Page 31 of Temptation Unleashed (Talaenian Fae #3)

Grunts and scuffles erupted, and when she didn’t feel the strike of magical balls, she pulled her arms from her head. Jerked around, to her hands and knees, and froze.

Never in her life had she ever imagined she’d witness something so utterly fearsome and beautiful at the same time.

Six huge Fae creatures rushing Thaddeus as he moved around her with ethereal grace and precision, warding off multiple attacks at once.

His blade swung and cut, never missing a target, spilling blood with strategic moves.

He pulled magic from the palm of his free hand, and it took her a few moments to realize never once did he strike with his ever-flowing power.

No, he used it for barriers, shields, protecting her, defending himself, while striking true with his bloodied blade.

All the while, he fought with effortless ease, a Fae born to battle to victory .

A stream of shadowy purple shot toward him. He spun away, toward the offender, and stole the sword from his belt.

“Bloody—”

Thaddeus had his dagger hilt-deep in his chest before the Fae could finish, blood pouring from his mouth, eyes bulging.

Rori scurried to her feet, her legs threatening to buckle beneath the weight of her body and the fear that bubbled inside her until she could barely breathe.

The ache in her chest didn’t help. Nor did a stabbing pain along her leg.

She glanced down to see a gaping wound above her knee, blood streaming down her calf.

Several abrasions bloodied both legs, but the burn came from that one wound.

A blast of air shot by her face, sending her hair awhirl. She spun around, saw no one behind her, and twisted back to Thaddeus. He had struck two more down, leaving three to go.

One vanished.

Reappeared at his back.

Rori lunged forward. “Thaddeus!”

Thaddeus spun, his dagger sinking into the Fae’s temple. He back-stabbed the sword into another Fae’s stomach, shoving the blade upward until it pierced out his back. Rori skidded to a halt, her eyes widening, lips parted on a gasp.

Magic slammed into Thaddeus’s gut, sending him to the ground, sliding over the cement.

Another Fae appeared out of thin air. His cruel mouth curled into a snarly grin, gold and grey gaze locked on her. He wove his fingers together, pulled them apart, and drew between his hands dozens of strands of pulsing black strands that hissed and sizzled.

The Fae chuckled. “This shan’t hurt but a wee bit.”

Rori stumbled back, away from her prospective end. She shot Thaddeus a desperate glance, but he was fighting off the last Fae left standing with his bare hands. Why wasn’t he using magic? Why wasn’t he trying to save himself?

She whimpered, spun, and slammed into yet another evil Fae. This one laughed quietly, his hand snapping up to her throat and squeezing.

A flashback of Rich pinning her to the van, choking the very life from her body sent her spiraling into sheer panic.

Her thoughts narrowed to one thing: survive.

She grabbed at the fingers around her throat, prying at a vise that did not budge.

His grip slowly crushed her throat, cutting off oxygen to her lungs, making her vision pulse and her heart race wildly.

Her captor turned her toward the Fae with the black strands of magic.

His cruel smile grew, his eyes flashing with satisfaction.

He raised his hands.

A plume of bright light and a rush of air blinded her.

When the flashing lights dimmed from her vision, she stared upon Thaddeus, his beautiful face twisted, his lips peeled back in a snarl, his eyes narrowed on the beast behind her.

The beast who, she only just realized, no longer held her throat, but gurgled at her back.

With jerky movements, she turned to the other Fae.

Vines of icy white magic coiled up his body, constricted around the Fae, each lethal thorn no shorter than four inches stabbing into him at multiple points.

Blood oozed from the wounds, staining his clothes and skin.

The vines wrapped around his throat and tightened. Tightened until his face turned red.

Thorns grew from the stems and slowly, torturously, pierced down into his neck.

Rori blinked several times, shock slowing her reaction. She instinctively clawed at her own throat, feeling his hand around her neck .

Fae.

Rich .

Choking her…to death.

“You took the wrong Fae for a fool, Linden.”

The quietly spoken words delivered a deadly threat, but fear had already hooked its claws into Rori. She gasped, stumbled, fell to her knees. Fought to breathe. Her throat. She couldn’t breathe.

“Nothing will stop me from taking you back.”

Fear suffocated her as she crawled aimlessly over the ground.

“You belong to me!” He fisted her hair at her nape and snapped her head back, forcing her to look up at him.

Rage turned his face maroon, lit his dark eyes into a venomous pit.

He shoved her into the room, to the kitchen table, and slammed her down, folding her over the side and driving the edge into her ribs.

She cried out, trying to push up, but his brute strength over her pinned her firmly, cheek squished to the wood, as he tore down her pants.

“I’ll make sure you remember every fucking time you leave this apartment who you belong to. ”

“No-no-no,” she wheezed, swatting at the air around her head. “Stop!”

Her body flew upward, off the ground, into the cradle of strong arms, but her past possessed her mind. She writhed and twisted, trying to break free of Rich’s hold. His…his…

She frantically looked around, seeking help. Who would help her in his apartment? Who would save her from her own nightmare?

The scene around her flickered in and out, her apartment, the bar, the kitchen table.

Cael burst out of the bar, eyes wide .

Her captor spun her around. Darkness pressed in on her, the pressure of the world collapsing.

Then, it vanished.

She bounced in the plush cushions of a sofa. She shot up and fought, swinging her arms to ward off Rich, to keep him away. Anything to escape!

“Rori!”

