Page 74 of Ashes of Betrayal

Frankly, Bree couldn’t believe Lara still breathed. She’d been sure Gavyn would slit her throat, as his companion had done with Teva. Instead, he’d spared her. Aye, he was a vicious bastard—and had killed without compunction before—but something had stilled his hand this time.

The reason didn’t matter, she supposed—what did, was Lara had survived. Her gaze was currently riveted upon Cailean. He lay on his back, passed out cold.

Bree’s heart lurched. This was her doing. She’d been so caught up in the battle that it had consumed her. Hunting Gavyn had turned her feral. Yet the bastard had escaped. In the meantime, she’d left Lara undefended and put herself in harm’s way.

And as a result, Cailean had taken an arrow that was meant for her.

“The arrow’s poisoned,” she replied, a chill washing over her. Shee poison, Nightbane especially, was lethal.

Lara breathed a curse. She shifted her attention to Bree, gaze narrowing.

“Your neck?” Bree asked, trying to ignore the burgeoning hostility in the princess’s eyes. “Is the cut deep?”

Lara raised a trembling hand to her throat. “I don’t think so,” she replied huskily, even as her fingers came away red. She was shaken by her ordeal, although impressively calm. Bree wasn’t surprised; she’d always sensed Lara was strong.

Mirren approached then, moving to the princess’s side. The lass’s face was ashen, her hands blood-stained.

Both women now stared at Bree, clearly trying to decide who and what she was.

Exhaling sharply, she drew in a deep breath. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

Lara’s eyes widened, while next to her, Mirren murmured an oath. “Fia?”

“My real name’s Bree.” She paused then before adding. “I’m a Shee assassin who was sent to spy on the High King.”

Both women blinked, confusion shadowing their eyes.

“I will tell youeverythinglater,” Bree assured them when neither Tara nor Mirren answered. “But first” —she nodded to the arrow that protruded from Cailean’s side— “he needs a healer.”

Lara’s face tightened, yet she nodded. “Aye … we must seek out Eldra … if she’s still alive.”

A horn blew then, a deep, mournful sound that shook the air.

Lara gasped, relief flaring in her green eyes. “Father.”

Bree’s heart lurched into a gallop. Iron smite her. The last thing she needed was to face Talorc mac Brude right now. She might be able to convince Lara she was a friend, but the High King wouldn’t see past the fact she was Shee.

However, with Cailean lying on the ground next to her, she wasn’t going anywhere.

And so, as the first standards appeared through the clearing smoke, she steeled herself for what was to come.

Figures appeared on horseback, a smaller group than she’d expected. A man, tall and lanky with short fair hair, clad in enforcer black, led them. Once Cailean’s second, Torran mac Rab now led the High King’s enforcers. Blood splattered, his handsome features pale and strained, he drew up his horse, surveying the broken tents and churned-up ground littered with bodies.

His gaze widened as it settled upon Cailean’s prone body and Bree crouched beside him. Torran’s hand strayed to the dagger at his hip, even as his gaze met Lara’s. “What happened here, Your Highness?”

“The Shee attacked us.” Her voice faltered. “The queen is dead.”

Torran’s face went rigid. “Your Highness, I—”

“Didn’t you meet the fleeing Shee and powries on the road?” She cut him off, taking a step forward, her gaze dragging over the company with the chief-enforcer.

Torran shook his head. Bree counted only three other enforcers and barely more than thirty warriors behind him.

A tremor shivered through Lara, and she wrapped her arms around herself. “What happened?” she whispered. “Where’s my father?”

Torran stared back at her, a nerve jumping underneath one eye. “It’s over, Your Highness. Our army is beaten. The Shee hold Cannich.”

Lara stared back at Torran, swaying slightly on her feet. “The High King?”

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