Page 79 of The Sacred and the Tormented

Kirian’s hands brushed her hair back, over and over in slow, methodical strokes. “It’ll be okay, you’ll see. We’ll get out of here and you’ll have all the bragging rights in the world.”

Ellie clutched his tunic, staring at the damp stone floor. Kirian rocked her back and forth, lightly resting his chin on her head.

Survive. They just had to survive.

She recited the mantra in her head again.

She wouldn’t forget who she was or the things she was fighting for.

I am Lady Evelyn of Móirín and the future High Lady of Levea. I am the daughter of the High Lord of Storms. Sister to Arianna, The Queen of Alastríona. I have been trained to endure. I will not falter. I have a mate. Gavin from Pádraigín,but a half-breed has claimed my heart. I will protect Levea at any cost, even if that cost means my life. The people are everything. I will not allow myself to be manipulated. I will not break.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Arianna

Nine days passed before they were walking through the underground cavernous halls on their way to infiltrate Ashling. Her wounds had healed, thanks to Sive, Conall’s warriors had returned, and they’d each studied the maps, plans, and escape routes relentlessly. She could practically see Gavin’s drawings every time she closed her eyes. He was quite the artist.

Said male walked just ahead of her, still wearing the iron bracelet at Conall’s request. Most still distrusted him, but Arianna could feel his sincerity whenever he spoke. Gavin was a good male who’d grown up under the influence of the wrong people and ideals. If he were willing to learn and change, then she was willing to give him the opportunity.

Arianna lifted her gaze to the tall ceiling, watching as water dripped from the crevice that reached higher than their light could penetrate.

When Conall had mentioned tunnels, Arianna had envisioned tight, narrow passageways, but these were the complete opposite. The Fae walked comfortably in small groups, whispering amongst one another with packs slung over their shoulders.

She glanced down at her wrist to the pair of bracelets the Weavers had gifted every single warrior embarking on this mission. The stones attached to the band acted as a means to keep track of time, counting down to Ashling’s destruction.

One bracelet for the journey there. Another for once they arrived. If everything went according to plan, they’d have around twelve hours to find her sister, free the prisoners, gather intel, then set the place on fire. Or explode it, as Conall planned to do.

Arianna traced her fingers over the six stones that had already turned dull. Each one had been imbued with a certain amount of magic. It pulsed until that magic faded and triggered the next to activate. Handy, given their mission, but Arianna wasn’t sure twelve hours would be long enough to accomplish it all.

They had one shot. If they messed up—Arianna shook the thoughts away.

She pulled her sleeve back further to reveal the small rune painted on her skin. It would serve too help them resist Pádraigín’s influence. Everyone had a similar marking, courtesy of the Weavers.

Conall led them personally, something that surprised her given that he was the leader of the resistance group. Arianna thought he might stay behind, but the male had assured her there were more than a few who could take his place should things go wrong. Cara among them.

Arianna glanced over at Rion, listening to the drip, drip, drip of water as it rolled down the sides of the tunnel walls. Those with Pádraigín’s magic kept the air moving, just to ease those uncomfortable with thousands of pounds of rocks overhead.

But it did nothing to calm her mate’s fears.

Sweat rolled down his face despite the pleasant temperature and his heartbeat had been erratic since they’d stepped foot underground. Whenever she took his hand, he gripped it like a lifeline, hardly seeming to notice how tightly he squeezed. Just like he was doing now.

She made a point to not let go if she could help it.

Arianna kept walking, following the line of hundreds that accompanied them. Each had their own assignments. Some were solely responsible for retrieving the prisoners. Others would secure their exit, ensuring no obstacles blocked theirpath. The mission had to be fast. They had to trust everyone knew their roles and could act quickly if things went wrong.

Twelve hours was all it would take to change the direction of the entire continent one way or the other.

Talon had tried to convince her to stay behind. She’d told him she wouldn’t risk losing another friend to the monster that called himself a High Lord.

Arianna watched one of the warriors pause and press their back against the wall as everyone else filed past. Another stopped beside them, both opening their water skins to take a long drink.

They were part of the team that would be helping prisoners make the journey back. All would remain unconscious until they reached safety. She just wondered how long it would take their minds to believe it.

The sound of rushing water grew louder as they kept pressing forward. Conall had mentioned the walls would carve around an underground river at the halfway point. They’d rest for a few minutes before crossing the final stretch.

Arianna tugged at her uncomfortable uniform. She wore Pádraigín’s colors, with a heavy green cloak that she’d pushed back to leave her arms free. She hated the rough material and hated the colors even more. Niall had wanted to cage her in these colors. To combine them with the blues and silvers of Móirín. Even if it meant doing so against her will.

But even if she hated them now, these clothes were the only thing that would hide them once they crossed into Ashling. Rion wore the same colors though if he loathed the material, he didn’t show it. Or couldn’t be bothered to care with the fear coursing through him.

---