Page 91 of Guardians of the Assassins
She had to shake her head to banish her thoughts, then cleared her throat, her voice raspy when she spoke. “What’s your plan?”
Something reflected in Caedmon’s yellow eyes, like he could almost read her thoughts, and she flushed when she realized that he could no doubt smell her arousal. He licked his lips, a tiny, sexy smirk curling the corner of his mouth.
Then he blinked, and the heat between them vanished. “Follow my lead. No matter what happens, you must not get caught up in the trap. You need to finish the trials, or none of us will get out of Faerie alive. Understand?”
She nodded at his solemn tone. “I’ll run, but know that I’ll come back for you.”
It was a vow.
She would not be swayed from her decision, and she glared at them, daring them to protest.
“I know.” Caedmon’s face softened, like he’d never had anyone care enough to watch his back.
The knowledge made her heart ache, and she vowed to do better and show him he now had a family.
Without saying anything else, he turned on his heel and entered the village. The hushed silence was eerie. Not even the insects dared make a sound and draw attention to themselves. There was a wrongness to the village that she couldn’t quite name, and icy fingers of dread slid down her back like the grim reaper was reaching for them.
“Do elves really live like this?” Morgan glanced around the humble surroundings. For some reason, she was expecting majestic buildings and beautiful artistry, not a village just one step up from a hovel.
“Not all fae are of a royal family.” Atlas kept his response simple, but there was a darkness in his tone that worried her. “When you displease the royals, you are banished and forced to make your own way. In a place where rules are valued above all else, it leaves many people with few options.”
He was speaking from personal experiences.
Her throat ached as she imagined him living in such a place like this as a small child. No wonder he came to the Academy. “Why do they stay?”
She didn’t understand why people wouldn’t want a fresh start away from people who’d turned their backs on them.
“Most refuse to leave Faerie. They’re connected to the land on a deeper level. We can feel the wind, the scent of plants, the brush of sun on our skin. It’s like it talks to us. It’s where we getour magic. Leaving it is like cutting off a limb. Most would rather die.” The stiff set of his shoulders let her know how much he must have sacrificed.
“Yet you left.” It had to be painful and heartbreakingly lonely.
“My family wanted something from me that I was unwilling to give. They wouldn’t have stopped pursuing me until they got what they wanted.” He shrugged his shoulder like it wasn’t a big deal.
“What did you want?” She was startled to realize that she’d never really asked about his past.
Tension seeped away from him at her question, and he flashed her a grin. “You. It just took me a while to figure it out.”
Damn if her heart didn’t skip a beat at the simple declaration. It wasn’t extravagant or a flowery vow of undying love.
It was better.
It was rough and heartfelt and beautiful.
Before she could respond, a door to the long house at the center of the village opened. A tall, slim woman, who looked like she’d skipped too many meals, slipped out. Her eyes widened at the sight of them, and she waved them forward. “You must hurry before they get here.”
Atlas dropped back a step, sliding his arm around her waist, and hurried her forward. Caedmon spun, sword aloft as he surveyed the village, walking backwards toward the main building. The woman practically twitched with the need to shove them through the door, and she quickly followed, barely slipping through before she shut it behind her with a thump.
Two waiting men placed a heavy weighted bar across the entryway, and everyone stepped back, watching like they expected the devil himself to come knocking at any moment. Morgan glanced around at the people, and her heart sank.
They were elves, but not like she’d ever seen. While they were no less stunning, the fierceness she was used to seeing was gone. Their hair was less vibrant, their eyes faded, their skin almost gray, like the life had been beaten out of them. Seeingthem look so lost and hopeless made her want to hunt down those responsible and rip out their souls.
There were maybe twenty in total, most of the women had one or two children hanging on their skirts. The kids had big eyes that had seen too much horror. They were listless, no laughter, no smiles, no goofing off. It was like they were small mannequins.
The men were bigger and stronger, but not by much. It was obvious that anyone who was able to leave had already fled the village. All that remained were the ones who were too sick or had nowhere else to go. Most had little to no magic, like Faerie had already given up on them, which pissed her off even more.
“What’s going on?” She mentally cringed when Caedmon shot her an exasperated look.
Whoops!
