“Your illness?”
She nods. “I went to Ireland to get away from it all.” Shutting her eyes, she shakes her head angrily. “I should have just accepted the truth and died in hospice like they’d wanted me to do.”
The thought of this woman fading away, of dying in whatever hospice is, is more frightening than it should have been. “You shouldn’t think like that. Weak thoughts will lead to your death.”
Her head whips toward me. “Weak thoughts? In case you’re not up to speed, I’m trapped in a cell, have seen people killed right in front of me, and was just told that I was going to be raped—repeatedly—until I produce an heir for a psychotic king. Not quite the true love, white-picket-fence I’d once hoped for.”
My hands tighten into fists all over again, and I force myself to calm down, taking deep breath after deep breath until the rage is nothing but a steady flame. “He won’t get his hands on you, Ember. I swear it.”
“What are you going to do to stop him?” she demands. I can’t blame her for asking. Truth is, I have no fucking clue how to stop him from getting to her. I’ve failed every other time he’s taken what did not belong to him.
“I’ll think of something.”
“And why do you care? It’s not like you know me. Other than needing me to get a key, which, by the way, I can’t get while I’m in here.”
“I don’t need you for the key,” I reply, angrily. “In case you’ve forgotten, I asked you—repeatedly—to leave and not bother with me.”
“Something you know I can’t do.”
The hostility I’m sensing from her, it’s such a stark change from the woman who sat here with me all night, and it has me wondering just what lies were spread of me while she was upstairs. “Why are you angry with me?”
“You didn’t tell me you had a mate.”
Fucking assholes.“She is not someone I care to speak of.”
“Why? Because you can’t live with the guilt of leaving her to rot in the Veil? Whatever the hell that is.”
“She brought that upon herself when she all but handed my sister over to a dark fae then tried to overthrow the king.”
Ember stiffens, turning her gaze on me now. She scans my face, and I imagine she’s searching for anything that will allude to a lie. “Are you telling me the truth?”
“Yes. She was always jealous of the attention Niahm received—even more so after I caught her sneaking into the human world to bed shifters on whims. So, in retaliation for my anger, she had my sister killed and attempted to overthrow the king. As punishment, he sent her into the Veil.”
“And what the hell is the Veil?”
“You’ve heard me mention the Veil separating us from the human world?”
“Yes.”
“They’re one and the same, only that Veil is a place where supernaturals go when they die. A sort of purgatory before they pass on.”
“Where she can rot for eternity.”
“Something she quite deserved, I can assure you.”
“But you told me your mate is tied to you irrevocably.”
“Which is why he could not order her execution. She simply resides on a plane that is separate from this one. As long as I avoid the Veil and she remains there, it’s as if she does not exist to me.”
“So you can mate again?”
A muscle in my jaw twitches, and I turn away. “No. Never.”
“Why? If she doesn’t exist?”
“Because, I cannot.” Sighing, I lift a knee and rest my hand on top. “I believe I am meant to protect you. To get you to the true king,” I say, softly. “Not Taranus but a strong man you can love and be loved by in return.”
“And who the hell is that?”