Page 8

Ellie

I am Lady Evelyn of Móirín and the future High Lady of Levea. I am the daughter of the High Lord of Storms. Sister to Arianna, The Queen of Alastríona. I have been trained to endure. To persevere. To overcome. I will not falter. I will not fall. I have a mate. Gavin from Pádraigín , but a half-breed with Móirín’s magic in his veins has claimed my heart. I will protect Levea at any cost, even if that cost means my life. The people are everything. There is no home without them. I will remain their future. I will not allow myself to be manipulated. I will not break.

The door slammed open and an all too familiar scent had Ellie’s stomach curdling. She could still taste the dry vomit on her tongue from earlier when—when—her head spun, pounding, pounding, pounding as she tried to pull her thoughts together.

A rough rug bit into the side of her cheek and she cracked one eye open to study the maroon fibers.

She hated this rug. This room. The High Lord’s study.

It’d become her second home. Second dungeon more like. She much preferred the cold stone floors of the other one.

Candles flickered at various points in the room, none doing much to erase the darkness surrounding her. They merely made her remember things she’d rather forget. Things that caused her skin to crawl. Like the nauseating feeling of the High Lord’s magic slithering through her mind. The feel of the iron shackles as they bit into her wrists and ankles. The piercing sound of Kirian’s screams…

A shudder went through her too cold body. Goose flesh rose on her skin and her stomach rolled again, threatening to empty. No, not yet , she begged. If she didn’t move, he wouldn’t know she was awake. She just needed to stay still a little longer. She needed time to think.

Ellie cracked her eyes open again. Niall was here, though she hadn’t heard him arrive. Maybe she’d fallen unconscious again without realizing it.

The two males stood staring at one another. They always did that. No, was that right? Maybe they never did it. Too many images were swimming through her head for her to sort through. She needed Kirian. He’d help her set everything straight.

She let her burning eyes close. Just for a minute. The room spun, bending and twisting like her memories. How long had she been out of the dungeon? How long had she been in captivity? Was Kirian okay or had she done something to earn him another round of beatings?

“I’m disappointed.” The High Lord’s deep voice floated through the room and inside her head as if he were speaking directly to her subconscious. Ellie willed herself smaller, hoping to escape his reach. She didn’t want to ever feel that magic again. It always felt as though he were rooting through her mind, shifting memories as if they were loose papers laid across a desk.

Ellie could visualize the High Lord bringing a stack of his own. He’d mixed them in against her will. They were tattered, frayed at the edges, and stained with oil. But they were getting lost in the stack until she could no longer distinguish one from the other.

Ellie forced her eyes open. She couldn’t afford to cower. She needed to focus on the two figures in the room and collect information. She wasn’t helpless. They’d give her something soon. They’d slip up, thinking her too weak to fight back.

Right?

A sob tried to rise to the surface, but she battled it back. She had to find a way to escape. She would find a way to escape. She’d get back to Arianna and Rion. To Talon and her father and her country. She’d warn them about everything.

Her pulse quickened as she recalled the information, and warning bells echoed through her head. They didn’t know. They had to know. They had to know. They had to know —

“I made a mistake.” Niall’s voice. Not as sickening as his father’s, but still slick with black oil. His voice made fire burn through her core, renewed anger simmering at the surface. His tone didn’t carry an ounce of apology. He might as well have been talking about the weather.

The High Lord hummed in response and she cringed again, clenching her jaw at the sound. “You allowed yourself to get distracted.”

Niall didn’t respond right away. “I did as I was ordered and seduced the female.”

Arianna. They were talking about Arianna. The memories began swimming again, fighting to the surface. They were plotting against her. No, not just her, the entire continent. Wake up , she screamed at herself, but her body was so tired, her mind even more so.

But she wasn’t useless. She could gather information. She’d been gathering information, hoping it might prove helpful to ridding the world of this male and his ilk. Someone would come for her and when they did, she’d tell them everything.

The High Lord’s voice turned darker and Ellie swore she could feel the room move and shift. Fear overwhelmed her and she shrank into herself further. She knew they’d be able to smell it soon. She didn’t have her magic to help her.

“No, you took matters into your own hands. I specifically instructed you to bring that male to me.”

