into the wall.