Page 32 of The Sacred and the Tormented

They won’t hurt Arianna.

They won’t hurt Arianna.

They won’t hurt Arianna.

The words felt like a lie from a stranger.

Rion scented the magic before he felt it. It buzzed through the air and as they passed through, Rion felt it cascade over his skin like a thousand insects. He bent toward Arianna and the female tending to her leaned back.

Then it vanished just as quickly as it’d come.

A line of Fae appeared before him on the other side, all watching with pensive gazes. He stood in the wagon, scanning each of them one at a time.

Nearly three dozen.

His jaw worked.

Then he saw the smaller silhouettes in the distance, each hiding behind more Fae.

The younglings. A village. Masses of eyes watching from every angle.

None had their weapons drawn. None had weapons at all.

The wagon veered left and Rion watched each person in passing. Their gazes were curious, awestruck even as they stared at his magic. Some raised up on their tiptoes as if they might be able to spot something else. They whispered amongst one another and their fear was … different. It didn’t carry the same harsh tang that he normally scented. Because it wasn’t directed toward him.

“There’s a bed waiting inside,” the male said, interrupting Rion’s thoughts. “We should—”

Rion spotted the small cottage the male had gestured too and was moving before he could finish his sentence.

The female who’d been tending to Arianna leapt from the wagon too, keeping close as Rion carefully scooped his mate into his arms. His ankle throbbed, nearly buckling as he put weight on it. Arianna groaned and his heart jolted at the sound.

“It’ll be all right,” Rion whispered, even if he wasn’t sure he believed it himself.

The male opened the door and Rion stormed past him, thankful to find the interior void of more bodies. He immediately turned toward the bed and deposited Arianna on a soft, cream colored quilt.

Once again, the female approached and placed her hands over Arianna’s wounds. That unnatural light returned and Rion could only watch the strange magic in helpless anticipation.

The same male from earlier stood on the threshold. “Sive is on her way,” he assured. The female at Arianna’s side nodded.

“Who is she?” Rion demanded.

“Our best healer.”

Rion gritted his teeth, then took in the layout of the room. There were two windows and the front door. Three points of entry.

His body itched to pace the length of the cottage, but he remained still, watching the female’s magic for any sign of malintent. Those who’d greeted them hadn’t carried any weapons, but were they gathering them now? Were they plotting the best way to separate him from his mate?

He couldn’t calm his still racing heart and the female seemed to note his rising panic. Her gaze met that of the other male’s, but that male only nodded in reassurance, as if saying anything might set Rion off all over again.

There were several here with the ability to use Pádraigín’s magic. Would they try to knock him out? Steal the air from his lungs? How many were they willing to sacrifice in order to subdue him?

Rion’s heart was pounding so hard the only thing he could hear was the racing of his own blood. He needed to calm down and—Arianna’s heart skipped again and Rion hit his knees at her side, grabbing her hand, uncaring that the female tending to his mate could reach out and touch him with little effort.

Gods, please, please, please.He couldn’t lose her. Not like this. Not when she was so young and had barely had any time to live.

More bodies gathered by the door. Rion swallowed a lump in his throat and turned to stare at the female that had stepped inside. A male stood behind her, one hand lightly resting on her shoulder.

Rion couldn’t stop his magic as it glided across the floor, daring the new arrivals to take a single step. He scented the air and every hair on his body rose. Something about her was … different. Ancient. Her scent was similar to the female currently tending to his mate, but also different in a way he couldn’t grasp. It reminded him of the way an older Fae smelled when they possessed more magic than their younger counterparts.

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