Page 41

Forty

Rhoswyn

I don’t remember much of the last few days. After waking up, everything is a blur. I tried to fight it, tried to break through and speak, at the very least to alleviate the worry that’s pouring down my remaining four bonds.

Yet, every word turned to ash in my mouth.

I should be down in the city, continuing the rebuilding efforts. Or in the war room, looking over our plans one last time. Instead, I find myself drifting in and out of consciousness.

My mates deserve better. My people need me to be better. I know that. I was prepared for this outcome. Or at least, I thought I was.

I was so, so wrong.

There’s some part of me that takes note of the blankets being pulled around me. Of the males crowding in on all sides, and the small pile of body parts at the end of the bed that Lore insisted would cheer me up. At least, I’m aware enough to know that four of them are with me, and that most of the dismembered pieces are penises.

I can even recognise the tugs from Drystan and answer them by sending him the Goddess’s power, though I can’t summon the energy to investigate what he’s up to.

Most of all, I’m aware of the blue fingers laced with mine, and how the touch no longer connects our souls like it once did.

But the fog is ripped apart when pain lances down my bond to Drystan, sending me bolting upright in the sheets.

What’s happening? Where is he? I cast around my garden room in a panic, but the mating bond tells me he’s far away.

“Rosie?” Jaro says, propping himself up on one elbow. “What’s wrong?”

I can’t answer him. My mouth is dry and my focus inward, avoiding the crippling void where Caed’s bond should be, and focusing on the fire that is Drystan.

All I can get from him is a sense of calculating determination and stubborn resolve.

“Drystan,” I finally croak, coming back to myself to find the four of them crowding around me on the bed. “Where is he?”

I can’t quite make myself meet the deadened turquoise eyes beside me, so I train my focus on Jaro, who’s wearing a guilty expression.

“He went to seek some advice.”

“Drink something, dragonfly.” Bree presses a warm mug into my free hand. “You haven’t eaten all day.”

“I can get you more cocks if you like,” Lore pipes up, and I belatedly realise his hat is on my head, cosy and red. “What did you think of the severed tits? I thought it was a good idea, but they just don’t have the oomph I was hoping for. At least with cocks, you can pretend to be a unicorn. Tit earmuffs don’t have the same impact.”

Whatever is in the mug is thick and warming, like soup. I take a few sips as I try to decode what he just said.

Jaro wrinkles his nose, and Bree shakes his head in exasperation. But there’s still no movement from Caed on my left. I dare a glance at him, then regret it. I hadn’t even realised that I’d started to seek them all down the bonds whenever I looked at them. Now I’m hit all over again with the blast of numbness, combined with the pure misery in his expression.

It’s because I’m already focused on that empty space that I notice the second it starts.

The mug falls from my hand, splattering me with soup as a flicker sizzles through my chest. It’s not much, less than a spark, but it returns, more forcefully than before. Tiny zaps of lightning that swell and grow, then dim again.

The fingers tangled in mine tense as the other three start barraging me with questions I don’t have the answers to. Jaro peels away the soiled covers, Bree starts checking my skin for burns…

It’s Lore who spots it first.

“Oh good! Their marks are back.”

My eyes dart down, and my jaw drops as the faintest blue lines start appearing on my wrist, tracing familiar sunbursts up my arm. The colour gets deeper and deeper by the second until it’s almost as dark as it was before. Caed flips our hands just as the last zaps tingle away into pins and needles, showcasing my mating mark on his palm.

It’s not what we had before. Compared to my other bonds, which are steadfast ropes of magic, his feels like the finest strand of lace.

But it’s something . Enough to lift the oppressive stone from my chest and allow me to take my first true breath in days.

“Not all of them,” Caed murmurs, flexing and twisting his left arm with his lips downturned.

No symbol reappears on that palm. No frames woven into knotwork spread up to his heart, and the rose that once rested there in full bloom remains painfully absent.

It’s a bittersweet consolation.

He’s my mate, but no longer my Guard. My heart mourns even as it rejoices, because if this is all we can have, I’ll take it and cherish it.

Caed disentangles our fingers, captures my chin, and kisses the living daylights out of me, making Lore whoop with excitement.

But as suddenly as the celebrations begin, they stop. His lips freeze on mine, and he draws back, surveying the room with a frown.

“Where’s Drystan?” he asks, voice rough.

The reminder stills me, and I struggle to sort through the bleary thoughts to figure that out for myself. His bond seems quiet. Relieved, but also fraught.

My wolf shifter’s breath hisses out, and he leaves the bed, pacing away from me.

“Jaro?” I ask, my voice small. “What… what did Drystan do?”

Because he’s definitely done something. He drew all of that power, experienced such pain that it resonated between us… and then this happened. That’s not a coincidence.

My wolf strokes the back of his neck. “I’m not exactly sure,” he confesses. “But he left the day after Beltaine. He was in such a rush that he revealed to the entire palace that the Lord of the Wild Hunt is a dullahan and a member of your Guard.”

I shake my head in disbelief. Drystan went to great lengths to keep both of those things private. What could’ve possessed him to act so rashly?

“He took what happened hard,” Bree murmurs, reading the confusion on my face. “He blamed himself.”

“I had plans to torture him for the rest of our lives.” Lore shrugs. “Does this mean I don’t get to do that?”

Jaro sighs. “I believe he considers spending eternity dealing with you torment enough.”

Whatever relief I felt evaporates, and I shove out of bed. I can’t gain one mate only to lose another, but Bree catches my hand.

“Does he feel like he needs our help?” he asks solemnly.

I shake my head. “He’s on his way back… I think.”

The púca nods. “Then he’d probably prefer it if you rested and ate something. You’ve been through an ordeal.”

I blow out an aggravated breath. “Something happened.”

“He’ll be back to boss us all around before we know it,” Jaro reassures me. “Besides, this morning Florian sent word that the Summer Court ships have reached the northern shore. You need to make the most of a real bed while you can.”