Page 62 of The Chains You Defy

As I woke up, holding Nayana in my arms, my thoughts strayed back to yesterday. I could still taste her on my tongue, and although everything in me yearned to refresh the memory this very instant, somewhere deep in my insides settled the certainty that I was fucked. Eroding the last real border we’d kept up had been a terrible idea indeed. And yet—why did this mistake feel so right when the sentiment was so wrong?

This tiny human had circumvented all my defenses and had burrowed herself so profoundly into my heart, where she’d ignited something within me I hadn’t encountered in almost four centuries of existence. And the moreI experienced the whole phenomenon that was Nayana, the more I got a sense of how much my life could change for the better if I made her mine. The fight against these instinctual compulsions ravaging my soul became more challenging by the minute.

Although fae constantly battled with obsessive needs of possession, be it trinkets, riches, or, for example, a plot of land, such inner demand would become even worse when another person was involved. But even taking all this into account and comparing the theory to my reality, my urges were far more pronounced than those of any other fae I’d encountered. Ever.

Of course, the unlucky fellow who was saddled with the worst primal instincts in the two worlds had to be me. Just my luck.

Then there was the human in question herself, the object of my fixation. She’d often enough emphasized she wasn’t interested in being in a relationship—what a weak word for the obsession ruining me—and for a while, her mindset had strengthened my own resolve to stay far away from her. But ever since Amalach—maybe already as early as Samhain—I could consider her reluctance only as a challenge, not as a dead end. If I ever decided to make her mine—which Ishouldn’t, but whom was I kidding?—she would leap right into my arms. Her misguided reservations would dissolve the very moment she learned of my verdict that she and I were eternal.

Nayana was the one for me, and I didn’t need the Triad or anyone else telling me so.

Soon, I’d have to inform my woman about my decision to pursue her.

A hiss freed itself as my eyes zeroed in on the fresh scar on her upper arm.

She’d gotten wounded when she’d been tortured, and the horrors done to her had left more than one fucking permanent mark.

The longer I stared at the damaged tissue, the hotter the anger burned inside of me and morphed into a blazing inferno I couldn’t ignore.

During the last days, I’d been able to disregard the call for retribution—supervising Nayana’s recovery and repairing our friendship had been my priority—but as I concentrated on the scar, the urge to maim and kill returned with a vengeance.

And I was done ignoring what was inevitable in more than one account.

Today, I’d destroy the King of Merchants.

Would Nayana be grateful? Would anyone approve?

No to both questions. But I didn’t care. Revenge was mandatory, and I was ready to deliver.

There would never be someone who could harm what was mine and live to tell the tale. This, I swore to every god and godling in existence. Even the pantheon wouldn’t be safe from my wrath if they messed withher.

Oh yes, I was in too deep. Fuck.

“Fiolar. I half expected you would bail on me.”

“Why? It’s not that you gave me a choice. You called in a favor, and no matter what my personal opinion about this giant stupidity is, I’m honor-bound to help you.”

“Whatever,” I grumbled and pulled the hood of my dark cloak over my head, making sure all my hair was safely tucked away.

In all honesty, I was surprised my general hadn’t resisted this more. A few barbed remarks didn’t count—I’d assumed he’d try to talk me out of enacting retribution. So, the decision to remind him of his sister had been the right one, after all.

Often, when it came to non-violent persuasion, having the perfect motivation to dangle over people’s heads was imperative.

“The whole place will be crawling with guards, and they’re agitated, according to Antas.”

“You have spoken to my uncle about this?”

“Yes. I’m not storming into an enemy base with little to no information. That’s your approach, not mine. And by the way, not only does your need for revenge make you sloppy, but also your ego has grown so much that you can’t take anything seriously. So, if you have the burning desire to get yourself killed, that’s on you, but you won’t drag me into your shit more than you already intend to.”

“We’re talking about a bunch of humans.”

“Yes, but we’re staying thanks to an official diplomatic permission in Ivreiana. Did that ever cross your obsessed mind?”

Huffing, I rolled my eyes. If he were in my shoes, he wouldn’t react differently, without a doubt. After all, he wasn’t witnessing glimpses of torture in her nightmares every night, and he wasn’t the one perceiving the visible and invisible scars this merchant had marred Nayana with. No, I was.

And I had an ace up my sleeve.

“Calm down. Queen Anneria knows. More so, she encouraged me, mentioning how disappointed she would be if I didn’t punish him.”