“Isn’t she your sister?” the other man asked as he sat on a stool, slicing an apple into small pieces. From where I lay slumped against the wall, I still couldn’t tell which type of Fae he was, or if he was of another Caste. He’d been such a convincing Ryder, so he had to be some sort of Fae, and he had to be powerful if he could open a portal. Impersonating Ryder, I knew, would be an automatic death sentence, so this guy had to have giant balls to have done so in the castle with the real beast in it.
“No, she’s a traitorous bitch who I plan to ruin. By the time I’m finished with her she will know real pain, and she will beg me for death!” he was spitting. His hands ripped at my dress and he grabbed my arms as he pulled me back up onto my feet, until I stood before him wearing only my bra and panties on.
“Faolán, do not touch her. This wasn’t the agreement we made. I trade her to you, you trade her to the Mages, and you give me my sister back,” the other man said as his eyes slid over my tummy. He looked like Light Fae, but it was hard to see or concentrate through the pain. “If you try to fuck her, she will give birth to the Horde King’s spawn now, and unless you plan on delivering them yourself, I’d stop this very minute. She’s in labor, you fucking idiot.”
“I’m done waiting! She’s bested me at every turn, and I’m through waiting for my revenge. She took my birthright; mine!” he snarled as he slapped me again.
I had blood oozing from my eyebrow, nose, and lip. I coughed up blood, and felt my eyes roll to the back of my skull as he backhanded me yet again. The other man shot out of his chair and grabbed Faolán’s arm before he could hit me again.
“Enough!” he growled, daring Faolán to try for one more. “She can’t even fucking hit you back,” he said calmly. “I will not watch as you fuck your sister, or hurt her anymore. Do you understand me?”
“I’m going to rip your balls out of your throat!” I shouted, surprising both of the men in the room. “Do you have any idea how dead you are?” I snarled as I finally found my voice.
“He won’t find you,” Faolán said shaking out of the other man’s grip as he smiled and picked the knife back up. “They plan to cut you open, sister dear, like this,” he said as he pointed the sharp tip of the knife up and cut delicately into the flesh at the top of my collar bone, slowly cutting a thin, fine line down to my pubic bone. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it burned like hell. “To here, then after they pull the fucking brats out, I’ll take your powers, and then I’ll fuck your rotting corpse until it grows cold and even then, I’ll use it when the need suits me. You see, I have a way of reanimating the dead, as you found out with Joseph, so I could bring you back at my will, and kill you again and again, sweet sister.”
“You seriously need counseling,” I whispered and then gasped as he slapped me again.
“That’s enough,” the other man said as his eyes slid over me with something akin to regret.
“Dyson, I’ll fucking tell you when she’d had enough!”
Dyson stood stiffly, and shook his head. “She’s in labor, you fool. What you are doing is unnecessary and will only bring on the babes faster,” he growled and glanced down swiftly.
I narrowed my eyes through the unmanageable pain and tried to see what they had. My feet were soaked, and unless I’d somehow managed to pee myself, I was pretty sure my water had broken, and I was now out of time. The babies were coming and no one was coming to save them.
Chapter Eight
*~*Ryder*~*
I wait in my office for Ristan to answer my call, as I weigh and consider my options. It was a delicate situation, one I wasn’t prepared for, but one I couldn’t ignore either. I watch as Ristan sifts in, his mind elsewhere. He turns and takes in the anger I’m churning with.
“What’s up?” he asks, his silver and black pattern eyes narrowing as he watches me.
“Where have you been the past few days?”
“Alden used the link I gave him; he said it was urgent and I tend to believe him,” Ristan’s tone is even; unaware that he’s a few words away from being dead.
“He needed you directly after you sent Synthia to the throne room?” I ask, his eyes watching me as they narrow even further.
“Yes,” he continues. “What does it matter? You knew of this agreement, and you know Alden means a lot to Synthia, brother,” he says, reminding me of our bond.
“Why did you send her to the throne room?” I ask as my beast watches him for any sign of weakness, willing to rip his throat out if he lies.
“Because you told me to,” he says, and then he shakes his head. “I fail to see where this needed immediate response.”
“I’m giving you this courtesy because we are blood. You are my brother, and together we’ve been through a lot,” I say and try to word it correctly, since lying is something Ristan can do.
“What am I being accused of?” he growls, directly getting to the point, his silver and black pattern eyes swirl, watching me.
“You sent Synthia to the throne room, where she was attacked by Mages.”
I watch as the blood leaves his face and his eyes open wide and then he’s moving towards me. “Is she okay? Are the babies okay?” he demands. His voice filled with pain as he watches me. And then he stops. “I didn’t set her up, I’d never do that to her,” he assures me as his hands comb through his hair and he scrubs his face with worry. “Answer me, please, are they okay?”
“They are fine. She escaped and killed those who attacked her. The question is, why did you send her to the throne room and tell her it was at my request?” he falters for a moment and his throat works.
“Because you asked me to,” he says softly, very much afraid. My brother isn’t afraid of anything, so his fear is not for himself.
“I did no such thing, Ristan,” I say and watch him cautiously.
“You met me in the corridor on my way to see her and requested she join you in the throne room!” His voice is louder this time, as if he is trying to convince himself of what he saw. I reach out and feel his mind. Fear for Synthia and the babes is all I find at the forefront of his mind. I find the memory and it is as he said. He believes he met with me and I asked him to bring her. My brother didn’t betray us.
“No, I never asked you to send her there, which means the Mages are both braver and bolder than we had anticipated. The babes are fine; their mother is quite the little warrior Goddess, even pregnant. Thankfully,” I say.
“I would never harm Synthia or your children, Ryder. I’ve grown very fond of her in the time she’s been here, and even before. I promise you this now, I will hunt down whoever it was who deceived me and I will kill him for you as a gift.”