“I had the situation under control.”

“Clearly.” His tone was laced with malice, but still, Niall didn’t falter. How could he stand in the High Lord’s presence and not be afraid?

Silence stretched for so long, Ellie feared she’d fallen back into that small room within her mind. The room where the High Lord’s voice echoed from every corner, calling to her, dismantling her piece by piece only to throw her back together again. She still hadn’t recovered from the first time and he’d been in her mind dozens of times since.

She didn’t feel—whole. As if the male were stealing pieces of her and covering his tracks so she couldn’t reclaim them.

“If you’d tell me your plans—” Niall began, as if he’d had this conversation a million times over.

“I have,” the High Lord interrupted, “on a number of occasions.” He bent to pick up a log and tossed it into the fire. Sparks shot out everywhere, fireflies dotting the darkness before disappearing again. Tiny beings winked out as if they were nothing. “You always disappoint.”

Niall stood in silence, but Ellie could sense his shock even if she couldn’t focus on his face. “You’ve manipulated my mind.”

“A time or two.” Silence again. “Things might not have gone as planned, but you did manage to uncover a bit of truth I was blind to.” The High Lord adjusted his robe. Ellie didn’t understand how he could bear to wear the heavy thing when the room was so hot and stuffy.

“Which is?” Niall asked impatiently.

“I’ve always wondered why another Divine wasn’t born. I thought that perhaps the gods had forsaken the land. I failed to realize it was my own actions and hatred of the previous king that kept her out of my reach.”

“Are you going to be cryptic all day?”

Ellie thought she heard the High Lord chuckle. It held no mirth. “The male is always born first. He is required to grow to maturity in order to function as The Divine’s protector. It’s only when his magic is stable, that the gods will allow the blessed one to descend.”

“You’ve been reading your books too much.”

“Tell me it doesn’t make sense.”

“I’d rather focus on what you meant by a time or two,” Niall growled. “Who do you think you are—” Niall was cut off as the other male moved. Disappeared. He was in front of the fireplace one second, then had Niall slammed against the opposite wall the next. Long, slender fingers wrapped around Niall’s throat, squeezing hard.

A crack raced across the wall and a sconce tumbled to the floor, embers rolling out to cover the very rug she was lying on. Smoke curled from the fibers, quickly filling the room. A flame flickered to life, but neither male showed an ounce of concern.

“I am your High Lord,” he said, “and you’ll do well to remember your place.”

Niall choked and grabbed the male’s arm with both hands. His father’s arm, Ellie remembered. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins as she stared at the flames forming before her. Her eyes watered with the smoke, but it was the most clarity she’d had in days. Weeks.

Ellie scented their horrid magic crackling through the air. It reminded her of things she might have once loved. The breeze coming off an open plain. The sea air as it brought in a storm.

No longer.

Ellie tensed, ready for the two to brawl. She wouldn’t be able to give them space if they did. Her chains wouldn’t allow it. She’d be caught in the middle of—

“I apologize,” Niall finally choked out.

The High Lord released Niall and backed away. Ellie could have sworn she saw a smirk on his shadowed face as his son rubbed his neck. Gods, would it kill them to light a candle?

“You don’t mean it,” The High Lord said. Niall didn’t respond. “No matter. I raised you to be ruthless.” He sighed. “I just didn’t expect teenage level rebellion to follow you around for seven hundred years. It’s tedious.”

Silence filled the room again, along with more smoke. Ellie resisted the urge to cough. Her lungs burned, but if she made a sound, they’d know she was listening.

Niall said, his tone calm, “If you want me to capture the female, I can obtain her easily enough.”

The High Lord waved a hand. “No, you can’t. She’s with her mate and their bond has grown strong. We have to proceed carefully if we want to keep it from solidifying, otherwise, I’ll be forced to abandon this land altogether.”

He tapped a finger on his chin and turned away from Niall as if lost in his own thoughts. “I have one more thing I want to try before that happens.”

Niall opened and closed his fists several times. His jaw worked and it took several moments before he finally said, “You told me I was to be King of Alastríona. You’ve told me that since I was a child.”

“It was a truth I needed you to believe. I didn’t anticipate it taking so long for The Divine to be born into this world. She is the key to everything. If I’m to understand how to finally erase what’s been made, then I need her.”

