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Arianna

A scream shattered the night, tearing through shadow and silence. Arianna bolted up in bed just as the warm body beside hers fled the safety of the silken sheets.

Thunder cracked outside and lightning flashed through the dark curtains, illuminating her mate and the storm circling his body.

He’d retreated to the far wall, bare chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Wild, green eyes scanned the space from top to bottom before his anguished gaze landed on hers.

Landed and didn’t settle.

Instead of a refuge for him, Arianna’s presence had become a nightmare all its own. Rion hadn’t elaborated on all the ways Niall had tormented him, but she’d pieced together the fact that Niall had used her as a focal point in her mate’s torture.

Which was exactly why he was staring at her now, uncertain of himself or his reality. She saw the doubt flicker in his gaze. He was questioning everything: her, the room, himself.

Rion might be free of his physical chains, but the damage Niall had inflicted remained. Rion’s mother, the High Lady of Nàdair, wasn’t faring much better.

Every night. Every single night since he’d escaped Niall’s grasp, Rion woke screaming. He couldn’t be reasoned with, and though he never struck out, Arianna didn’t push her luck by approaching. She knew a caged animal when she saw one. Not that her own fear helped.

Even now, as his magic snaked across the floor, Arianna’s pulse pounded in her ears. She didn’t want to be afraid, but her body betrayed her.

During the day, Rion was careful around her, keeping his magic and temper in check as best he could. But they were all on edge and she hated every second they couldn’t just relax in one another’s presence.

They were mates. The relationship between a bonded pair wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was all Niall’s fault. Or maybe it was hers for allowing herself to be manipulated. If she’d just paid attention, she might have seen through the illusions. Rion wouldn’t have suffered. Ruadhán might not have even fallen.

Her fists clenched. She should have driven that iron blade through Niall’s throat, not his stomach.

Rion’s heart slowed and his magic settled a fraction. His glazed eyes seemed to focus and Arianna reached for the bond, running a gentle fingertip along the cord that tied them together.

Her mate stiffened, his body locking up all over again.

Their bond had changed. It was stronger, deeper, than it’d ever been. Sometimes, Arianna swore she could hear Rion’s thoughts. And right now, she could feel the storm inside him as if it were her own.

She knew he could sense her fear too.

Arianna swallowed hard and rose, the cool air prickling her bare skin as the sheet fell away. She stood before him, vulnerable, just as he was.

Rion’s nostrils flared as he scented her, then wrapped his mind around the bond like a cat brushing up against its owner.

Arianna dared a step closer, watching for his retreat.

It didn’t come.

She slowly closed the distance separating them, the rain still beating on the rooftop and thunder rumbling through the sky.

Rion just stood there, staring, his eyes half full of hope and half full of fear, likely wondering what he might see next. Maybe someday he’d tell her about those nightmares. Maybe someday they wouldn’t haunt him.

Arianna lifted a hand and placed it on his chest, right over his heart, just as she’d done at the cabin. She didn’t know if Niall was able to access memories. Maybe he’d tainted all their best moments together and nothing would ever be the same.

“This is real,” she whispered in the dark. Lightning flashed through the room again. His brows were drawn together, jaw locked as he studied her. She knew he didn’t believe her. She could feel it down the bond. But Rion’s lips parted anyway as he looked her over, still seeming to wait for something to happen.

“This is real,” Arianna repeated.

Rion clasped her hand, closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead to hers. Arianna rubbed soothing strokes up and down his arms. He’d already put on more weight and his skin had regained its color.

He didn’t embrace her. Instead, Rion pressed a kiss to her forehead then walked beyond her reach. Arianna crossed her arms over her chest and watched as he tugged on yesterday’s pants and shirt.

Her heart pulled. “Stay,” she whispered. Begged.

Rion froze with one hand on the wooden bed frame. She watched his jaw work, then he slowly shook his head. An ache radiated down their bond. Please , it seemed to say.

She relented, then sent down reassurance that she wouldn’t hold it against him when he returned. How could she?

Rion fled into the rain outside, closing the door behind him. Arianna padded to the window and watched her mate break into a sprint, ignoring the downpour that soaked through his clothes in seconds. He hadn’t even bothered with shoes. He never did this early. Something about the earth against his bare feet seemed to comfort her mate.

He reached the perimeter and turned, moving beyond her line of sight.

Arianna sighed and let the curtains fall back, once again shrouding the room in darkness. She leaned her back against the wall and slid to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees before resting her head against them.

Every day.

Tears welled in her throat. Every. Single. Day.

She remembered the first night he’d run. She’d feared he wasn’t fully awake and that he’d wind up hurting himself or someone else.

He hadn’t.

She followed him the second time to be sure. By the third, she simply stood by the window, checking the bond to reassure herself he was still alive.

He never acknowledged her. Never pulled back in comfort and Arianna had eventually just let him be.

A tear slid free.

