Page 28

Saoirse

Saoirse and Zylah snuck through the outside gardens, watching the shadows as they bent with the torches that were barely still lit. A light shower had started minutes ago. Thick clouds overhead obscured the midday sun, making it seem much later in the day than when their mission began.

Under normal circumstances, Saoirse basked in the thrill of a mission, but with Zylah beside her, she just wanted to find Evelyn and get Zylah the hell out of here.

They crept between the old crumbling stones and walls, keeping close to the vines that crawled up through the crevices. Saoirse noted each and every one. The landscape was a perfect battleground for her should something foul decide to rear its ugly head.

Saoirse studied the gate in the distance. All they needed to do was reach it, disarm those who stood guard and wait for the bracelets to count down. Or all hell to break loose.

Conall had warned her they might be sitting still for hours and that they shouldn’t panic or rush to get into position. They had time, so long as the alarms didn’t go off.

Saoirse wanted to be there in case they did. The faster she could secure the area, the better prepared she’d be to get her brother and everyone else to safety.

Zylah crept along behind her. The two had paired off from the rest of the group that was sneaking around the opposite side of the garden. Saoirse didn’t like relying on near-strangers, but they needed the extra bodies. If they were captured, then it’d be their own fault for not paying attention.

“Remind me why I’m stuck with you again?” Zylah whispered as they rushed behind another crumbling wall. Everything looked so similar in the garden that it was difficult not to get turned around. And that was exactly why Saoirse was leaving small imprints of her magic within the greenery, just in case they took a wrong turn or someone with Pádraigín’s magic affected their runes.

Saoirse glanced around, then veered off into what might have once been a pleasant veranda. But the chairs had nearly rotted away and the wood’s stench floated through the space, mixing with the rot of everything else.

Saoirse stopped and peered up at the next level balconies. “Because your other choices weren’t ideal.”

Zylah watched too, her eyes nearly as keen as any Fae’s. “And why is that?”

“Well, you could be stuck with Arianna, which would probably be the most ideal, but then you’d have to deal with my grumpy brother.”

Another corner had them pausing, glazing around before darting past. “Or you could have been paired up with Talon and Raevina, but I think Raevina rivals Rion where decent conversation is concerned.”

“Talon is pleasant enough.” Saoirse looked at her, then refocused, but she caught Zylah’s smirk at the suggestion. “Was that jealousy?”

“No, I know where you stand with males.”

“I’m not sure you know where I stand with anything.”

Saoirse made a noise in her throat. Footsteps sounded and Saoirse grabbed Zylah, spinning them both around a wall. Saoirse pushed Zylah’s body against it with her own and covered the female’s mouth with one hand.

They waited, their breaths ragged and too loud in the dark alcove. Saoirse calmed her racing heart, watching through a tiny sliver of a crack in the stone as two guards ambled past. She expected them to be on high alert, but if anything, they appeared to keep their eyes down and move as if they wanted to be away from here as fast as possible.

Saoirse couldn’t blame them, the entire space felt as if one were walking through a graveyard.

Saoirse didn’t move even after they’d disappeared. She strained to listen to their retreating footfalls, then breathed a little easier once they vanished.

Her focus shifted to Zylah and the way the female’s body heat had begun to seep through her clothes. The female’s hands had clamped around Saoirse’s arm.

Her mate.

And this mission could very well be the last time she ever saw her.

The reply finally came to her, but Saoirse didn’t voice her words even as they echoed in her head.

I know where you stand with me.

Rejected. Again. She supposed it was a just punishment after all the pain she’d inflicted, or rather, had failed to prevent.

Saoirse removed her hand and for a tender moment, she stood there, staring at the female she might never have.

Saoirse sighed and stepped back, knowing full well the disappointment on Zylah’s face was only her own imagination. Zylah had been kind to her for kindness’s sake, nothing more. She might be attracted to Saoirse physically, but mentally, Zylah wanted nothing to do with her.

