Page 52 of The Sacred and the Tormented

Conall gave a signal and each of them lowered their weapons and let their magic fade. “You’ll have to forgive them, many have waited decades to meet their king and he was just—”

“Rightfully punched in the face by his sister. Deal with it,” Saoirse said. “You didn’t interfere for decades when much worse things were happening to him. Don’t pretend to be heroic now.”

Shame covered the male’s face and the scent of it floated through the air. She let another tense moment pass before Saoirse stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Rion’s neck, pulling her brother in for a tight embrace. Rion didn’t move at first, then returned the gesture.

His heart still raced whenever she touched him, but Rion wasn’t trying to pull away from her anymore. He was trying, working through his past demons. She appreciated it now more than ever.

She was fortunate. More fortunate than most. To have her family members continuously taken from her only to see them again. She was certain the gods were at work.

“I’ll have more chairs brought.”

“That would help get things started,” she said. “Along with introductions.”

“Conall,” the male said. “And you’re Saoirse of Brónach, and Raevina of Fiadh.” He continued, going through each face in turn. “Talon of Levea, Zylah, and—” The male paused when his eyes met Gavin’s. “You—you’re the High Lord’s grandson. Gavin of Pádraigín.”

“Ashling,” Gavin corrected. Conall raised a brow. “The current High Lord is a usurper.”

“I’ve never heard you renounce the name.”

Gavin’s face heated. “Well, it’s not like I can say such things in his presence.”

Only royal Fae carried the name of their nation. The rest bore the name from their city of origin, wherever that may be. For Gavin to willingly give it up …

“Wait—” Saoirse said. “He’s not the rightful High Lord?”

Conall shook his head. “He wiped out the royal family centuries ago. None are left to claim such titles.” Fae emerged from the cabin carrying chairs and set them in a circle so that everyone would face one another. They also brought out a few more small tables and refreshments before disappearing again.

Saoirse found the entire display a little unnerving. They seemed more than willing to serve Conall. It reminded her too much of Niall and the way his servants had done the same. Was it fear or loyalty?

Gavin stepped forward, his chains rattled, and Arianna’s gaze snapped to them. “Why is he in iron?”

Talon chose to answer. He’d been the one to command it after all. “Because we didn’t have the time or patience to worry about whether he could be trusted.”

“Take them off.”

“My Lady,” Conall said, bowing his head slightly when she turned to him. “Perhaps it might be wiser to keep them on.”

“Spoken from someone who’s never had to suffer in them.”

Conall’s lips parted and he bowed his head further before his gaze drifted to her wrists. Sometimes, it was hard to believe Arianna had ever been a slave. To think she’d spent over a year in chains herself and has still been kind enough to show her brother mercy. Saoirse glanced to Zylah, watching as the half-breed withdrew the key and unlocked the heavy manacles around Gavin’s wrists. The male was smart enough not to summon his magic.

Arianna continued, “He’s already pledged himself to me and …” her voice broke, “my sister.”

“Why your sister?” Conall asked, his tone skeptical.

“They’re mates,” Saoirse finished. “And we have full intentions to use any information he can give us to get her back.”

“We can help,” Conall said. All heads turned to him. “Please, sit, let’s have a long overdue discussion.”

Chapter Fifteen

Arianna

Conall filled their small group in on the details he’d already revealed and Rion made introductions to the others. Saoirse didn’t like the fact that Rion had runes on his arms, Raevina clearly doubted their sincerity if her tone was anything to go by, but Talon seemed to be soaking in the details, filing them away to consider later.

Thankfully, Rion had moved closer, though his gaze remained downturned, as if he were waiting for her to chastise him. She’d reached out her hand, and he’d taken it, seating himself in a chair at her side.

Raevina’s gaze traveled over the village. “So you plan to infiltrate Ashling with … this?” Her tone was condescending, dismissive, but Conall chuckled, not offended in the slightest.

---