Page 125 of Tales of a Monstrous Heart
‘Rurroc sites do. The runes would have told you that.’ Rurroc were ancient fey that lived long before what we were now. They were how folk could exist so easily on that soil. Why the prayers were so desperate. ‘Earth blessed by bone magic.’
‘You can’t touch them without a vote from three elders of that settlement,’ Emrys added menacingly behind me, without hesitation, trusting every word I gave.
Elders Montagor would never find, not that far north. The Council didn’t have that control. He could burn and plunder all he wished, but there was nothing fey protected more than those who came before.
‘I’ll save you the hassle of trying to find them,’ I interrupted, bringing his hateful glare back to me. ‘If you seek the truth. You should have this.’
There was a clatter as the cursed thing from my pocket bounced across the low table between us. The stark white fragment that left an icy bite on my fingertips. The pain nothing in comparison to the viciousness of my temper.
The fragment I’d found in the Verr pit.
‘The markings are fresh. You can reanimate it if you don’t believe me,’ I told him. I could almost hear the grinding of Montagor’s teeth at the evidence. Finneaus stumbled back at the potency of the thing on the table, the danger it promised. The sting it should have left on my skin. Ithadstung but I’d suffered worse than a brush with a cursed bone. Suffered worse thanhim.
‘I’m certain Lord Percy would be pleased to have it returned, and the Council would love to see how far this darkness goes. How undeniable it is.’ My voice was calm with that truth.
Montagor’s murderous dark gaze had pinned itself to my face and I felt the responding wrath of Emrys’s magic at my back. Like phantom hands curling around my forearms to drag me back.
‘But, you already know that. Don’t you?’ I leant closer, unafraid of him and his games. Emboldened after seeing all those things pinned and dead in that ballroom. After feeling those ruins. Feeling what monsters like him did.
Just as I’d seen that ghost. Those sheet-covered bodies of other fey students on the Institute floor. The smaller bodies deep beneath careless mounds in Daunton’s wood.
I’d seen it all and I would not be silent. Not anymore. Heat wove itself between my ribs, volatile and hungry. Vicious in its hunt for vengeance, just as my ancestors would have been.
The fire behind him surged with a roar as it climbed up the chimney, sending Finneaus scrambling from it with a singed sleeve. Yet it was the monster before me I focused my ire on. Not a foolish boy who knew nothing better than hate.
I let my magic bite. Relished the hissed curse from Montagor’s lips as he pulled back from me and tore his coat open, ripping the pocket watch from inside and letting it clatter onto the threadbare carpet, glowing and warped withmy molten rage. His hand pressed over his chest, breath hissing through his teeth. The smell of burning fabric lingered in the space between us.
Something flickered on Montagor’s face. I could have sworn there were shadows rippling beneath his skin, but in a blink, it was gone. Before I could question my sanity, he moved for me.
Instead of a strike, I was suddenly at Emrys’s broad back, unable to understand how he’d got in front of me so fast.
‘Karuk.’ The word seemed to rumble from somewhere deep in Emrys’s chest. A horrid cold bit into the room as the fire went out, plunging us into a darkness only pierced by the stark moonlight seeping through windows behind me. The dark made Montagor’s features more predatory, as the thunder rumbled above in warning of the coming storm.
That word was like a physical thing, a shadow lingering, familiar and foreign at the same time.
‘Careful, Emrys.’ Montagor sounded breathless, discomfort flashing across his features. ‘You could be seen to bebewitchedby the creature.’
‘I’ll remind you once more.’ Emrys’ voice held a deadly calm, a strange tension moving through his limbs. ‘She’s under the protection of my name. Unless you want me to show you again what happens when you breach our rules?’
Finneaus looked wildly between the two lords, who seemed willing to brawl right there. A horrid pressure built, as if the storm from outside had made its way into the tiny room.
‘In the morning,’ Montagor offered in a smooth and lethal voice as he drew back, almost against his will, fists tight at his side. ‘I’m certain all will be … revealed.’
The words were clumsy through his lips, as if he was failing to swallow them back down. His murderous gaze stuck onEmrys. He sent a sharp glance at Finneaus, who scrambled to pick up the cursed shard from the low table, hissing as the icy thing touched his skin. Then carefully picking up the charred pocket watch, looking quite pale as he followed his new master out of the room.
There was a sharp finality to the slamming of the door, as I pressed my fingers to my chest, skin still chilled despite the ruthless heat of my magic.
‘Emrys.’ I needed his name on my lips, just to taste something less bitter. He turned immediately to me.
Those eyes pits of darkness. There was a stiffness to him, a colder chill to his magic. Something strange and new. He took hold of me, forehead coming down to rest against my own, breath brushing my lips.
His knuckles traced the edge of my jaw. Tentatively. The chill from his magic against my skin, needing to feel that I was real.
‘That word,’ I shook my head with confusion. ‘I haven’t—’
I thought he’d explain, be urgent with warnings and regret. No, he kissed me instead. His lips were dangerous. A mere brush and I wished to tell him every secret I knew. Unlace them from my very being as quickly as I wished he’d unlace this dress.
Forbidden, maddening thoughts. The back of his knuckles grazed the edge of my bodice, barely touching the skin, but my breath caught. Something wild flared in my abdomen, pleasure I’d tempered for too long. Desire as chaotic as my magic.
