Page 87 of The Sacred and the Tormented

His words twisted her stomach. Wasted talent wasn’t exactly her first thought upon seeing the dead. She studied thefrail Fae around her. Did he really expect these people to fight in a war? It’d take months for them to recover. Longer. The war could be on their doorstep tomorrow.

Arianna opened her mouth to press the male about it when deep laugher had everyone freezing in place. Her eyes shot to Rion first, then a wave of Pádraigín’s magic swept over the area, coating their bodies. Arianna braced herself against the magic, readying herself for the illusions that would follow.

Rion pivoted for Conall. The male only had time to raise one hand before Rion’s fingers dug into his throat. He slammed the male against the stone wall and pressed a dagger to Conall’s artery.

Conall lifted a finger to his lips, urging them to be silent even as he faced the blunt of Rion’s wrath.

Arianna turned to Talon next, but he was assessing those fleeing into the tiny cells, tugging the bodies of those they’d just released inside. Arianna grimaced at the way their bodies scooted against the hard stone, knowing full well it’d leave marks.

Doors closed on unnaturally silent hinges.

Light bounced off the walls as the voices drew closer, their boots echoing off the thick stone.

Conall pointed to the cell across from them and mouthed a single word.Move.

Rion didn’t budge. He kept glancing down the hall then back to Conall. She sensed his magic writhing beneath his skin, ready to tear free. But if Vairik really did have something in place to detect it—

Conall dared to grip Rion’s wrist and Rion’s blade dug deeper. “Move,” Conall hissed.

“No.” It was single word marked with absolute resolve. There was no way Rion was going back into a cell, even if it meant discovery. Arianna quickly glanced around for anotheralternative. A crack, a crevice, an open place in the ceiling—too late.

The males rounded the corner and stopped before them, their gazes blinking as if they were seeing a group of ghosts. Perhaps, for a moment, they believed they were.

As if materializing from thin air, Gavin stepped from one of the cells. She hadn’t even seen him enter. That meant Raevina was here too. “At ease,” he commanded, his voice surprisingly calm. “They’re with me.”

The males glanced between one another and Gavin continued. “We were told to clear the cells to make room for the others.” Gavin loosed an exaggerated sigh. “It’s tedious, as I’m sure you’re already aware. Care to lend a hand while you’re down here?”

One of the males opened his mouth to respond, then stopped. He studied Gavin, squinting in the dark. “Aren’t you the High Lord’s Grandson?”

Gavin nodded, unfazed. She’d never see him look so … mature. “If you—”

“There’s quite the price on your head, little lord.” Gavin’s face visibly paled. He’d mentioned Vairik’s discovery of his betrayal. She supposed everyone knew now.

The guard withdrew a pair of shackles from his belt. “I believe he used the word traitor.” The male clicked his tongue in disgust. “I wonder if he’ll throw you into a cell with that little whore from Móirín. He said you’d grown quite obsessed with his new pet. What was her name again? Evel—”

The male didn’t have time to finish his sentence. Arianna’s magic broke free, racing across the space before she’d even commanded it. It cracked and spread, climbing up the walls, digging into crevices and engulfing their bodies within seconds. They hadn’t even had time to scream.

White-hot rage burned through her body, igniting the magic even further. It crawled down the hall, extinguishing the flames one by one until everything before her was bathed in darkness.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, each exhale marked with steam. Anger pulsed through her that didn’t feel like her own. It clawed at the very fabric of her being, begging to conquer. Begging for control.

“Arianna.” The voice was familiar and foreign, but a light tug on the bond rooted her back to the present. Arianna reigned in her rage, willing the magic back into submission before turning to face those behind her. They all stared with mouths gaping and eyes wide.

“Beautiful,” Conall whispered. Jagged spikes surrounded her feet, as if they’d been ready to root her to the ground. Frost coated her hands and arms in a light layer. She melted everything with half a thought.

Rion watched her, his own breath ragged. They were both angry, ready for war, and she knew, right here in this moment, that if Arianna chose to charge down the halls, he’d follow without a second thought. Judging from Talon’s expression, he would too.

“We can deposit the bodies in the river.” Conall offered. “No one will know the difference.”

“Won’t their higher ups miss their return?” Talon asked, still staring at the males that’d been frozen with their mouths gaping.

“By the time they realize, it won’t matter.”

“I thought you said there wouldn’t be patrols,” Rion snarled, staring at Conall as if he might do away with him right there.

“There usually aren’t.” He was surprisingly calm for someone pinned against a wall with a blade to his throat.

Arianna could feel her mate’s anger down the bond. The fear. She stepped toward him and placed a hand on his arm. Rion’s gaze slid to hers. “Let him go,” she said. “He can’t predict everything.”

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