RAFFERTY
Blood splatters against my dirt-streaked chest as I march through the Rebel camp. Around me, tents are being erected each day as more fae join our cause to de-throne Taranus and all those who have supported him.
The Rebels move out of my way as I stalk toward my tent.
“Raffe!”
I don’t even bother glancing at Fin. “Find me Taranus,” I snarl, marching through the fabric door and into my private space. Here, I stop, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. There are no remnants of Ember. No proof that she was even here save for the memories I use to cling to what little sanity I have left.
Three days.
She’s been gone for three days, and so far, I’ve found no other opening to her world. With the Veil sealed, there’s no way to get to her. No way to stop Conary from—rage snaps and I spin, slamming my fist into the thick pole holding the tent in place.
It sways ever so slightly, and my knuckles burn.
The things I’m going to do to that fucker when I find him will make all other dark fae look like children.
Heading straight toward my desk, I retrieve a washbowl and sit down on the floor. After pulling a dagger from my waist, I press the sharp tip into my flesh and flay my arm open from elbow to wrist. The pain is nothing to me now, a necessity to keep me grounded when I want to burn the world to the fucking ground.
It’s ironic, really, that my visions had me worried it was Ember who would bring the flames when I’m so hell-bent on turning this place to ash.
“Raffe?”
“In here,” I say, leaning my head back as the blood continues to drain from my body. With each droplet, I regain a shred more of my barely leashed control. A single shred that may mean the difference between me embracing the darkness and maintaining control until I have Ember in my arms again.
Heelean comes into view, and her golden eyes narrow. Concern is etched on her face as she rushes to my side. “You’re going to bleed to death you eejit,” she snaps as she reaches for a towel and starts to wrap my arm.
“Leave it,” I tell her. “It’s the only way I can maintain control.”
“Then you’d better find another way,” she snaps. “Or there’s going to be no man left to rescue her. Are you so daft to believe you’ll be anything but a liability should you be so weak from the blood loss you cannot even hold a blade?”
Rescue her.My chest tightens. “There’s no rescuing her.” Voicing my greatest fear is a massive hit to my pride, but it’s also the only logical outcome. “In her current state, there’s no way she’d be able to fight him off, Heelean,” I choke the words out.
“He wouldn’t have killed her,” she whispers and rests a hand on my shoulder. “He needs her alive.”
“And how does that bloody matter?” I croak out. “You and I both know there are things far worse than death. And Conary—Conary of all people…”
She purses her lips and shakes her head sadly because she knows I’m right. Conary butchers without thought— “We have to believe she’s okay,” she interrupts. “That someone over there helped her. Maybe she was able to get away from him herself.”
But even in my broken state, I can hear the lack of conviction in her tone.
She knows as well as I do that men like Conary are willing to do anything to get what they want. And he wants Ember. He’ll slaughter as many humans as he needs to in order to ensure he was the one to take her.
“Have faith in her, Raffe. She is not as weak as Conary believes.”
“I know she’s not weak,” I snarl. “But she is sick, Heelean. She is dying. And back there, the disease is no longer slowed as it was here.”
The older woman arches an eyebrow. “You know that for a fact?”
“No,” I admit. “But it’s the likeliest scenario.”
She tightens her grip on my arm. “You are approaching this situation with an analytical mind. Processing all the different outcomes as though it’s a battle.”
“Itisa battle.”
“Of sorts,” she agrees. “But try having a bit more faith in her. In her strength.”
“I love her,” I choke out. “I shouldn’t. It defies everything I know, but living without her just doesn’t seem possible.”