Page 22 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

For a moment, I forgot to breathe. He'd gone to Greenhollow to get information from Raina.

"Is she alive?" I demanded.

Nox spun at the sound of my voice.

“Y-yes,” Lorne panted. “I ... inter ... interrupted.”

“Interrupted what?” I strode forward, lowering to Lorne's level.

“Taking ... they took ...” he groaned in agony.

My shoulders flexed. “They took her? Who, Lorne? Who fucking took her?!” my tone grew frantic.

Lorne collapsed and Nox had to steady him so he wouldn't slide off the small exam table.

Sage came running in with a group of healers behind her, pushing me out of the way and shouting orders. In my periphery, I saw Aeryn walk inside.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from Lorne's back, from the arrows sticking out. Three rings of red were painted on the crest of each shaft. Black fletchings with streaks of gold.

“We'll get her back, Liam," Nox vowed. “Come to my study."

He hadn't noticed. I tore my gaze away from Lorne. “The arrows, Nox. Look at the fucking arrows.”

Nox's face blanked then swung back to me. “Liam, don't you fucking dare! Don't–”

Without thought, I portaled away.

Four

Raina

Minutes earlier ...

The kick to my upper back knocked the wind out of me. My spear clanked as it bounced on the floor. Weaponless, I rolled out of the way before the next strike landed, getting my bearings.

Shouts and curses, and the metallic ring of swords colliding, meant my unexpected visitor had jumped into the fray. There was no way Lorne knew I was in trouble before he arrived.

I couldn't fathom what brought him here at this hour, but it was nothing good.

As I got to my feet, a flash of Lorne's yellow hair caught my attention, fifteen feet and a gang of miscreants between us. I needed to get to him so he could shadow-walk us both out of here, assuming we could distance ourselves from these goons for the second it would take to disappear.

My frost magic surged, ice crystals forming around my hands. I lunged at the nearest attacker, slamming an ice-encased fist into his gut. He crumpled with a wheeze.

Whirling, I caught a sword aimed at my head and sent it clattering across the room with a burst of magic. Two more attackers rushed me and I ducked between them, shoving out with hands full of daggers made of ice.

They weren't giving up easily though. These weren't just bandits. They knew what they were doing. Knew who I was. Knew my name.

Panic licked at my insides but I shoved it away. I couldn't afford—a familiar yell cut through the din.

Lorne!

He stood near the doorway, the points of arrows protruding out of his chest and shoulder, face pale but determined. Where had those arrows come from? Were there more lying in wait outside?

Blood trickled out of his mouth and nose. Our eyes met across the room and in that second, I heard nothing but the rush of blood in my ears.

Stoic Lorne, who cared for few, who I thought despised me, didn't hesitate to jump in to help when he saw me in trouble. He pulled his sword for me and now he was dying.

Lorne crumpled to the floor, arrows shifting with the movement, and the panic I'd been holding at bay roared through me.

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