Page 167 of A Fate so Cruel

“Those in Levea will help you learn to control it. They’ll help the others, too.”

It might have been smarter for her to wait until she’d entered Levea, but Rion had wanted to see her magic himself. Just to see if it was really possible for a half-breed to have it. He’d told her to wait to release the others, just in case.

“We’ll reach the other side tomorrow. We’ve crossed the border, so you won’t have to hide anymore.”

“What stops Móirín from just shipping us back? Aren’t they Brónach’s ally?”

“Yes, but the High Lady has a very strong opinion on the matter. She doesn’t approve of slaves. She’s the reason slavery was outlawed in the first place, and she’s made her stance well known.”

“But the laws—”

“Don’t apply here. Those in Brónach believe that if they lose their slave, then it was something either ordained by the gods or their owner was careless. They’ll only pursue the matter for a week before they forget all about it.”

“And purchase more,” she finished.

Rion didn’t try to deny it. There was always a surplus of slaves.

“Thank you,” she said. His lips parted at the sincerity in her eyes. In her voice. “We never thought—” she shook her head. “Whatever your reasons, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She kept still. Waiting. Rion wanted to say more. He wanted to invite her to sit with him. To talk as if they could be friends. But a familiar wound rose to the surface, reminding Rion of a long buried heartache.

He clenched his teeth. “I plan to do this again. Would it be too much to ask for you to inform whoever needs to know?”

Her eyes widened. “O-Of course not.”

After a breath he added, “If I’m to continue this work, then I need to remain anonymous.” She opened her mouth to protest. “If word gets back to Brónach, to Alec, well, I’m not exactly sure what would happen.” His brother would make his life a living hell.

“So you go down in history as nothing more than a monster? That hardly seems fair.”

“My life hasn’t been fair since I was very young.”

“I’m sorry,” she clenched her fists. “It’s—what you’re doing, it means a lot to us. It will mean a lot to the others you help as well. If there’s anything you ever need, even if it’s just a place to rest, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

Her hand extended and Rion eyed it. His jaw ticked, emotions warred, then he stepped away. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Hurt flashed across her features. “Sorry,” she whispered.

Rion hated the guilt wading through him. “It’s not you. I’ve . . . let’s just say some lessons were learned the hard way.”

She nodded. “Well, the offer still stands.” He looked at her then, to the gentle smile on her face. The sympathy in her gaze. “And maybe someday, you’ll find someone worthy of your trust.”

“Maybe.” He doubted it. With a final look, Cara started down the steep hill to join the others. He watched her. Watched her family as they congratulated her and marveled at the magic coursing through her veins, leaving trails of flowers wherever she went.

He was a shadow above them. A dark guardian.

A forest sprite emerged from the moss at his side and sat down, stretching its little rooted feet out as it leaned back on two spindly arms. One smooth finger touched his.

Rion raised a brow at the creature, but it just sat there as if it knew Rion needed the company. Rion didn’t pull his hand away.

Trust. He rolled the word over his tongue. He doubted he’d trust anyone ever again. But he’d help those who couldn’t defend themselves. He would free the oppressed. Because when he was a child, he would have given anything to have a stranger look at him as if he were something more than a monster.

Chapter Six

No one in the palace questioned Rion’s absence. If anything, his return was just a grim reminder of his existence.

The noble that had owned the slaves sent guards to search for them, but after a week he gave up and simply purchased four more. Four slaves who, Rion overhead, were doing the same amount of work as the others. Fewer mouths to feed meant more money in the noble’s pockets.

Rion clenched his fists and found a way for the male to disappear less than a week later. Nàdair’s guards found him on the bank of a river, drowned. Some thought he’d done it himself, to escape some sort of financial responsibility.

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