She knew he wasn’t doing it to hurt her. His actions during the day proved his devotion. But her mate was in pain and she couldn’t do anything to comfort him.

Twenty-five days.

Twenty-five days since the fall of Ruadhán. Twenty-five days since her sister’s disappearance.

Arianna wiped the tears away and pulled herself up. She’d done enough wallowing. She couldn’t allow herself to break down again. For Rion’s sake and for Ellie’s.

Arianna dressed, pulled on a cloak, and marched out into the pouring rain. It battered against her hood, and she pulled the material tighter. Her guards stood to attention, ready to follow their queen anywhere.

They reported to her father and one had likely already run off to tell their High Lord that his daughter was up and moving. Her father never seemed to sleep. Not that she was one to judge. Sleep only seemed attainable in the stolen hours between meetings.

Talon claimed she was pushing herself too hard. Rion said she didn’t have to shoulder the responsibilities alone. Arianna briefly wondered what Ellie might say. Her throat tightened and emotion swelled through her chest again. She stamped it down. No more.

A light flickered in the window of a little building down the street that served as their temporary kitchen. Those running it were always up early, preparing breakfast for the masses, the half-breeds included. Arianna refused to let anyone show favoritism, especially where meals were concerned. Between her father’s and Saoirse’s resources, there were plenty of supplies and more arriving every day.

They were rebuilding, forming a new life one step at a time. She just hoped Niall didn’t show up to tear it all down.

Arianna stepped inside and a fresh wave of heat washed over her. Those preparing the breakfast plates welcomed her when she removed her hood. Water pooled at her feet and Arianna grimaced, half wondering if she should grab a towel to clean it up.

She likely wouldn’t be the last one trekking water inside, though.

“Good morning, My Lady.” A female with a broad smile, full figure, and wild brown curls greeted her from one of the stoves. She set down a large paddle laden with fresh rolls, and Arianna’s mouth watered at the scent.

“Morning.” Arianna returned.

“I have everything wrapped up and ready to go.” The female crossed the room and pulled out two small boxes. She stuffed a few fresh rolls into another before approaching, then hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want someone to carry these for you?”

“Thank you. But I can manage.” Arianna took the boxes, feeling the heat from the fresh meals inside. “I appreciate it.”

The female bowed her head slightly. “Anything for you.” Her smile fell. “Have there been any changes?”

Arianna averted her gaze. “Not really, but Saoirse is hopeful.”

The female wiped her hands on her apron. “Perhaps a little taste of home would do her some good. Have Lady Saoirse make a list of her mother’s favorite meals. Perhaps I can work something out.”

Arianna looked around the room, watching the volunteers flit between pots, stirring and adding ingredients before returning to chop or knead something else.

“I think you have your hands full with enough.”

The female waved her off. “Nonsense. If there’s something I can do to help, I’d like to. It’s not every day a High Lady resides in our presence.”

Never mind the fact that Brónach’s ambassador, Móirín’s High Lord, and their queen were there too.

Arianna shifted the boxes. “I’ll ask.”

The female beamed. “Off you go then. We don’t want that growing cold.”

Arianna pulled her hood up and wrapped her cloak around the boxes, then she darted back outside.

Her guards followed, ever her silent, watchful guardians as she moved through the dirt streets at a brisk pace.

Arianna veered toward the outskirts, squinting through the dark for a sign of her mate in the distance. He never went far, but having him out in the storm still made her uneasy.

A few candles flickered in various windows, but the world was mostly silent, as if the storm were a famous musician and had taken center stage and no one dared to interrupt.

Arianna sloshed through the puddles toward the single house that stood at the end of the short road.

Guards patrolled from a distance, all ready to defend their once lost High Lady. Candles illuminated every window. Saoirse never let them go out. Because the second The High Lady had been safe, she’d nearly lost her mind.

The first time had been violent, with her screaming and kicking and clawing at any who drew near. She’d almost gouged out a male’s eye, screaming for Niall to come fight her himself.

Thankfully, Arianna had been able to heal the guard, but as far as Eimear’s mind went, there was nothing to be done.

The healers claimed it was a normal result of isolation. They were confident, given enough space and time, the High Lady would make a full recovery. Their words gave Arianna hope for her mate as well.

Arianna padded up the stone stairs on silent feet. She didn’t knock and Saoirse came to the door quickly, cracking it open enough for her to slip inside. She knew her father’s guards didn’t like it, but it was better for everyone if they gave Eimear space.

Arianna’s presence never seemed to bother the female. Neither did Zylah’s or the healers’, so long as they were all female. After the incident with the guards, the only male who ever entered the space was Rion. The little house was a refuge of sorts, at least until they could figure out what to do with her.

Arianna didn’t know why she did it, but she’d made a habit of bringing Eimear and Saoirse breakfast. Zylah always brought lunch and dinner, though Zylah never lingered. Arianna still hadn’t gotten around to asking about their strained relationship. Not that it was any of her business. There were too many other things that required her attention anyway.

