Page 46 of Seized to Sacrifice
Aye, he'd not meant to rut her like an animal. He'd not meant to hurt her,
not meant to take her so roughly. He'd especially not meant for the others to see.
In truth, it hadn’t even crossed his mind that she'd be a maiden … so different from the woman that she had been before who’d been steeped in sex and pleasure. But she was practically a novice here and now and her face as he’d been her first was not one he would readily forget.
In all these long years, Ryder had had his share of females, but never anyone he’d cared about as he’d once cared about her. Nowhere near.
He rubbed his eyes in weariness as he thought about the words that he'd said to her afterwards with the others standing there, seeing and hearing everything.
He couldn't let them know that he’d wanted her, that she was already seeping into his veins when he’d warned them away from her for exactly that reason. He still hated her, didn’t he?
He should! Endless, unwanted life alone because of her!
He pounded his fist on the table and stood up, briskly walking to the window of the library, watching Thorne riding his black steed into the forests on his way to Evesmere with the message that would bringhimto their doorstep.
Not for the first time, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. She had come here for a reason. But he supposed that as soon as they met up with the Dark Army, they’d be well on their way to finding out what that reason was. They had some time.
Perhaps it was too soon to involvehim, but they couldn’t live like this anymore. The days, months, years, centuries seeping into each other here. The tedium they felt boring into them like a deathwatch beetle, eating away at their sanities. How long before they all went the way of the Beast?
He turned back and saw that the table where he’d hit it was singed black and his mouth fell open in astonishment. He’d conjured accidentally. He didn’t make enough magick to do that anymore and he hadn’t in many years. He looked at his hand. It wasn’t possible … was it?
He tried a basic conjure, the kind that wasted magick, and a flame erupted in his palm. His heart was hammering in his chest. He’d been without it for so long … How could it suddenly come back?
He’d been with Elle.
He left the library, his body humming. He fought the urge to try more magick; and he fought the urge to cry as tears welled in his eyes. He felt whole again. He felt likea faeagain. He needed to speak to her, find out why she would help him. Had she done it on purpose?
He reigned in his thoughts. He couldn’t burst into Nyx’s chambers as if he hadn’t done what he’d done. He should let Nyx know that they would be leaving soon and see how Elle fared first. Nyx might well want to give him a beating as well. His Brother was already protective of Elle.
Rye knew that he should try to keep them apart, but it had been a long time since his Brother had shown interest in anything other than sitting in his chamber and letting himself waste away. The man rarely even ate these days though he usually drank enough every night to fell a horse.
Thorne wasn’t much different these days either, except perhaps that he was angrier. They could hardly have a conversation without raised voices any longer.
Rye found himself outside of Nyx’s door, but before he knocked, he listened to what was happening within. Hearing nothing, he scratched at the wood and Nyx opened it a momently later, oddly enough in his true form, towering over even Rye.
‘What do you want?’ Nyx murmured in a low voice, making Rye think Elle was asleep.
‘We need to talk,’ he said quietly.
Nyx’s eyes narrowed but stepped aside, letting Rye slip into the room.
She was in the bed on her back, her hands up beside her head on the pillow, fingers curled into soft fists. He made his eyes leave her.
What do you want?’ Nyx asked again. ‘Don't worry about her. The dead couldn’t wake her at the moment.’
‘Aye,’ Rye murmured wryly. ‘I can smell the evidence of her exhaustion in the air.’
Nyx shrugged. ‘Once again you left me to pick up the pieces, Brother. You recall I was always good at comforting her.’
‘So you’re finally seeing that she is Elle.’
Nyx nodded. ‘In some ways. Yet, in others, she is not, as you well know now.’
Rye ignored him. He didn’t want to speak of that now.
‘My magick is returning,’ he said bluntly.
‘Are you sure?’ Nyx looked surprised. ‘I thought you couldn’t—’
