Page 1 of Temptation Unleashed (Talaenian Fae #3)

B lades.

Thousands of serrated edges…biting…tearing…shearing through muscles, veins, organs.

Agony. The agony .

“…coming along…healing…”

Voices. Who? Dreams. Where?

Nay.

Nightmares.

“…long do you give…?”

Darkness. So much darkness . Body…floating…excruciating …

Can’t move.

“…doesn’t leave. Keep him here…need him conscious.”

Thick, tarry darkness encompassed him, filled his lungs, his mouth. There was no distinction between sight and shade, sensation and pain.

Were his eyes open?

Did he move?

What faces belonged to those ghostly voices that filled his mind?

Where was he? What was this limbo?

Goddess, the pain !

If ’twas consciousness he suffered—this, this…

agony —’twasn’t where he cared to stay. This in-between was too much to bear.

What idea of movement he had speared razor-sharp pain through every vessel in his body.

’Twas hellfire’s river scorching and searing every bloody cell of his being, melting the very fabric of his soul.

Not dead. Death would be far more kind.

Vibrations wracked his head. Voices surrounded him in this sea of torture. Rushed. Frantic.

Hollow. Distant.

“…him more. Another pulse. Keep him awake…to bring…”

Goddess, nay! Let me die!

An unwelcome attack on his brutalized system drew ribbons of red into the blackness of his mind. Those tentacles slithered and curled, closer to where he believed he lay suspended.

Was he still breathing?

A new burst of acute agony enveloped him. The blackness beat back the red. He screamed in this realm he lay. Screamed, his soul tortured and punished.

So cold …

“Bring him back. He’s…last…to Daeanna…”

Daeanna .

The blackness suffocated the last of the red, leaving naught more than that single name to echo around him as the world of torment faded, leaving him in peace.

Scorching heat pulsed through his body, drawing him from the nothingness he’d fallen victim to. Ebb. Flow. Up. Down.

A dense haze surrounded his mind. A thick essence filled his lungs with each racking breath. His heart thundered against his skull, drowning his sense of hearing beneath a tumultuous sea of waves. His senses, muted at best, lent no aid to him in this strange, swaying state of limbo.

“You’ve awakened.”

Movement, even the slight tilt of a head that he believed was attached to his shoulders, brought a grimace to a mouth he couldn’t quite feel.

Pain radiated along his neck, or what he believed to be his neck.

’Twas hard to determine what part of his body hurt when everything hurt. When his mind remained in a haze.

Like a mortal weakling with no control over my own self.

“Thaddeus, can you hear me? ”

He blinked—at least he thought he did. Alas, he saw naught beyond the depths from where he floated in blackness.

He attempted to lick his lips, but not a drop of moisture could be felt.

Goddess, he couldn’t tell what was on his own bloody body!

When he tried to speak, to respond, naught escaped lips he could not feel.

Still, the lulling swish of blood running through his veins continued, muffling the world around him.

“How is he?”

Miserable. A single, insufficient, word.

“I’m unable to assess him beyond sensing his fluctuating consciousness. He’s yet to respond to any inquiry I’ve made.”

“What of his wounds?”

“All have healed. The poison no longer taints his blood.” Somewhere in the watery world he lay, something or someone moved. The faintest essence of air brushing his skin.

The first real sensation that he could not mistake for part of this tormenting nightmare. “I suspect he’ll come around anytime now.”

Naturally, he attempted another response. His rousing mind started to stir with questions. Where was he? Who were these men who spoke? What had become of the battle?

What had become of Daeanna ?

“Should anything change in his condition, be sure to notify me immediately. Much needs to be discussed with him pertaining to this incident.”

Pressure intensified against his chest. A stifling weight he could not fend off.

A sudden explosion of pain ripped through him, sparing no limb its intense, burning agony. His soul howled.

“What have you learned?”

He cringed and grimaced inwardly, that pain slowly subsiding as darkness crept in around him.

“He frolics with mortals, one woman specifically. His behavior hasn’t changed in decades, but he’s become more emboldened. Should we wish to succeed and hold true to Daeanna’s plan, he must be handled accordingly.”

“Aye.”

A new threat? Daeanna’s plan?

He fought against the encroaching darkness, for once not wanting it to embrace his battered mind. He needed to escape this…this languid sea of nothingness. He needed to figure out what had happened during the battle.