Saoirse and Arianna silently crossed the small living space and entered a second bedroom on the right. Saoirse gently closed the door, then pressed her back against it and sighed.

Arianna set the food on a small table and shrugged out of her cloak. She kept her voice to a hushed whisper. “Long night?”

Saoirse rubbed her temples. “She just fell asleep about an hour ago.” Arianna noted the bags under Saoirse’s eyes, then followed her gaze to the window. “How is he?”

Arianna plopped into the chair, feeling her own exhaustion wash through her. “He was up early.”

The two females had bonded over their loved one’s shared pain. Neither knew what to do aside from being present when they were needed. It never felt like enough.

“When do you think this ends?” Arianna asked.

Saoirse grabbed the kettle from the middle of the table and poured them both a cup before sinking a bag of tea leaves into each.

“When Niall is dead.” She handed one to Arianna and Arianna wrapped her fingers around the warming mug.

“What happens if the High Lord is involved too?”

“Then we take him out as well.”

“Do you think it’ll be that simple?”

“Nothing in war is simple.”

“Do you think Rion can handle it?”

Saoirse fell silent, eyes flicking to the window. “I think he needs it.” Arianna watched her carefully, waiting for her to say more. “When we marched to Ruádhan, both he and our mother were fine. It’s this sitting around and waiting that’s driving them both insane.”

“They’re not the only ones.”

Saoirse looked back at her, then to her own cup. “Maybe we’ve waited too long.” Her fingers drummed against the side. “We’ve gathered little to no information and there’s no telling if those seeking it have been manipulated by Pádraigín’s magic anyway.”

“So what do we do now?”

Saoirse shook her head. “Always seeking answers from someone else. I thought I told you to stop that.”

“You’re an ambassador with far more experience than I have. Call it seeking council.”

Saoirse smirked, sipped her tea, and said, “Perhaps you are learning.”

She had been thanks to Saoirse. In the hours before dawn, the female had taken to teaching her all the things that would be required of her as a queen. How to speak, when to listen, and most importantly, when to act.

Arianna had been trying to implement all of them while dealing with the aftermath of Ruádhan’s fall. The issues with the slaves. The discourse between half-breeds and the Fae. The increased need for supplies to house and feed the masses. The nobles and their endless demands. Trying to locate her sister. The Dark Fae that were suddenly roaming the land at night.

Arianna sighed and stared down into her cup, watching the leaves that’d fought their way free and now floated on the surface. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

They’d been discussing The High Lady’s relocation for the better part of a week.

“She needs to be back in Nàdair. I think the familiarity will help, but it’s getting there that will prove problematic.” Because of her nightmares and the fact that Saoirse would have to go with her. “I can have my second remain in my place and give him the authority to make decisions on Brónach’s behalf.”

“Rion still doesn’t want her to go.”

“No, Rion just wants to come with us.” It was true, he wanted to keep his mother safe. He wanted to keep Arianna safe and at the same time he wanted to hunt down Niall and rescue Ellie. But he couldn’t do it all at the same time.

“I’m sure if you’re—” A high-pitched scream jolted Arianna enough that the cup slipped from her hands and shattered all over the wooden floor. Tea went everywhere, splashing up Saoirse’s legs, but the female was already out of the room, sprinting for the door across the small living space. Arianna followed.

They found Eimear pressed against the far wall, her eyes wild and teeth bared. She hissed when Saoirse entered the room and Arianna remained in the doorway.

Eimear’s heart beat so hard and fast that Arianna wondered if she would pass out again. Eimear’s hand went for the iron around her wrist, but instead of ripping it off, as Arianna had seen her do, she spun it in nervous circles. Eimear had commanded Saoirse to put another bracelet around her ankle, one that couldn’t be easily removed. Just in case.

“It’s me,” Saoirse whispered as if she were calming a wild animal. It reminded Arianna of Rion. The fear. The uncertainty. Tears welled to the surface and Arianna had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep them from falling.

Saoirse crept closer and lowered herself to one knee before her mother. She gently took the female’s hand and Arianna watched the tension leave Eimear’s shoulders.

Then the front door burst open. Arianna stepped aside as Rion swept in, soaked from head to toe. His breath was ragged as he took in the scene. His mother. Saoirse. Her. He rested a gentle hand on Arianna’s shoulder, met her gaze, then brushed past and into the room.

Eimear dropped her head into one hand and clenched her other fist, struggling to ground herself to the present.

Arianna’s heart swelled, then Rion’s arms were around his mother and Eimear clung to both her children as if they were her anchors to the world.

She understood why Rion was so reluctant to let Eimear travel without him. Sometimes, he was the only one who could bring her back.

Pain lanced through Arianna’s chest and she backed away. She wasn’t needed here. Not in this moment. Two steps, then she slipped into the rain, letting it wash away her own haunted memories.