Page 38 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

"I havenotbeen moping," I snapped, my face flushing with anger, but Saxon cut me off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Save it, Liam. We both know how you feel about Raina, deep down in your very soul. Deny it all you want, but I'm not interested in convincing you of what you already know in your heart. You have every right to be angry, to loathe her family. You're still hurt by Raina's inability to put you above all else. But did you do the same for her?"

His question took me aback.

"Did you consider for one second the hell her parents put her through and how hard, pathetic as you think it to be, she tried to get her mother and father to love her? Can you even imagine what that's like for a child? Because I can. You wonder what bonded Raina and I together? Give it more than a second and I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Saxon expediently put everything back into the pack, his movements more agitated than I'd ever seen. He handed it to me, but didn't let go.

"If I thought you unworthy, Liam Duersi, I'd have taken her from you already. If you don't pull your head out of your ass, I still might."

The threat rolled down me like lava down the mountain.

Saxon shoved the bag into my chest and flung his own over his shoulder. "Focus on finding her. Everything else can wait. I'll meet you at Ogul's Pass."

Saxon disappeared. As much as I wanted to rage at him, I buried it, strapped a short sword to my waist, and left the armory.

I portaled to the edge of Antara, to where Saxon said he'd be. Fermac was already there, sitting beside his master.

"Ready?" the demigod asked pointedly.

"Lead the way."

As we set off into the night, I felt an uneasy truce settle between us. We were in agreement that the only thing that mattered was the mission at hand.

After we found her? Well, that would be another battle altogether.

The question was, did I want to win it?

Eight

Raina

Consciousness dragged me from the abyss of oblivion into a world of pain. My eyelids fluttered open, and the dim light of the room struck me as if it were the glare of a thousand suns.

I winced, trying in vain to lift my head, only to feel the bite of chains around my wrists and ankles. The cold metal was an unforgiving reminder of my captivity.

"Hells," I muttered under my breath.

The throb that pulsed through every bruise and cut on my body made my stomach roll. My attempt to sit up was thwarted by the chains’ unyielding embrace, keeping me half-sprawled on what felt like a stone slab dressed thinly as a bed.

I squinted, forcing my eyes to adjust. Through the narrow window, I could see other buildings in the capital of Antara.

Vaguely, I remembered our arrival, as we came over the last ridge and the city was revealed. The moon had cast an eerie glow over squat, rectangular buildings, which were surely made of the clays and muds found in the desert.

It resembled one long citadel, formidable and yet strangely intriguing. I must have been severely dehydrated and only half-conscious to have had any curiosity about this place.

Now, in the harsh light of dawn, I had clarity of my predicament, and it looked nothing less than sinister—a mirage to draw you in and seal your doom.

The landscape beyond the low skyline was barren, stretching out like a desolate canvas painted with shades of gray and brown. The heat was almost a physical entity, seeping through the panes and laying over me like a smothering blanket.

It was a scorching heat, one that promised an endless stretch of suffocating days and nights. Hanging in the air was an atmosphere so oppressive it felt as though it sought to crush the very hope from my lungs.

How did anyone expect a frost nymph to survive here? Unless ... they had no such expectation.

"Idiot," I chided myself.

Once sold, my captors wouldn’t care what happened to me. They were merely fulfilling their end of the bargain and cashing in on the sale.

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