Chapter Twenty
Lonan
“Did that hurt, little brother?” Balor murmured softly in my ear. “He looked at you like you were nothing. Like he didn’t even know you. That must sting just a touch.”
I clenched my jaw and said nothing, sure that I would fall to my knees if I allowed myself to react at all.
Balor’s nearness made my skin crawl, his words and the look in his eyes that day by the lake still burning in my mind.
“How does it feel to see him again after all this time?” Balor whispered. “Did you hope he’d fall on hands and knees like a dog when he spotted you? It appears you’ll have to find another to slake your tender young lust on, Lonan.”
I swallowed back bile, jerking my arm behind my back to clench my fingers together tight when I felt Balor’s cold hand brush mine.
I tried to block him out, even though I could hear him breathing faster beside me now. Bile burned the back of my throat from his proximity.
I focused on Ash. I tried to remember the only time I’d been happy, when I was with him and he had loved me and trusted me. It was getting harder to even recall how I had felt, the misery hollowing out my gut more and more with each day.
“Stop staring at him,” Balor hissed furiously. “He doesn’t want you anymore. Hehatesyou.”
I ignored him. Balor didn’t know about Ash’s vow. None of them did. They didn’t know that Ash actually felt nothing for me anymore. That the moment he left this room, he’d forget ever even briefly glancing at me in here. My chest felt like it was going to collapse.
What was he doing here? Why had he come here? Terror made cold sweat break out beneath my ceremonial armour. Did he think the Brid would be kind to him because she was his mother? That meant nothing. She was as bad as the Carlin. She would keep him close only to use him—only for her own gain.
Run, I screamed at Ash in my head, staring at him even though he’d barely glanced at me once.Run, Ash. Hide.
When the Carlin stormed from the Midsith after the exchange of power, we were forced to follow her. I felt numb as I mounted my horse, my body aching to run back inside the Midsith and snatch Ash away from the Brid.
Did he think she would be any different to the Carlin? She wouldn’t. They were both terrible.
Had he just wanted to meet her? His birth mother? My heart ached for him. The woman who had raised him with his father was dead, killed by my brother. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to meet the woman who had given birth to him, as much as the thought of him with her terrified me.
The ride back to unseelie was tense and quiet, the Carlin storming ahead on her horse. The moment we crossed over the treeline, she let out a furious shriek that made my eyes twitch as I suppressed the urge to hunch my shoulders.
Our horses weren’t affected, so we rode to the palace as every unseelie fae remained frozen to the ground, staring fearfully at us as we passed. It wasn’t until we reached the base of the palace steps that their feet came unstuck. They all raced away, the land emptying in minutes as every fae hid in their homes and shops to try and escape the Carlin’s murderous rage.
To try and escape me. Because I would be the one she sent on a killing spree if she was so inclined.
As much as it made me loathe myself, I secretly hoped that her anger would stay solely focused on Ash and the Brid. We followed in silence as she stamped up the palace steps, the guards at the doors hurrying to open them in time for her to stride inside. Just as I was letting out a silent breath of relief that she wouldn’t send me to kill someone, she spun in the centre of the front hall.
“Lonan.” Her voice was a hard crack of ice, barely controlled rage trembling beneath her words. “Come here.”
Despondent acceptance soured my gut, but I kept my posture straight and unflinching as I strode towards her. I refused to wince when she snatched up my ear with clawed fingers and yanked my head down. Her breath was cold against the side of my face.
“Eliatha-Tethra de Cailleach,” she whispered, too quietly for anyone else to hear, and the power she wielded with my name made my spine go rigid. “Go to the dressmaker’s in the village. Kill the owner.”
She released my ear and stepped back. I refused to reach up and rub my stinging lobe, wondering if she’d broken the skin this time.
And I tried very hard not to acknowledge the vicious satisfaction and near rabid eagerness that flowed through me at her order.
“The owner,” I echoed, my voice flat. “The blond gancanagh, yes? Caom.” The name left me in a sneer.
“Not that one.” She waved a dismissive hand. “The other one. Dark hair, tall and skinny. Leave the blond one. We will still need someone to make clothes for the village. But the owner tried to overcharge my private dressmaker for some thread she wanted, so the greedy little pig needs to learn his lesson.”
She gave me a wide, sharp smile, bronze teeth gleaming. Patting my cheek, she added, “Get it done, blackbird,” before turning and sweeping out of the hall.
I kept my face expressionless as I turned to stride out of the palace. Bres watched me moodily as he swigged from his flask, standing beside Cethlen whose head was cocked, no doubt from trying to overhear everything our mother had said to me.
Balor’s eyes were fixed intently on me. I met his gaze and didn’t look away as I pulled the blade at my hip free, swinging it in a loose arc as I passed him. When he flinched back, I let one corner of my mouth curve into a smirk.