Page 27 of The Deep End of Death (Twilight Lake #4)

The guards opened the cell door, expecting us to walk through. Cillian stepped forward first, but the guard with the dented helmet held out his hand, stopping him.

“You can wait in the office.” The guard told Cillian.

The redhead placed a hand on his chest. “And leave my loyal servants behind? My personal attendants? Never!”

“Personal attendants?” The guard echoed.

Cillian nodded earnestly. “They go where I go. You can’t expect me to be without my attendants.”

I expected the guard to dismiss his words as the rambling of a madman, but the armored male nodded, taking him at his word.

I rushed through the doorway, ignoring the growing pit in my stomach from the iron bars, as I raced to Shay in the corner.

“You’re a fool,” I told the Nymph as I knelt down, pulling his hand away from his stomach. His shirt was stained with blood. “You lied to me.”

The Nymph laughed, his lip coated with blood. “If only I could heal myself.”

I shook my head and wiped away a tear. “ Fecking eejit . Don’t do that again.” I warned.

Cormac rocked on his heels on the other side of the cell, glaring at Cillian Lane. “What’s this about personal attendants?” The Mer’s nostrils flared.

“How else do you expect an audience with the Dark King?” Cillian put a hand on his hip.

Shay squinted. “Is that the male from the ship?” He coughed, producing more bloody phlegm. “ Belisama’s Ballsack , what’s he going here?”

“It’s been a long night,” I said, closing my eyes.

Sensing my fatigue, Tor knelt down and placed a hand on Shay’s shoulder as he began to explain our evening in the House of Blissful Dreams.

We weren’t in the cells for long.

In fact, I’d barely closed my eyes for a moment before one of the Fae in a dark-colored robe came to the cell with a tray of food, avoiding everyone’s gaze as he deposited the meal on the floor and kicked it to the center of the cell.

“When are we going to be transported?” Cillian demanded.

The jailor reached up, rubbing the skin behind his ear. An action born of nerves. “They are readying the Silvers as we speak.”

“Readying the Silvers?” I squinted, sitting up from my position on the floor. Shay had fallen asleep, and his breathing was shallow. I could only hope that we would find medical help in Midnight.

The jailor shifted uncomfortably, avoiding looking at Cillian Lane. “The Silvers in the palace cannot be accessed easily. However, the Dark King requires all... Demons ... To be brought directly to him. It’s so rare to find such a creature; this is rather new to all of us.”

“He’s not feeling well.” I looked down at Shay. “Is there anyone that can help him?”

The jailor shook his head.

My teeth ground together. “Who hurt him?” My voice was measured, though it was growing harder to remain calm.

I had been in the library when the guards had swarmed us, but they had blended into one another.

I wasn’t entirely sure what I would do with the information once I had it, and my hands shook as the words of the stone pounded against my internal shields—demanding blood.

“Answer her.” Rainn stepped between me and the guard, his usual manners disappearing entirely, replaced by a side of Rainn I rarely saw. He seemed bigger somehow, unmoveable.

The jailor licked his lips. “I don’t know. I’ll get a painkiller sent down.”

“Do that.” Rainn’s voice was low and deadly.

The robed fae rushed from the cell as fast as his feet could carry him. Leaving the cell door open as he went.

Cormac rolled his eyes, stepped forward, and used his boot heel to close the door.

“This town is full of fecking fools.” The Merman snapped.

The jailor was true to his word and sent down a painkiller, though it did barely a thing.

Shay Mac Eoin was a Nymph. He fed on sexual energy.

As much as I didn’t want to strip off my clothes in front of the guards, Shay needed sexual energy to heal himself.

Our ragtag crew grew quiet, and I kept myself sane by monitoring the bond in my chest, connecting me to Shay.

I felt his emotions, even in sleep. It was enough to keep me calm, but barely.

I prayed that our first night together wouldn’t be our last.

I didn’t know what would happen if we were paraded before the Dark King. I had hoped we could have an audience as humble guests, not prisoners.

We needed information, and it was hard to remain on task when failing would result in one or all of us losing our lives.

I pushed my hand through my hair, wishing I could have a moment of privacy. Shay needed sexual energy to heal. I didn’t consider myself a prude, but everyone had limits. Mine involved not exposing myself to the several guards posted outside the cell.

Thinking back on it, I hadn’t cared when Shay took me in the library. In fact, he had made it hard to think of anything else save for his tongue and his cock.

My cheeks warmed, and the air filled with the familiar sweet smell of Blush—the Nymph equivalent of a lure.

Shay stirred in his sleep. His cheeks grew less sallow by the minute.

Our bond sparkled with my arousal as I imagined our time together. Then, as I recounted the library, I soon moved on to the House of Blissful Dreams, remembering how it felt to be pinned between Rainn and Tormalugh.

Cormac’s face as he watched.

I squirmed where I sat.

Shay’s breathing grew steadier.

For once, my filthy mind seemed to be a boon instead of a curse.