Move, Goddess dammit! You’re not a bloody mortal. You’re pureblooded Fae!

He tried to label each part of his body, tried to direct some command to move fingers he couldn’t find. Not in this black ocean. ’Twould be all he needed. Power. Magic. A way to break through these unseen bindings and free himself from murky waters.

The harder he fought for grounding, the deeper he sank into the blackness. A captive to the unknown following on the heels of that burst of pain. It siphoned all elements of power he hoped to use to reconnect his ethereal mind with a physical form.

Deeper, he fell.

Darker, it became.

Disorientation licked at the edge of his consciousness.

The thunderous rhythm of his heart beating within his chest became all-consuming.

Drawing him further from the living, ignoring his futile attempts and demands.

The swish of blood in his ears scorned his weakness as what was once a soothing sound turned vicious, a cacophony of mockery in tune with his heart.

The burn that had suffused him earlier turned chilly. Death’s whisper beneath his flesh.

It weakened his will to fight. Soon enough, he simply sank, allowing the darkness to swallow him whole as one thought clung to his mind.

Those cursed cross-breeds.

This is all their fault.

Groan.

A scratchy sound. A vibration that resonated inside his throat and echoed in his ears.

A response he could feel and hear in parts of his body that had been absent.

Alas, he felt his throat, felt his limbs, felt his chest and the heart beating beneath his sternum.

Testing his consciousness, he commanded his fingers to move.

To stretch. The joints resisted the motion at first, stiff from disuse, but moved .

The pads of his fingers scraped over cold, rough stone.

“Thaddeus? Can you hear me?”

No longer did he swim in languid darkness. No longer was he unable to control his own body.

He groaned again. That sound. That blessed sound!

“Thaddeus?”

“Aye.” Naught more than a raspy breath, but that single word assured him he was alive, despite whatever ailed him. That, he’d learn soon enough.

Slowly, he tried a single eyelid and found it peeled open upon his will. He commanded the other to open as well, only to find himself staring into darkness overhead.

“How do you fare?”

“Fare?” He blinked several times. “Truly?”

At last, the darkness began to subside. It melted away, exposing flickers of warm oranges and yellows. Light danced against jagged walls, unable to completely banish the shadows that swelled in obvious crevices .

With a stifled grimace, he found strength in his pitiful mortal-like body to press onto his elbows, then upright into a sitting position.

The world around him tilted and spun. The throb of his heart dulled his hearing as blood rushed to his head.

He didn’t feel himself sway or pitch until steely hands gripped his shoulders as he toppled to the side, and eased him to his back.

“Easy. You’ve been unconscious for several days. Your body’s been fighting poison.”

Thaddeus bit back a stubborn retort. A shadow crossed over him.

It took a brief moment to recognize the High Fae hovering uncomfortably close to his face, narrowed eyes observing him like he was an insect.

The flickering lights illuminating the room shimmered on the fine gold-threaded robe and white-blond hair.

Eyes so light they might make one look twice at their unnatural white-silver coloring.

“Grison will arrive in a moment’s time. He’s been anticipating your awakening.” Cecir prodded at his chest, igniting a dull ache through his left pectoral. Thaddeus growled, knocking his hand away.

“Stop…that.”

“Do you have pain in your chest?” He prodded again, this time unleashing a sharp sting when he pressed a tender area.

“Bloody bastard!” Thaddeus barked, shoving Cecir’s hand away and jerking upright against Cecir’s hovering body. He smacked the heel of his palm to his forehead as a fierce wave of dizziness threatened to knock him onto his back. Again. “Aye, it hurts.”

“A residual reaction to the iron cores of the Talaenian shafts.”

Iron cores?

Aye, right .

He was shot through by twin arrows. Left for dead on the battlefield. A sacrificial lamb.

“Where am I? What’s happened?” Taking a steadying breath, Thaddeus lowered his hand from his forehead, found Cecir standing beside him, and focused on the Fae’s gaze, a struggle to maintain if he’d ever experienced such a thing. “How long have I been unconscious?”

Hinges creaked from somewhere behind him, echoing through the small, cavernous room.

The distinct sound of steady bootsteps followed, the weight of a familiar animus pressing heavily between his shoulder blades.

Cecir’s gaze lingered on Thaddeus—was the man nervous?

—but finally lifted and settled on the approaching presence.

His brow quirked, an energy of concern stifling the air around them.