Page 28 of A Fate so Cruel

Liam’s face paled and his worried gaze returned to the knife. Liam rested a gentle hand on the young male’s chest.

“Go get help,” Rion instructed one of the others. “He needs—”

“You did this.” Liam’s voice. Trembling, yet cold and murderous. The heartbeat slowed.

“You need—”

“You did this,” Liam roared then lunged to his feet. Two others grabbed him, wrapping their arms around their friend to hold him back. “If you’d never shown up,” Liam’s voice cracked. “If you’d just stayed away—” A sob, then Liam collapsed to his knees. The two didn’t release his arms.

Rion’s heart pounded. Ached.

“Get out of here,” Liam seethed. Rion opened his mouth to speak, to defend himself, but his friend looked up and Rion saw undiluted rage reflected in his tear-filled eyes. “And don’t ever come back.”

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe. Rion stepped back, feeling as if he were the one with a knife in his chest. He surveyed the broken field, the bodies, the dying male, the cuts and bruises on those still alive.

He stepped again.

He’d done this. If he’d never come, they might all still be alive. If he’d just listened to Caol—pain overwhelmed him all at once. His shoulder burned, his torso with it. The cut across hisarm pulsed, but those wounds were superficial. They’d heal over time.

His bleeding heart was another matter.

Rion met Liam’s gaze one final time and bowed his head. “I’m sorry.” It was barely more than a whisper, then Rion ran as fast as his legs would carry him. Tears of anger and grief and frustration slid down his face. Rion swiped them away, fighting to keep his vision clear.

He failed.

He couldn’t return to Caol’s, not with the risk that someone might pursue him. But he needed medical supplies.

Rion diverted down a winding path where he knew a hollow sycamore tree waited with an emergency pack stuffed inside its hollow trunk. Saoirse had done that for him. She’d littered the entire mountainside in supplies should they ever find themselves on the run.

He was running now, he just wasn’t sure where to.

Dozens of questions flew through Rion’s mind as he separated himself from Caol’s land. Hell, Caol might not even want him back after this. Rion had disobeyed him and Fae had died.

What had he done in another life to warrant this kind of punishment? What kind of horrible male had he been? And why did innocents have to be dragged into the middle of it all?

Chapter Five

Rion didn’t sleep, but the growing darkness didn’t scare him anymore. He’d encountered enough real monsters that whatever shadows his mind tried to conjure paled in comparison.

He shivered from the brisk spring air but didn’t dare risk a fire. He knew search parties were looking for him. The gods only knew how Alec was reacting to the whole situation.

Thankfully, his magic had finally settled enough that he didn’t leave a trail. In his panic, it had stripped the bark from numerous trees and carved a clear path right to him. At least it had led his pursuers away from Caol.

Once he’d wrestled his emotions into submission, Rion had veered north. It had been hours and the sun had just begun cresting the tree tops.

Now, he sat at the edge of a river, attempting to force a thin piece of thread through the eye of a needle with shaking hands. His arm had gone numb and was so stiff he could barely move it. Rion grimaced when blood trickled from the wound.

Giving up, he reached inside the medicine bag and withdrew a salve to numb the tender skin. A half hour passed as he waited for it to kick in. Birds chirped in the trees overhead and the river moved at a steady pace, calming the still riled parts of his soul.

With a sigh, Rion glanced at the open wound again, grit his teeth, then pushed the needle through. He hissed when it looped through his skin and had to pause. So much for the numbing agent. He’d learned to stitch years ago, but he’d never had to patch a wound this severe. Not himself anyway.

Rion tied the thread off using his teeth, then inserted the needle again. His arm twitched and pain flared through his shoulder anew. Rion cursed, slammed his back against thenearest tree trunk, and took to observing the morning sky. Angry tears fought for escape, but Rion bit them back.

He’d killed three Fae warriors from Brónach, but that wasn’t what bothered him. It was the others who’d died for absolutely no reason at all. It was the unprovoked anger and fear directed his way from a childhood friend. It was the insanity of the entire situation.

What the hell had those males wanted? They couldn’t have been part of the royal guard. If they were, Liam and his friends never would have been targeted.

His body trembled and the magic Rion so desperately wanted to control sprang to life again. He glanced at it. Maybe the ancient texts were right after all. Maybe hewascursed. Maybe his existence drove Fae to the brink of insanity just from the mere sight of him. He didn’t bother trying to rationalize Saoirse or Caol.

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