Page 109 of The Sacred and the Tormented

A thick rug covered the space beneath her feet, and Arianna noticed scorch marks in the maroon fibers.

She tilted her head, trying to work the tension from her shoulders. The fire popped, a spark shooting out into the room. Something moved to her right.

Not something. Someone.

Arianna let her gaze rise past the small, round table to her right, and her body went rigid at the sight of a male sitting in the chair across from her. He had one leg crossed over the other, his thick robes obscuring his legs, leaving only his boots visible.

Arianna noticed the runes along his robes first. Familiar symbols she couldn’t read but now knew all too well. His scent wafted toward her, carried by the cool breeze at her back. He smelled like an old library, like he’d been caged inside a room too long.

His face, though young and fair like all the Fae, carried evidence of a thousand wars. A hundred lifetimes. His light golden hair was pulled back on one side, twisted around so thatit was out of his face. The other side of his head was bare. He carried thick scars along that half that dragged all the way down his face, as if a creature had tried to tear it off.

He was blind in one eye, though he didn’t wear any sort of patch to cover the cloudy opaqueness.

Even with his imperfections, there was something other-worldly about him. Something that seemed to draw her toward his presence. Or maybe that was just another of his illusions.

Vairik was a master of them, after all.

He didn’t speak. Instead, Vairik watched her, seeming to study everything from the way her chest rose and fell to where her eyes wandered. Arianna’s gaze traveled back to the table where she found a glass of water and chocolates arranged neatly on a plate.

She couldn’t help herself. Arianna lunged for the water, hearing the familiar rattle of chains as she did.

Arianna ignored the iron around her ankles as she let the liquid ease her parched throat. She knew it was likely laced with something, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. How long had it been?

Arianna’s eyes snapped to her wrist. The bracelets were gone, which meant she had no way of telling how much time had passed. Nothing had exploded yet though, which meant Conall and the others hadn’t enacted their plan. But … Did that mean the others had been caught as well? Had everyone failed?

Arianna looked back up to find Vairik still watching her. His gaze flicked between her wrist and eyes. She didn’t have to turn her hand over to know the rune was gone too. Niall or that mysterious female had probably gotten rid of it as soon as she’d been captured.

Arianna carefully set the glass back on the table, resisting the urge to fling it at Vairik’s face.

His voice was dark and silken when he spoke. “I’ll offer you more in a few moments. It wouldn’t do any good for you to vomit all over my clean floors.”

Her magic reacted to his voice so violently that Arianna audibly gasped and clutched her chest. It leapt behind her rips, as if it were trying to claw its way out. She couldn’t hold it back and Arianna leaned forward when the iron sent a pulse of electricity straight through her.

She tried coaxing it back into submission, begging the creature to calm down. Vairik was right in front of her. She needed to ask him questions and find a way out. Passing out on the floor wouldn’t exactly help her do that.

It took Arianna several moments to ease her racing heart and quiet the creature. It resorted to pacing back and forth.

Vairik was studying her, a sharp curiosity in his gaze. Then he turned to watch the flames dancing in the fireplace. He still sat with a relaxed posture, his hands neatly folded in his lap, long fingers interlaced.

“You’re the High Lord of Pádraigín.” Her voice cracked, throat raw and aching. Not that he deserved the title.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, pulling at the scars along the left side of his face. “And you’re the sacred queen, our bringer of peace. Arianna, wasn’t it?”

Her magic jolted again, vibrating against her sternum as if growling from within. Arianna tried to swallow, but it did nothing to ease the fire in her throat. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

Sharp eyes tilted toward her, penetrating down to her core as if he could see that raging creature within. “You don’t believe in your own destiny?”

Arianna opened her mouth to reply then closed it again. How was she supposed to respond? She’d done nothing but doubt herself from the beginning. “It’s complicated.”

His gaze turned back to the fire and he shifted slightly in his chair, as if an old pain were suddenly making itself known. “Most things centering around destiny are.”

Arianna waited for him to continue or to say something else. After a few minutes of silence she finally asked. “What have you done with everyone?” If he had her in his clutches, he had to have the others too.

His jaw ticked, the first sign of agitation. “Worried for your mate?”

Arianna recalled Connall’s words and the story he’d told about a male scorned by the female he’d loved.

Vairik spoke again before she could reply. “Tell me honestly, do you believe you would have fallen for such a male if it weren’t for the bond pulling you together?” Before she could reply, Vairik leaned across the table. She shrank away, but he only grabbed a pitcher she hadn’t seen a moment ago. He carefully refilled her glass then placed the pitcher back on the table. It disappeared again.

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