Page 158 of A Fate so Cruel

He’d researched, but Rion had never found anything about the forest’s origin. It had been dark and forbidden since the day the Fae arrived on Alastríona’s shores. Perhaps the magic was a direct result of something their ancestors had done. Maybe they’d dabbled with something beyond their control and kept it from the history books to hide their failure.

Rion gazed up and down the stark line that separated the smaller trees from the looming giants before him. Not as tall as the redwoods, but still menacing in their own right. He glanced between the trunks. Thick fog rolled along the ground, kissing his boots and disappearing. A line. There was some sort of magical line here, but he couldn’t explain it. He hedged a guess no one could.

Adrenaline pulsed through him and his magic reacted, rising up to surround his body with a comforting embrace.

The trees almost seemed to reach for it. For him.

He should have feared the darkness, but Rion stepped beyond that line and walked inside.

His boots were silent against the moss underfoot. The trees creaked and groaned, almost as if they were speaking to one another. He listened, but the normal sounds of birds and scurrying creatures were absent. It was as though the forest were observing him, curious about the creature who’d dared to enter its territory.

Minutes later—and to his utmost surprise—the Fairy Folk appeared. They danced between the trees. Dozens upon dozens of them. Rion paused to watch their carefree nature. Theyweren’t cautious like the ones in Nàdair. They ran and played freely. They almost seemed to be buzzing, as if excited about his arrival.

One landed on his shoulder and kicked its little Fae-like feet back and forth. The action reminded Rion of a youngling before the solstice. Its skin resembled the bark from a tree and a smile spread across its tiny face.

“You’re certainly lively today,” it chirped, then pushed off, its nearly translucent wings fluttering to keep it afloat.

Others joined it, buzzing through the air in zigzag patterns, chasing one another without a care in the world.

Rion smiled at them despite the pain in his heart. He didn’t understand. This place brought death, and yet the sacred Fairy Folk flew through the trees and scurried across the forest floor without fear.

Maybe this was their home. The one place they didn’t have to hide. But he’d never heard of the Fairy Folk hurting anyone. Looking at the creatures, Rion wasn’t even sure they possessed the ability.

No, there were darker things responsible for that. Did the Fairy Folk coexist with them, or avoid them altogether? Were the Dark Fae a threat to them?

Instead of walking farther, Rion collapsed against the trunk of a large tree and propped his arm up on a gnarled root. His heart was heavy, his energy spent.

Saoirse.

Rion clenched his jaw. He hated the anger that had driven his every step. Hated that it controlled him more often than not.

But here, just sitting amongst the trees, watching the Fairy Folk running back and forth, that anger was gone somehow. As if someone had carved it from his soul. If not for his aching heart, he might have even felt at peace.

He could use some peace. The last decade had been . . . the opposite. He’d secured every major outpost in Brónach. The minor ones, too. The guards stationed at each one now took their jobs very seriously. So many had lost their lives, choosing to fight rather than relinquish their titles. Some had willingly resigned, but not many.

Once word spread, the rest of Brónach began cleaning themselves up for fear of The Demon’s arrival.

It had hardly seemed like a decade. He’d drowned himself in work. When he wasn’t visiting villages, he made his way to Whiteridge, just to inquire about their current state. Everyone ran from him, and the Fae male who’d taken on the responsibility of governor refused to look Rion in the eye. His bookkeeping was always immaculate, which made reports easy.

No one challenged him. No one attempted to rebuild the palace.

Rion had rooted out every single manufacturer of the poison and ensured those creating it paid with their lives. There would be no trials. No public executions. They knew who was coming for them.

He’d eradicated the problem in less than two years. Attacks on smaller villages ceased altogether. Not that he received any credit for it. That went to Alec.

Rion sighed and rested his head against the tree trunk. His mind drifted in and out, reliving pleasant dreams and wicked nightmares. Whenever he jolted awake, Rion found the Fairy Folk still dancing and playing. He wondered if they slept at all.

***

Hours later, Rion stood and stretched his stiff body. It was still dark and his leg throbbed, but Rion forced himselfdeeper into the forest and up the steep slope of the mountain. Curiosity was his driving force. To know whether the monsters were real. To know if he belonged among them.

He continued for days, treating his wounds, watching the shadows, and enjoying the company of the tiny creatures that followed him wherever he went. They brought him small gifts, leaving folded leaves full of salve and a crown of flowers beside his boot whenever he slept.

He wasn’t above putting the flowers on his head, especially when they chirped in delight. He figured it was the least he could do for the medicine they provided. It did far more for the pain than the ones made by the healers.

The dark creatures rumored to prowl the forest didn’t make an appearance. Or maybe they were just as frightened of him as the Fae within Brónach. Just his luck. Even sinister creatures were too afraid to challenge him.

Rion sighed and paused at the sight of a glittering patch of sunlight leaking through the canopy. He studied the area. A stream wasn’t far off. The land was flat, though he could certainly shift it if need be. He was far from Nàdair. Far from everything.

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