Saoirse had made Zylah a promise. To leave her alone and let her live her life however she wanted. With whoever she wanted.

Reality stung like a blade laced with poison.

“Let’s go.” Saoirse peered around the corner again. She let another sliver of her magic seep into the vines. They curled around one another, interlacing to form a triangle with a line that went straight through the middle. It blended with the rest of the structure so as to not be too noticeable. Only someone like Rion or Alec would pick up on it.

They darted across the courtyard, their footsteps light against the mossy stone, then paused again on the other side. Saoirse frowned as she studied the area. Her hands pressed against a wall and that’s when her eyes drifted to the familiar mass of vines above them.

Her symbol sat among the greenery.

Saoirse straightened, turning to look back from where they’d come. They hadn’t taken any turns. It was impossible to have gone in a circle. She’d memorized the map alongside her brother. She knew exactly how many statues and verandas they’d passed.

Too many.

She’d thought that perhaps Gavin had miscounted. It was easy to do and had happened to her before but—

“Something’s wrong.”

Zylah’s gaze roamed over to the symbol. Saoirse hadn’t been sure if the female had noticed them before now. “What do you mean?”

Saoirse turned again to study the layout. They’d passed through three sections so far, though Gavin had sketched five. She grimaced. All of them were run-down. Virtually identical. Statues of menacing Dark Fae reached their claws toward the delicate females across from them. They were all chipped, the females weeping. Many had their arms cut off at the elbows.

They were the same as the ones in the previous garden. At least … she thought they were. Something about them had shifted so they looked different, yet when she stared directly at them—

Saoirse opened her mouth to respond when sudden searing pain lanced through her side. Saoirse stumbled away, ready to reach out for Zylah when another blade swiped at her throat.

She gritted her teeth and her back slammed against the wall, distracting her enough that the same dagger plunged straight through her shoulder.

Zylah’s eyes locked with her own, the half-breed’s contorted with rage. Saoirse shoved her back, yanking the weapon from her shoulder.

“What in the seven hells are you doing?” Saoirse growled.

The half-breed’s chest heaved and she lunged again. Saoirse moved to the side, around another wall, but the air whipped up, carrying bits of dirt that stung her eyes, momentarily blinding her.

“Zylah.” The name was a warning as she stumbled back, swiping at her eyes as she tried to simultaneously listen for the female’s movements. Wind blasted into Saoirse’s chest, knocking her to the ground. She rolled, cursing again as she dodged another knife flying her way. “We don’t have time for this, if you want to kill me, do it later.”

Saoirse stared at the blurry figure before her. Dust moved at the female’s feet, reminding Saoirse of her brother’s magic. Saoirse swore the clouds above had thickened, as if smoke were blotting out the sun.

Whispers floated through the air and Saoirse quickly assessed their surroundings, wondering if a group of warriors was about to find them fighting. She needed to subdue Zylah and hide. She wasn’t about to be the one to set off the alarms.

Saoirse tugged at the bond, hoping to throw Zylah off balance. It was barely a whisper of a thing, nearly a figment of her imagination. But—it wasn’t there. No, it was further down the hall. Far away, as if—as if—

Damn it all.

Saoirse rolled away from another attack, then planted her boot in the female’s gut. Zylah, or rather, whoever this was, crumpled in on themselves before stumbling back, coughing and hacking as they struggled to catch their breath.

Saoirse checked her rune to find it intact and cursed again. If her mind was being messed with then it had to be Vairik or Niall, unless there were other guards who’d stood beside Vairik through the years. There was no telling how many others might possess his level of magic. Something they’d all taken into consideration before embarking on this suicide mission.

The female lunged again, her eyes darker and smile more wicked than she’d ever seen Zylah capable.

Saoirse dodged the blade again, then slammed her hand against the female’s elbow, pivoting before trapping her against the wall. The body beneath her struggled and for a split second, Saoirse considered slitting the female’s throat.

