Page 29 of Song of the Dark Wood

Charlie’s brows flew up. “Really? What changed? You were always fine with Orla. In nearly five years, you never had a slip-up.”

It was true. Orla was a smart, beautiful girl. Despite her sheltered life, she understood people and possessed the natural distrust of the world that only orphans had. She was a survivor, and surviving was messy. Orla wasn’t one to fear dirty hands.

She took a while to trust him, but she’d come around, and then she’d become an invaluable resource for finding out exactly what was going on with the Ballybrine elders. She had a natural talent for eavesdropping, and because she was such a fervent rule-follower in their eyes, she was privy to more information than most. The leader of the elders, Elder Falon, loved her andtrusted her with more than most Red Maidens were told about the inner workings of the elder council and the Crone.

And in turn, Conor had betrayed the trust she placed in him.

Charlie stared at him, expecting more of an explanation. “You could?—”

Conor narrowed his eyes in a look meant to eviscerate.

“That face might scare everyone else, but you forget who I am.” Charlie laughed. “I know you think you can keep going as things are, but this blight is a sign that it’s time for change. You might not want to know that, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. Whether or not you like it, she might be your way to gain control once and for all?—”

“It’s out of the question,” Conor said, cutting him off. “I’m not talking about this right now. I just need to get her out of here soon.”

Charlie’s gaze locked on to the sweat dotting Conor’s brow and his white-knuckled grip on the armchair. The laughter in his eyes dissipated.

“Mother’s tits! It’s that bad?” he asked in a harsh whisper.

Conor tried to pretend it wasn’t, but he could barely control himself. He was disgusted by the lack of restraint that had him practically vibrating with need.

All Red Maidens were tempting. It was part of the way the magic worked to ensure the power between himself and the Mother stayed balanced.

Most of the Maidens had a familiar, intoxicating scent and a loveliness that was unique and supernatural. Rowan smelled like goodness itself. She smelled so startlingly sweet and alive it was hard to even sit in the same room as her. She shifted in her sleep, and the robe fell open, offering a tantalizing view of the creamy skin of her neck and the swell of her breasts. She let out a soft, discontented whimper that curled Conor’s toes.

She was tearing his self-control to shreds within a couple of hours. He wasn’t sure how he’d make it five years.

As if reading his mind, Charlie spoke up. “Maybe it will get better over time. You’ll get used to it.”

“Maybe,” Conor gritted out, panting as he tried to tear his gaze away from her.

Rowan sat with a start, choking on a gasp. Her wide doe eyes met Conor’s, and she blushed.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she mumbled.

“Yes, we’ll have to keep you away from the drink, lass. Can’t have you falling asleep on the job,” Conor said.

Rowan narrowed her eyes, as if uncertain if he was teasing her or actually disapproving. He wasn’t sure himself. He was irrationally angry with her—for what, being lovely and tempting? It wasn’t her fault. Magic made it so. She was no more able to control how she tempted him than he was to remain unaffected by her.

“I should get back. Aeoife will be worried,” Rowan said, rising from the chair, shrugging out of the robe, and carefully folding it and smoothing it over the seat as if trying to erase her presence from the room.

“Aeoife?” Conor asked.

“The youngest Maiden. Orla didn’t tell you either of our names?” Rowan asked. “By the Mother! Am I not supposed to tell you that?” She paled, and her hand came to her mouth. “They didn’t teach us that in lessons.”

Charlie laughed. “Relax, lass. Orla was just very private and protective of the two of you.” He handed her the red cloak she’d arrived in, but not before his eyes raked over her slinky silk dress appreciatively.

Conor nearly growled at him.

Charlie cocked an eyebrow and chuckled. “Territorial,” he whispered.

It was all a game to Charlie. He didn’t know what it was to struggle like that. Worse, he’d likely forgotten what it was like when Conor was out of control. They’d both become complacent with the lack of temptation.

And he’d failed Orla. He shook his head, trying to blot out a vision of her lifeless eyes.

Still, Charlie had the lightness about it that only came from helping to clean up bodies he wasn’t responsible for.

“I’ll walk you out,” Conor said. He held out his arm for her, as if it was nothing to be so close.

---