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M cColl

For a while, I am numb.

I stand frozen in the middle of the living room, staring at the door Kian walked out of, my mind struggling to process what just happened.

What was that?

How?

From holding each other all night to this.

That wasn’t him. That couldn’t have been him. And yet it was.

The cruel words he spoke, the cold indifference in his voice when he reduced what we shared to nothing more than “good sex” – that wasn’t my Kian. The fae who whispered my name when he moved inside me. Who looked at me like I was something precious and rare.

I felt it.

I felt him deep inside, and it wasn’t physical. It was more. So much more.

My chest feels hollow, scraped raw by his dismissal. The tears I’ve been trying to hold back finally spill over, leaving hot tracks down my cheeks that I angrily wipe away.

Did he need to be so cruel? So cold? Was that his way of making it easier for both of us? To burn every bridge so there would be no lingering feelings, no regrets?

But even as I try to rationalize his behavior, something inside me rebels against it.

You can’t fake what happened between us.

You just can’t fake that level of intimacy, that connection.

The way magic literally erupted from our joined bodies, the way he looked at me afterwards like I’d given him the stars themselves.

I’m sure he saw the same thing written in my eyes.

No. I wasn’t wrong about what we shared. I couldn’t have been. I was ready to tell him how I felt about him. Ready to beg him to take me with him.

Something is wrong.

Something is very wrong.

Something that made him feel like he had to hurt me to push me away.

To hell with that. The gods themselves be damned.

If Kian thinks he can speak to me like I’m some tavern wench he picked up for a quick tumble and then just walk away, he can go to hell.

I deserve an explanation. I deserve to know what changed between this morning, when he held me like I was everything to him, and now, when he treated me like I was nothing.

What? Changed?

Something isn’t adding up. Something feels completely wrong with this picture. I’m going to find out right now.

I grab my cape from the chair and stride toward the door, my jaw set with determination. Whatever game he’s playing, whatever reason he has for acting like a stranger, he’s going to explain himself, and it had better be good, or I will smite him down…so help me, goddess.

I yank open the front door, ready to chase him down, and freeze.

Lydia stands directly in front of the entrance, dressed in the dark green leathers and chainmail of the Children of the Veil. Her sword hangs at her side, and her face is grim with what looks like genuine regret.

“What are you doing here?” I look over her shoulder to the front yard and beyond.

My blood turns to ice as I take in the scene before me.

Warriors surround the house. I count a multitude of them spread across the front yard and disappearing around the sides of the building.

Some are dressed in mail, and others wear hooded capes.

They are all dressed for battle, all watching me with the focused attention of predators.

I even feel the gazes of the ones with their hoods up.

I frown. “Lydia?” My voice comes out smaller than I intended. “What…what’s going on?”

“Let’s go inside.”

“I don’t want to go inside. I have somewhere I need to be.” I look up the road, and there is no sign of Kian, even though he didn’t leave that long ago. “I need to go.”

“McColl.” She takes a step forward, her hands raised in a gesture that’s meant to be calming but isn’t helping my racing heart in the least. “I need you to go back inside. Please.” Her tone is soft and pleading.

“I need to go after Kian.” I try to step around her, but she moves to block my path. “I have to speak with him. There’s been some kind of misunderstanding, and I—”

“I’m so very sorry, but I can’t let you do that.” Lydia’s voice is gentle but firm. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But I have my orders.”

Orders. The word sucks the air from my chest. “From whom? From my mother?” Adrenaline courses through me.

It’s all wrong.

All very wrong.

Lydia’s expression answers before she can speak. The guilt in her eyes, the way she can’t quite meet my gaze – it tells me everything I need to know.

“Lydia, please.” Panic starts to rise in my chest in earnest. “It was her, wasn’t it?”

She gives one nod. “Yes.” The word is barely audible.

“Kian is in trouble. You know that, right? I have to get to him. I have to help him! I—”

“I understand your concern,” Lydia cuts me off, her voice thick with emotion.

“I get why you want to go after him. But I can’t help you.

I’m sorry. I have to follow orders. Particularly those issued by the High Mystic.

It would mean the end of my career, jail time, or worse, if I defy her. If any of us go against her.”

I look past her at the other warriors, searching for a friendly face, someone who might listen to reason. But the faces I can see all wear the same expression of grim duty. They’re here to keep me contained, and they’ll do whatever it takes to accomplish that mission. They’re following orders.

It’s all wrong.

I should never have let him leave, but it felt like I had been punched in the gut. I was so hurt in that moment that I wasn’t thinking straight. I wasn’t thinking at all.

“Please don’t think about trying to break free.

It won’t work. There are twenty out front.

” Lydia swallows hard. “And another twenty more around the back. We have been told to detain you using whatever force necessary. Your mother will be here soon to explain everything. Until then, I need you to stay inside. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.

No one likes this. None of us has a choice. ”

“You do, Lydia. You all do. There is always a choice.”

“Please, McColl.” I never thought I would see the day but her eyes well with tears that she quickly blinks back. “I can’t. I don’t.”

Forty Children of the Veil. Forty of our best warriors, all here to keep one witch – me – from leaving this house.

The magnitude of it hits me like a sledgehammer. This isn’t just about keeping me away from Kian. This is something much bigger, much more planned out. My mother orchestrated this. Every moment of it. I fell right into her trap; we both did. I’m sure of it.

What is she up to?

Is she simply going to kill one of the lost kings? Is she going to kill Kian? Or will she use him as a pawn? My heart races a little slower because I’m pretty sure it’s the latter. She won’t kill him. Not just yet. At least, I don’t think so. He is far too valuable alive.

It’s all starting to make sense.

The warm welcome. The celebration in our honor.

The alliance meeting that went too smoothly.

Everything has gone too smoothly. Her unexpected visit this morning, which just happened to separate us.

Kian’s anger. The look of betrayal I thought I saw on his face for just a second.

And now this – me trapped here while Kian walks alone into whatever snare she’s prepared for him.

Divide and conquer. It’s the oldest strategy in existence, and we fell for it completely.