But what if this was a glamour similar to the one Niall had trapped Rion in? It might not be Zylah, but what if it were Arianna or Evelyn? How would Saoirse know otherwise?

The female struggled and Saoirse slammed her head into the stone wall. The scent of blood filled the space. A scent Saoirse recognized half a heartbeat later. The distraction cost her and the female shoved back, slicing her blade across Saoirse’s chest.

Saoirse only stared, her heart aching as Máili’s beautiful face stared back. But—but she’d seen—Saoirse’s eyes roamed down Máili’s neck to find a red line across her throat. Then that line began bleeding. A small drip at first, then a flood of crimson.

Saoirse stared in horror, her body shaking as the female before her smiled before her head rolled off her shoulders and hit the ground.

The whispers grew louder, coming at her like a storm.

Saoirse’s throat tightened as she held her weapon loosely in one hand. The body withered before her eyes, turning into a husk, then a skeleton, and finally crumbling into dust.

Someone walked through the doorway to Saoirse’s right. Saoirse could barely focus as she locked her gaze on Máili’s face again.

This one wasn’t smiling. She glared in anger, an incurable rage blazing in those once beautiful eyes. “Your fault,” the female said, her voice hoarse.

Then blood dripped from her throat. Máili rushed forward. Saoirse braced, but before she even made contact, Máili’s head hit the ground, her mouth still moving in silent accusation.

Saoirse’s body trembled and she stepped back, staring at the dead figure. This one didn’t disintegrate, instead, the skin peeled back as if her body were being burned by an invisible fire. Muscle turned black, then the flames reached bone, consuming everything in its path.

Another figure stepped out from the shadows of a veranda. This one with tears streaming down their face.

Máili again.

Saoirse’s breath shuddered.

An illusion.

This was an illusion.

It had to be Niall, he was the only one who knew about—

Máili stumbled forward, her body too thin and frail. “Your fault,” she whispered again before blood began trickling from the slice in her neck.

Saoirse stepped back again, her heart racing, breath too shallow. She needed to get herself together—she needed—she needed—

A violent tug on the bond yanked Saoirse from her panic and shifted her focus away from the head rolling at her feet. Fear shot down the bond next. Fear. Fear from—the bond—the bond .

Saoirse pivoted on her heel as warmth flooded her soul, spreading through her body until she could feel her limbs again. But it wasn’t that warmth alone that had her moving. It was the visceral fear pouring from her mate. From Zylah.

Saoirse sprinted down the winding passages, ignoring the figures that bled from the walls, white hands reaching, whispered echoes accusing. They didn’t matter now. Let her nightmares haunt her. As long as Zylah didn’t have to suffer at her side.

She followed the tug of the bond. Her magic raced across the ground, rising up and up. She sent them into the wall ahead and the stones exploded outward. Saoirse leapt through the hole, ducking around the still crumbling stones overhead.

More voices echoed behind her. Máili’s. Rion’s. Her mother’s.

But her mother wasn’t here. Rion wasn’t here. And Máili—tears slipped down her cheeks. She’d never given herself time to grieve or come to terms with what had happened.

Máili had been her friend. Her partner.

Spy , a dark part of her whispered. Had anything between them ever been real?

Another surge of panic pulsed down the bond and Saoirse grabbed hold of it with everything in her.

I’m coming . How long had she been under the glamour’s influence? How long had Zylah been fighting on her own?

The castle shifted, turning from smooth winding halls into straight, narrow passages lined with dim torches. Faint light trickling through breaks in the wall.

Hold on. Hold on, Zylah.

Saoirse barreled through another wall, rolling to her feet when she tripped over the broken stones. She ignored the cuts along her arm. Ignored her still wounded shoulder.

Only one thing mattered.

Zylah. Zylah. Zylah.

She’d make it. She had to make it.

Saoirse’s heart raced as the bond shortened. The voices were a frenzy now, blocking out her ability to hear. She didn’t need it. She just needed to reach her mate.

