Page 35 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
“What exactly happened to her in Fellgotha?” Drystan snarls, evidently just as riled by this news as my snarling wolf is.
Caed stands. “I protected her.”
“She wouldn’t have needed protection if you’d left her alone!” I snarl. “The fae would’ve?—”
“The fae tried to kill her, too.” Prae glowers at the flames. “Her own people tried to ‘save’ her by assassinating her. Does that shock you?”
No. But it does scare me. How bad was Rose’s treatment that the fae would rather sacrifice their Goddess than watch her suffer more?
“What did you fuckers do?” Drystan growls, his attention still trained on Caed. “No normal fae would risk harm to Danu unless the alternative was worse.”
Prae moves between the three of us, looking at Bree like he can back her up.
The púca shakes his head. “At this point, I think letting them fight it out would be easier,” he murmurs. “What happened beneath the mountain is past.” He stands, brushing moulted black feathers from his lap as he spears Caed with a haunted look. “Respect her, treat her well, earn her forgiveness, and I will consider giving you mine.” He turns to Drystan and me. “We have already discussed my feelings on the matter, so I won’t repeat myself. I won’t even tell you to make it easy on him, because I’m aware your high fae pride needs him to grovel. If you’re smart, you’ll realise that your maltreatment will only give Rose more reason to pity his sorry hide.”
He leaves the fireside, heading after Lore and Rose without another word, but his cat ears swivel, staying trained on us long after we’re out of earshot.
Drystan curses and stands, heading for his horse with a glower.
Shit. Bree’s right. If we’re too horrible to the Fomorian, Rose’s big heart will only forgive him faster.
I’ve seen a hundred visions of him murdering our Nicnevin, and my wolf has unsurprisingly deemed him the greatest threat. Providing he doesn’t fuck up, Rose will let him in to her circle. When that happens, I don’t think I can watch him touch her, love her, without my beast snapping and killing him.
“You don’t deserve her,” I spit at him. “She’ll forgive you, because that’s who she is, but you will never, ever deserve any of it.”
There’s a sparkle of vulnerability in his turquoise eyes for half a second, a flash of pain in the stiffening of his shoulders, but he shrugs and levels a cocky grin at me.
“Aww, wolf-boy, it almost sounds like you care.”
It takes all of my self-control not to pummel him into the ground where he stands. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if he showed so much as an ounce of contrition, but outside of that short, earlier apology to Rose, his sarcastic walls remain sky high.
And, no. The fact that he brought her along on a fool-ass rescue mission thatsomehowwent off without a hitch is not working in his favour. I would rather have gone mad in that cage than put Rose in danger.
He should be on his knees, grovelling at Rose’s feet. Begging to be in her presence. I turn away in disgust before I can try—and fail—to deck him.
It would be easier if he wasn’t such a smug prick, but I am a knight of Elfhame. I have some dignity. I cross to where Drystan already has a map of Faerie open and pressed against Blizzard’s saddle.
“What route are we taking?” I ask him. “The coastal road is out, obviously.”
He nods, tracing the main northeast road we were planning to take with a thoughtful grimace.
“We avoid the roads.” He traces a route through the forests, connecting the tiny dots which represent shrines—none of which were on the original route. “And she can’t bless every single shrine. That will give us away.”
“Agreed. Just a few until we reach the Autumn Court.”
Eero’s reach is far, but attacking the Nicnevin outside of his own court would bring down the wrath of Cressida. That’s a line even he would be hesitant to cross.
“As soon as we cross the Apporas, we’ll have to turn our attention to Fomorian patrols.” He traces the long border river with a finger, and I grimace.
The Autumn Court has probably been hit hardest by this war. Unlike Winter, with their harsh, unforgiving mountains, thetrees of the forest are easily burned down or felled to make more Fomorian death machines. The fae there have suffered more than any others in the realm.
And now we’re going to ask them to accept Rose as high queen with one of the culprits at her side.
Ten
Rhoswyn
By the time we’ve finished, and I’ve cleaned up once more in the spring, the others have packed down camp and erased all evidence that we were ever here. Drystan is waiting beside Blizzard at the head of the line, with Caed and Prae predictably waiting at the back.
