Page 59 of The Fae Lord

This time, I do feel it.

Every bit of it.

The rage and the disgust at the thought of his thick old hands all over her.

He strides into the room. Then he spots the drawing. His eyes narrow. She sees it too, but he’s quicker than she is, and he picks it up, crinkling it in his fist.

When he opens the paper, and sees my face, his cheeks become scarlet red and his chin wobbles as he spits, “You were pleasuring yourself to this?”

Rosalie’s entire body is aflame with embarrassment.

“To a badly drawn sketch of your dead boyfriend?”

She blinks at him. She frowns. “Dead?” The whisper breaks on her lips.

“Dead,” he repeats, eyes like steel as he holds up the piece of paper and tears it into a million tiny pieces right in front of her. “Eldrion killed him. Rumour has it, he was trying to help your friend. The empath. Trying to help her escape.”

No, that’s not what happened. This wasn’t Alana’s fault.

Rosalie stands up and storms over to him, then kneels down and starts to scramble for the torn pieces. “Get out,” she whispers.

The old fae moves towards her, but she snaps her head up. Fire blooms in her palms. Her eyes flicker orange. “Get out!” she cries. “Get out!” she screams again and again, stalking towards him as he backs away.

As he slams the door shut and bolts it tight, he yells, “Calm yourself, Rosalie. Next time I visit, I want you your usual self. And we will never speak of this again. You have a job to do. Remember that.”

TWENTY-SIX

Alana

Iam glad I sent Kayan away. I am sick of the games, and the hints, and the cryptic clues. He is not here to help me. Either the spirit world sent him back to irritate me and fuck with my head, or he really is part of my imagination. And that is why he doesn’t know anything. Because I don’t either.

Pacing up and down outside my tent, it occurs to me that this would make a lot of sense. If I really am losing my grip on reality, and conjured Kayan as some kind of comfort to myself, then it would explain everything.

He was distrustful of Finn, and Briony, and the elves Finn’s working with, and Maura, and the Shadowkind, because deep down, I do not know if I can trust any of them either.

Deep down, I do not know if I can even trust myself.

All I know is that what Finn said about destroying Eldrion – and me being the one to do it – suddenly feels like the most obvious thing in the world.

I have some kind of hold over him. If I didn’t, he would have killed me by now. He had the opportunity again and again in the castle, in the tunnels. And yet he preferred to talk with me.

He needs me. I don’t know what for, but I know I have something he wants.

Which gives me the upper hand.

And if I end him, then perhaps these torturous visions will finally end, too.

I stop and brace myself against a nearby tree. My head swims, and my vision blurs. I have never experienced the feeling in waking hours before, and it sends me to my knees. I clasp the sides of my head and groan as pain grips my skull.

I bend forward onto all fours, my fingernails digging into the ground. The pain is too much. I can’t take it.

I blink, but see nothing but shadows.

They are coming for me.

I try to scramble backwards, and hit the tree. Except, it is not the tree. It is him; Eldrion.

He wraps his wings around me and whispers, “It’s all right, Alana. I’ve got you.”

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