A gust of wind swept past Saoirse and a blade caught the light as she watched Zylah twisting around a knife aimed at her heart.

Zylah was covered in sweat and blood. Her blood. The smell of it pierced through Saoirse like a hot iron. Saoirse roared, even as she came face to face with a dozen Dark Fae.

Their gaping maws turned on her, fangs dripping with some dark liquid she didn’t care to identify.

The vines sprang to life and shot for the beasts, some familiar, others slightly altered in ways that made them leaner, faster, and as she watched them dodge her attacks, Saoirse could have sworn they were smarter too.

It didn’t matter. She’d brought down warriors with twice their experience. She wasn’t about to let a bunch of wild animals bring her or her mate to their knees.

Not today. Not ever.

Sturdy wooden branches ripped through the wall and howls of pain echoed off the stone as the creatures went flying.

Saoirse left them behind, their teeth snapping, then fire erupted to her left, singeing the exposed skin along her arms and hand.

She screamed from the sudden pain, but refused to stop, even as more heat trailed after her. Zylah dodged another attack, but her breath was ragged, her movements slow.

Faster , Saoirse pushed.

Four more Dark Fae prowled from Zylah’s other side, corralling her back until Zylah was pinned against the wall. She grimaced, fear consuming her as hope faded from her eyes.

Saoirse yanked on their bond and Zylah’s head whipped toward her. Recognition sparked there, thank the gods. Recognition and relief.

Saoirse drew her knives and let them fly. They sank into the creature’s thick hide, effectively drawing their attention toward the new threat.

That’s right. Look at me. Come at me.

Blood rolled down the side of Zylah’s face. Saoirse bared her teeth at the creatures, then Zylah took advantage of their distracted state and sank her knife into the nearest one’s throat.

Its teeth snapped too close to Zylah’s arm when it spun around. Still, the female managed to dodge.

An ache formed behind her temple and Saoirse’s vision went blurry. She bit the inside of her cheek, drawing blood, forcing her eyes to refocus.

Warriors exploded from the wall to her right, their swords drawn and magic tugging at their loose clothes in an angry frenzy.

Saoirse didn’t wait for a command or explanation. She spun through the Fae with all the speed and precision she could muster. Now wasn’t the time for arrogant swagger. No, this was the time to destroy everything in her path.

Another group of Fae emerged, pushing Zylah back.

Saoirse attacked, forcing those before her to go on the defensive. Zylah stepped back again then Saoirse saw the door. No, not a door, an opening in the wall, the structure crumbling from the top as if someone had blasted through it. Had Zylah done that? Had it always been there?

Zylah stepped back again. Chains rattled and Saoirse saw a renewed sense of fear cover her mate’s face. It sent Saoirse into overdrive. She fought, kicked, let her magic burst out and pierce flesh. Even so, the very air turned against her and Saoirse hit the ground, scrapping her leg against a sharpened blade.

Saoirse ignored the blood and fought to stand. She’d let a thousand blades shred her to pieces before she let Zylah be captured again.

One of the Dark Fae lunged for Zylah and the female’s foot slipped over the edge. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment. Fear, so much fear, then Zylah disappeared over the ledge.

Saoirse roared again, fighting through the bodies blocking her path. Magic and blades tore through her flesh, but she didn’t stop, even as she felt herself fading.

Chains rattled to her left. Someone stepped forward, but she lunged for the male, sinking her teeth into his throat and tearing his artery out before trying to run again.

Someone else reached for her arm, but she spun away, ripping the iron chain from his grasp. She wrapped it around his neck, yanked until his bones snapped, then kept moving.

Her vision blurred, fading, but Saoirse just kept listening for Zylah’s final scream. Kept waiting for their bond to shatter.

Then iron clamped around her wrist. A foot collided with her knee from behind. Something in Saoirse’s leg cracked, then blinding pain flew through her head and darkness engulfed her.