Page 101 of The Revered and the Pariah

“Why doesn’t it bother you?” Rion asked.

Ellie turned to study two other vests hanging on the wall. He prayed she wouldn’t make him change again. “Why doesn’t what bother me?”

“My magic.”

She turned to look at him. Her eyes were so much like Arianna’s. A lighter color, but the sincerity in them was the same. Ellie just shrugged. “Why should it? And before you give me the whole I’ve done terrible things speech, I’ve already heard it.” She sighed. “I had to study you for an entire semester at school when we were learning about Brónach.”

“And that makes me question it even more.”

She finally decided on a gold tie and threw the other on a desk. Ellie placed the tie around his neck and Rion stiffened, fighting the urge to harden his magic around her body. She was so close to his throat. One strike and he’d be gone. He’d seen how fast she could move.

Ellie’s movements slowed, but she did nothing else to indicate she noticed. “Maybe I like to draw my own conclusions. I hate being told how I’m supposed to feel.” Rion eyed Kirian, wondering if the half-breed had something to do with the comment. Then again, maybe everything she did centered on defying her father, too.

“Let me ask you something,” Ellie said, stepping back to look him over as if he were a piece of art. “Why do you push everyone away?”

“What do you mean?” He loosened his magic, glad for the distance she’d put between them.

“You keep reminding us of your sins as if you expect us to change our minds or something.”

Rion raised a brow. “Because I do.”

“Why?”

“I—” Because he didn’t think they understood the depth of the atrocities he’d committed. Rion lowered his voice. “Because she deserves someone better.”

He averted his gaze and Ellie cocked her head. “Someone like Niall?”

A low growl escaped before Rion could stop it, but Ellie didn’t flinch. She smiled instead and moved to lean against a desk. Kirian watched as if frozen.

“You can’t have it both ways, you know. You can’t keep pushing her away, then get angry if someone else comes along.”

“I don’t trust that male.”

She thought for a moment. “Okay, then what about Talon?”

His lips parted. Talon was an honorable male. Loyal. Rion knew he and Arianna shared a small history. He turned away from Ellie unable to stomach the images creeping into his mind.

Ellie sighed. “You make her sad.” Rion lifted his head at that. “I don’t know if you see it or feel it or whatever, but every time you speak as if you’re unworthy, I can see how much it hurts her.” He did too, but— “She loves you,” Ellie said and walked closer, examining his clothes again. “She’s never been like this around another male. Never. Talon included, and even Talon can see that. It’s why he doesn’t challenge you.”

Ellie smiled at him. “So here’s what you’re going to do tonight. When Niall or anyone else takes her hand, you’re going to remind yourself that Arianna loves you. That she chose you and no one else could possibly win her heart the way you have.”

His own heart swelled as she continued. “You’re going to watch her dance and have the time of her life and you’re going to learn about the Arianna before a life of slavery. You’re going to see her with new eyes and know, in your heart, that you can trust her. Because Arianna is yours and there is nothing in this world strong enough to tear you two apart.”

Chapter Thirty-nine

Saoirse

The entire place was a mixture of anticipation, sweat, silk dresses, and alcohol. Saoirse downed her glass of champagne and wished for something stronger.

She’d already met the queen, though she hoped to have a more in-depth conversation with her once fancy obligations were out of the way.

She smirked, remembering her brother’s pensive stance, but something about him also seemed calmer. Happier. It made her chest swell. To know that this young female could bring any sort of joy to her brother’s otherwise miserable life was nothing short of a miracle.

Gods ordained indeed.

But something else caught her attention tonight. Despite the twirling females and handsome males that glanced her way, Saoirse couldn’t stop staring at one female who lingered in the back. She twisted her gloved hands and looked so unsure of herself. Such a difference from the female who had knocked Saoirse on her ass.

Zylah. A half-breed with magic and, judging from the way she’d chosen her words, in possession of at least a bit of a Fae’s immortality.

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