Page 30 of Deliverance

“You’re evil,” I say as I turn back to the fae in question. Frustration and confusion make my voice tight and harsh. “I have heard all about the Unseelie from Alaric.”

Ciaran raises a perfect silver brow before running his tongue over his sharp teeth, reminding me exactly who and what he is. “Oh, the prince has been sharing, has he? How nice of him.” The words are purred and seductive, but they are oh so dangerous, like the carnivorous plants that draw in their prey with their beauty and then devour them as soon as they are trapped.

Something shifts around my ankles, and to my horror, I find brambles have sprouted from the ground and wrapped around my legs. I try to pull away, but I only succeed in cutting myself on the thorns. Heart pounding like a drum, I continue to struggle despite the pain as Ciaran steps closer.

Step by step, he moves in until there is barely a breath between us. That strange sensation of butterflies in my stomach returns, but it is not because I am swooning. No, they feel like they are demanding to be released to break through the magic holding me in place and acting as a beacon at the same time, calling to anyone who will listen. Although the call is not out loud, somehow I know I have been heard.

“I bet he has not told you about their magic and just how they stay so young and beautiful?” Ciaran continues, his dark eyes boring into mine. I feel lost staring at him, entranced. Up close, he is even more handsome. It shouldn’t be possible for someone so cruel to be so beautiful.

“Iris!”

Alaric is coming for me. Hope breaks me from whatever spell Ciaran seems to cast over me, and my whole body tingles with energy. Alaric is coming. I take in the fleeing Unseelie creatures and the twisted look on the lord’s face.

“Shit,” he curses, and for a moment, a dark look crosses his features. It suddenly occurs to me that he could still snatch me and drag me into the forest. Alaric would follow, of that I am sure, but he would be massively outnumbered as soon as we entered Unseelie territory where they are strongest.

Would Nyx save me? I know he said he was staying away, but he found me here before. Would he truly leave me to die or be stolen by the Unseelie? Something in me says that he wouldn’t, that he would be there. I have no evidence to back this up, so I have no idea where the thought comes from.

Cursing again, Ciaran turns and surveys the clearing, weighing his chances. Expression hardening, he turns back to me and smiles. It is not a nice smile, showing off his sharp teeth.

“Until we meet again, my queen.” He grabs my hand and kisses the back of it before I even realise what is happening. “Just remember, they are not as perfect as they seem. Do not trust them.”

Frowning, I yank my hand away from him and stumble back a few steps in disgust. Ciaran is not paying attention to that, though, his eyes locked on my feet, confusion flashing in his eyes.

“Interesting,” he says slowly with a raised brow, stretching out the word. Flashing me that smile once more, he disappears in a flash.

It is only when Alaric races around the corner towards me that I realise the brambles that were around my ankles have withered away to nothing but black stalks.

Chapter Sixteen

“Iris!”

Alaric’s concerned face fills my vision, and in seconds, he is gripping me by the tops of my arms. His green eyes appear to glow with a fiery rage that is only muted by his concern for me. Checking me over from head to toe, he seems to be ensuring that I really am safe and not a dream.

“Ancestors above, I thought I had lost you.” The words are muttered, and I get the impression he is talking to himself. Before I can question it, though, I am in his arms and pressed against his chest.

This seems like an extreme reaction for someone who cares nothing for me. Sure, he is tasked with keeping me safe, but this is beyond that, his own emotions showing through. Honestly, I am so overwhelmed by what just happened that I am struggling to process this. What changed to make him feel so connected to me, or was it just the prospect of me dying that shocked him into realisation? Humans are much easier to kill than fae, after all.

Releasing me from his embrace, he holds onto my shoulders and steps back, surveying me once more. “Are you okay? Didthey hurt you?” His eyes catch on my torn clothes and the way I hold my arm, my burnt palm beginning to make its presence known now that I am not in immediate danger.

His whole body seems to stiffen as he realises I am injured, a snarl rumbling from his chest. “I swear, if Ciaran so much as laid a finger on you, I am going to tear this world apart until I find him.”

“Alaric, stop.” Pressing my right hand against his chest, I wait for him to meet my gaze. “I’m hurt, but I am okay. Ciaran saved me from the fire.”

Why am I defending the male who was about to abduct me? He did hurt me with the brambles, but I am sure a fae as powerful as him could have done far worse. Any of those creatures with him could have dragged me into the woods, but he protected me. I don’t want any more fighting, and Alaric could start a war if he marched into Unseelie territory and began hunting Ciaran.

“Only because he needs you to break their curse.”

His harsh words feel like a slap to the face, even though in the back of my mind it was something I had already been thinking.

Sensing my distress, he takes my hand from his chest and squeezes it in comfort. “Never mistake any of their actions as kindness. They do not know how to feel it. Anything they do is self-serving, do not forget that.” Kindness lines his eyes, his explanation gentler than his initial comment. He seems to be holding himself back from saying something, the words on the tip of his tongue. “Are you really okay? He didn’t… do anything to you?”

“No,” I reply, vehemently rejecting the prospect of what he is suggesting. “He rescued me. That is all.”

His implications were clear. The very idea that Ciaran might try to force himself on me is abhorrent, and although I know he is villainous, my heart tells me that he would never dothat. Maybe I am naïve in thinking this. I certainly have no evidence to prove otherwise, only this surety in my gut. Ciaran easily could have hurt or manhandled me, but he didn’t. In fact, he reached out to steady me when I stumbled. I will not tell Alaric about the brambles that Ciaran used to hold me in place, knowing it will only relight his anger.

Alaric releases my hand and shifts his weight from foot to foot, his posture changing as he clutches his hands behind his back. “Iris, I humbly apologise. I promised you would be safe here, and you were injured.” He is formal as he apologies, staring ahead, becoming someone I do not recognise. “The Unseelie must have cast a spell so we could not see that this side of the inn was burning,” he explains, his mouth tightening in a show of anger that he tries to hold back. “It was too late for me to reach you once I realised we were being fooled. That is when the Unseelie attacked.” He pauses, his shoulders falling forward as he rubs a hand across his face.

I was able to pinpoint the moment he switched from his formal apology to this exhausted, frustrated fae before me. Honestly, I prefer the latter. He is obviously feeling the pressure of keeping me safe and getting me to his people, and the fact I was injured on his watch is clearly playing on his mind.

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