“You’re not making sense.”

The High Lord looked at his son as if Niall were still five years old. “You are no more the rightful King of Alastríona than I am. We are nothing. Warriors. Underlings to be used and discarded. But in my new world, we will be kings.” The High Lord eyed him when Niall didn’t respond. “Perhaps this time will be different. Perhaps you are old enough to bear the burden of the truth.” Niall straightened as the High Lord approached. “I’ve tried this before. Twice. Both times, you turned against me. Understand, I won’t forgive a third.”

Ellie didn’t understand how Niall held his ground. She would have run. She wanted to run right now.

Smoke still curled in the air and a flame was spreading, slowly consuming the fabric one strand at a time.

“Tell me the truth,” Niall demanded.

A cruel smile spread across the High Lord’s face. “I plan to break the mating bond.”

Niall didn’t so much as blink. “You can’t break it.”

“I can,” his father reassured. “All I need are the first ones the bond was granted to. The Divine and her mate. With them, I can stop the curse. I can end it all. The bond is a cage. It traps Fae against their wills and puts shackles over their souls. I plan to free the world from those very shackles.”

Niall opened his mouth and closed it again, thinking through his next words carefully. “What makes you presume it’s unwilling? I’ve seen plenty of mated pairs.”

“Have you not also seen those who suffer with a refused bond? Those who want nothing to do with their mated partner, yet are cursed to live with that pull for eternity? Have you not witnessed the unhealthy relationships where males and females alike justify everything their mates have done simply because their souls are bound to them?”

Niall didn’t respond and his father turned back to face the fire, still ignoring the flame spreading through the middle of the room. His voice was softer when he spoke again. “Every once in a while, the bond gets it right. But for the rest of society, it leaves them crippled and hopeless.”

“Were you caged once?”

The High Lord shook his head. “No, but someone dear to me was and I couldn’t save her.”

Niall remained silent again, likely trying to absorb the impossible task, his mind working to sort through the how and why it was so important to his father.

“What’s the plan?”

The male’s gaze shifted to Ellie and she stiffened when their eyes met. “You’ll see soon enough.” He waved a hand and his magic swept through the room, extinguishing the flames and carrying the smoke toward the nearest window. It raced through, pushing out as if it couldn’t escape the male fast enough.

She couldn’t escape this male at all.

Ellie’s body shook and she wondered how long it’d been since she last ate. She could barely rise to her hands and knees as she tried to drag herself, chains and all, away from Niall and the High Lord.

The male smiled at her and fear settled in the pit of her stomach.

Not again. Gods, please, not again.

She didn’t want him in her head. She couldn’t bear it. She wouldn’t live if he dragged her back to that cold mental room.

Ellie whimpered when he stepped forward.

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop, dear Evelyn.” She met the end of her chains and clenched her jaw, hoping beyond hope that he might just leave her alone.

Rion had survived this. He’d suffered through the same mental prodding and come out on top. But was she as strong as him? Could she hold out and maintain a grip on her sanity?

“Don’t look at me with so much contempt. We should try being civil, shouldn’t we?”

“Go screw yourself.”

The High Lord clicked his tongue. “Such foul language in the youth of today. It’s disheartening to know our future sits in your hands.” He paused to study the burned part of the rug, then stepped over it. He reached out a hand and white-hot pain speared through her mind, twisting like a sharpened knife.

Ellie screamed and screamed and screamed. The male plunged deeper. He took her back to that room. Slammed her against the cold metal wall, then tore at her memories, swiping through them, shredding them bit by bit.

Papers flew from the desk. Some she recognized, others she didn’t. And there was a stack she could no longer distinguish from. They were all fraying at the edges. All burned and torn.

A tear slid down her face.

I am Lady Evelyn of Móirín and the future High Lady of Levea. I am the daughter of the High Lord of Storms. Sister to Arianna, The Queen of Alastriona. I have been trained to endure. To persevere. I will not falter. I have a mate. Gavin from Pádraigín , but a half-breed with Móirín’s magic in his veins has claimed my heart. I will protect Levea at any cost, even if that cost means my life. The people are everything. There is no home without them. I will not allow myself to be manipulated. I will not break.