Page 157 of A Fate so Cruel

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Rion kept going and only stopped long enough to bind his leg. He limped across the open plains, pushing southwest until the sun rose in the sky.

Dry tears caked his face and his throat was raw from screaming.

Pain. There was always so much pain no matter where he went. And now Saoirse . . .

Rion clenched his fists and slammed one through another tree. His knuckles were already bruised. He was certain one had cracked, judging from the swelling.

He didn’t care.

It wasn’t until the sun began its descent in the sky that Rion collapsed next to a slow-moving river. He dropped his head in his hands, pulled at the strands of his hair, then rubbed his face.

Rion stared at the water for a long minute, watching leaves lazily drift downstream. He crawled toward the edge and splashed water over his face, clearing away the blood and dirt.

The sound of Saoirse’s sobs tore through him again and Rion clenched his shirt in one hand, right over his aching heart. He gritted his teeth, trying to force the tears back.

He’d messed up this time. She’d never forgive him, and he honestly couldn’t blame her.

Hearing her scream had broken something else in him. Something Rion hadn’t even realized he’d been clinging to. Despite pushing her away for the past several years, Saoirse was still the only thing he’d had left. She’d never lost faith in him. Even after his ruthless treatment of the border villages, she’d always defended him and stood by his side.

But now—Rion took a breath and tried to steady himself. Could he handle it if he’d lost Saoirse, too? The answer was obvious.

Maybe now she’d join the others in plotting his demise. Hell, maybe she’d hunt him down herself.

Rion cleaned his wounds and spread a salve over the worst two before binding them with a clean cloth. He finished the last of his food, then stared at the small fire.

Gone. It was all gone. His home. His sister.

They were the last things he had to define himself. They were the only connections he had to his mother. He was a vagabond, left with only the wide wilderness to claim.

Rion sat there, thoughts ringing through his mind until shadows stretched across the land. Perhaps he should go to the northern continent after all. That’s where Saoirse had originally planned to hide him. He could wipe his hands clean of Brónach and Alastríona forever. No one would know him there, and no one would hunt him so long as he steered clear of the humans.

There was also the continent to the west. None lived in the wild lands, or so the Fae claimed. He could also try traveling south and jump between the islands. Maybe he could even convince an explorer to sail east, discover a new continent altogether, if any existed.

But something kept Rion from pursuing those options. As if the land itself called to him, begging him to stay. He didn’t understand it, he only knew he couldn’t leave. This was his home, whether he liked it or not.

Rion thought about his mother and, for the hundredth time, wondered what she’d think of the male he’d become. Her opinion probably wouldn’t differ from others. She’d see her youngest son as an abomination. A disappointment. If there was one being in the world Rion wouldn’t fight, it was her.

Rion suffocated the fire, then spread his legs out, content to watch the last rays of the sun dip below the horizon when the mountain in the distance caught his eye.

It loomed above the land. A silent reminder that even the Fae had something to fear. Rion studied the ominous trees. It was a dark place, a forbidden stretch of land where the Dark Fae were rumored to run wild. A forest full of monsters.

Monsters like him.

The great mountain peaks separated Móirín from Brónach. Neither country claimed them as part of their territory. Fae didn’t go there. Fae died amongst those trees, left by the creatures that prowled beneath the ancient boughs.

But maybe that’s where he belonged. Somewhere where the world couldn’t find him. Where they’d forget he ever existed. He’d vanish and become nothing more than a whispered fable. Or maybe they’d let the memory of him slip away altogether.

Rion snapped a stick between his hands, then stood and shouldered his pack again. He glanced back once more at Nàdair. To those familiar trees that rose high above all the others. A pang of longing echoed in his chest.

Then Rion turned away and began the long trek toward the forbidden mountains.

Chapter Two

Rion stood at the edge of those ominous trees. He peered up into the thick boughs, closed his eyes, and absorbed the strong pulse of magic that seemed to leak from the roots.

Ancient.

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