Rori paused. That voice. She blinked once and looked up into the face hovering over her.

Rich’s enraged face, twisted with animosity and evil.

She shoved at his bulky shoulders, shoved with all her might because her life depended on getting him off her.

Getting him away so she could run. Run and hide.

Rich grabbed her wrists with one hand and pinned them over her head. With his other hand, he splayed his palm flat between her brows. Heat, soothing, calming heat poured into her, coating every misfiring nerve in her body, relaxing her mind until Rich’s face melted away to reveal Thaddeus.

For the longest time, she stared up into his gorgeous face despite the sprays of blood, never so relieved to see him as she was now.

Sharp, labored breaths expulsed from her lungs.

The fierce pounding of her heart threatened to bruise her sternum.

But as the seconds drifted by, the reality of her situation set in.

The crease between Thaddeus’s brows deepened. His eyes clouded. His jaw tensed. He drew his hand away from her forehead, caressing his fingers over her cheek, pulling through streaks of moisture. Tears?

“Foul magic, forcing one to live their worst nightmare,” he said quietly.

His hold on her wrists loosened as he slipped a hand behind her neck.

He lifted her upright as he settled back on the sofa beside her.

His gaze lowered to her legs, his hands following.

Before she could fix her skirt, trying to hold onto a bit of modesty, Thaddeus surprisingly smoothed out the hem over her thighs.

“’Tis a method of torture, and one forbidden for most Seelie to use. ”

His hands encircled her thigh above the gaping wound.

Heat soaked into her skin, ghostly gold threads unfurling from his fingertips.

She watched in awe as the wound began to stitch together, mending tissue and flesh.

As the largest wound healed the gold threads slithered down her leg, working magic on each cut and scrape until her entire leg was healed.

He did the same for her other leg, but this time, her attention wasn’t on the magic.

Her gaze lingered on the top of Thaddeus’s head, the thick braids holding his hair from his face and coming together at the back of his head with a fancy gold hairpiece.

A few locks of hair escaped the braids, falling over his face like white-gold silk.

His long, tapered ears. The sharp angles of his face appeared more defined now.

The furrow in his brows deepened as each minute passed.

Rori lowered her gaze to the V of his open shirt. His power continued to skitter over his skin, but far more dimly, slow, sluggish. She watched his chest, realizing his breathing had turned shallow, pained.

Shadows moved along his skin, over his heart. Pulsed as if following the beat of his heart. Stretched over his pec, up to his shoulder.

“Thaddeus?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. He began to straighten up, choked back a small cough. His skin drained of color before her eyes, just as his eyes became dull. A small stream of blood escaped the corner of his mouth.

“ Tá tú sábháilte, mo storín .”

A grimace consumed his face before he collapsed forward .

“Thaddeus!”

Rori caught him before he hit the coffee table, but her smaller frame was no match for his size and strength. She struggled to lower him to the floor.

“Thaddeus, wake up!”

Footsteps hurried up behind her. She startled, but instantly calmed when Cael dropped to his knees beside her.

“What happened, Cael?”

Cael tore open Thaddeus’s shirt, revealing the angry shadow magic throbbing around two faint scars above his heart. Rori gasped, chilled at the sight of serpentine coils stretching farther and farther over his chest.

“Bloody fucking hell.” Cael flung his arm up. The furniture immediately around them shoved back, opening the space. “I’m bringing him to my room.”

Rori nodded, scrambling to Cael’s room. She pulled down the blanket and had started back to the living room when Cael appeared beside the bed, Thaddeus in his arms. He lowered his brother to the bed, perched on the side of it and ran his hands above the shadowy area.

Rori shuffled back, watching without interrupting, as Cael poured his own magic into the shadows, shrinking them, forcing them back toward the twin scars.

As the minutes passed, Cael’s arms became shaky, his hands trembling, his face pinched.

Until, at last, all signs of the shadows vanished.

Cael dropped forward, braced on a trembling arm.

He drew his hand back and forth over Thaddeus’s chest, faint spurts of color spraying from his fingertips over Thaddeus’s skin.

Rori hadn’t realized how tightly she’d held her hands beneath her chin until she unfolded her fingers and her joints ached.

“He’ll be okay, for now.” Cael sucked in a deep breath.

He shifted on the bed to face her. Worry creased his brows and clouded his eyes.

“When he was healed, those who healed him tempered his power to protect themselves. He can’t use his magic against others with intent to injure. It turns back on him.”

Rori’s gaze lowered to Thaddeus. A sleeping god. No wonder he’d used blades and not magic.

Until the end. The depth of understanding shook her to her core.

He did it to save me. Bore the consequences of using magic to protect me.

“Does he know this?”

Slowly, Cael pushed to his feet. He swayed, but caught his balance before stepping up to her.

He rested his hands on her shoulders, drawing her attention away from Thaddeus.

“There’s little my brother doesn’t know.

He’s very aware of his abilities should he possess full strength, and so are those who saved him. ”

“Yet they restrain him.”

Cael chuckled. “Yes, because they fear him. He is not one to be trifled with. And that extends to those who fall beneath his umbrella of protection.” Cael cupped the side of her face.

“Go rest. I’ve got to return to the bar and do some damage control.

Brandon is reeling over what happened and Cassy wants my brother’s head on a platter after he took you away. ”

Rori scoffed. “You let him.”

“Because”—he leaned close, his smile growing—“he finally came to his senses regarding you, my dear.”