“That’s not our goal right now, but thank you. What makes this so disturbing is if someone could impersonate me well enough to trick you—I need to find Synthia,” I growl as I push away from the desk and sift to the women’s pavilion.
The sunroom that she likes to relax in is void of her presence. I can feel an emptiness which only comes when she closes herself off to me; it’s just like when Joseph had her and I couldn’t feel her anymore. I don’t like it. I’m beyond pissed. My body shakes with anger and I find a focus point as Darynda comes into the sunroom from one of the entrances and looks around.
“Where is she?” I demand.
“She…uh, she was here. Right there,” she stumbles over her words as her slim finger points to the very empty chair.
“She isn’t there now; if you’ve helped her to escape or have agreed to help my enemies, I will end you,” I warn her, my voice filled with deadly promise I will keep.
“I swear it! She was right there, I mean, she was when I stepped out a few moments ago. She has to be here!”
She is about to get hysterical and I don’t have time for it. I didn’t miss Synthia by much. I can smell her sweet scent still. I call
the guard violently. Zahruk sifts in, his eyes searching for threat instantly.
“Synthia is missing. Search the entire castle for her,” I growl. One by one they sift in and then out. I stand perfectly still, using my magic to search for her, but she’s gone. I can feel that the medallion is still here, but she’s no longer in possession of it…which means someone has removed it from her neck. I eye the room, sensing for it as I leave the room—because it’s not here. It’s close, though. Synthia is powerful, and I’m not sure if she can shield both the necklace and the mark.
I turn and walk out of the sunroom, searching the corridor, following her scent even as I change forms. He’s better with scents and tracking and he’s shaking the fucking cage. Wings unfurl from my back, the pain of the shift brief as I don’t fight it.
At the end of the hall is the medallion. I reach down swoop it up, smelling it. It’s male. I don’t recognize the scent. I growl from deep in my chest and turn to find my men watching me, waiting for me to give them direction. My eyes take in the blood on the floor, and I feel eviscerated as I determine my next move.
I can’t feel her connection through the mark either. It’s a bad sign, very bad.
“She’s with a male,” I snarl; the kick to my gut is raw and brutal. The beast growls deadly, the thought of another male touching our woman is un-fucking-thinkable.
“She’s no longer in the walls of this Kingdom,” Zahruk says as he dares to step closer.
“She left here with another warrior,” Claire states as she moves close to me, pushing her way through my men. “I was coming to find you, Ryder,” she says as she moves closer and tries to place her hand on my chest. I catch it and twist it painfully.
“What man did she leave with?” I seethe, watching as her pupils dilate.
“I’ve seen him around a few times; they were practically all over each other, and she doesn’t deserve you. Not like I do,” she whispers seductively.
For a brief second I hesitate, but the thought of someone impersonating me well enough to fool my own brother burns through my mind, then Syn’s eyes full of desire and love flash in my mind, and I know her; she’s not deceitful, not with me. She wouldn’t leave me without saying something. She isn’t like that; she’d come up to me and slap it in my face, but she wouldn’t hide it from me. Reason returns and I realize that males aren’t permitted in the pavilion unless they have medallion marking them as mine, so this male had to have had help to access this place. My eyes narrow on the simpering beauty before me.
I slam Claire against the wall, my wings pinning her in as I allow the fangs in my mouth to elongate and my eyes to fully change to obsidian, giving the beast full control. “You play with words, wench. I’ll give you two seconds to tell me the truth in its entirety before I end you.”
She’s shaking, her hands visibly so. She’s never been this close to the beast and he loves the fear in her eyes, loves the heady scent that wafts from her feeding us both. The beast loves fear, and he’s excited for the chance to make a kill.
“Have it your way,” I say as I reach out with my magic, watching as Claire feels the blood in her veins as it begins to boil. The pain on her face is priceless as she realizes I’m burning her from the inside, and she can’t stop it. No one can except for me.
“No!” she screams and huge tears fill her eyes. “I just wanted her gone!”
“Is that so? And tell me you stupid bitch; did it slip your imbecilic mind that you wanted her gone while she was heavily pregnant with my children?” I say, and it’s barely above a whisper. I can feel my men as they relish the excitement of the beast, wanting the kill as much as he does.
Her eyes flick to my men as if she’s looking for help. “Zahruk,” I growl and he steps up, his eyes gleefully aware of what I want. His clothing changes to his robes and he bares his brands as he whispers words that draw on his mother’s powers. He lays his hand on her forehead and projects for all of us what happened in this hall.
He’d used it on Syn before, and she’d hated me for it. I step away as she slides to her knees, as he pulls her past and replays the few minutes she’d had with Synthia. We all watch silently as she pleads for Zahruk to stop, but he continues.
I watch as Synthia follows me, or who she thinks is me, into the hallway and away from her guards. She thought it was me, up until the bolts are shoved through her tender flesh. Only then did she realize her mistake. Too late.
I don’t know the man who pretended to be me; don’t care, because he’s already dead. I watch as a portal is opened in the corridor, and she’s carried through it.
“Aodhan, trace and locate where that portal goes. Zahruk, ready the men for war,” I say, knowing it will be a dead end.
My men are ready, and as Claire stands up once more, I turn in her direction. “Asrian, take Claire to the lower levels and await me there.” I turn to my men who have already glamoured their armor on.
I glamour my armor on in anticipation of getting my woman back safely. I search through this world and the next for the mark, letting the beast do it this time, to track her through the bond they share and the mark alike.
As we get ready to sift out, Ristan shakes himself out of a vision. Probably the first he has had in a month. “Ryder, I know where she is, and this is very bad,” he says grimly. His eyes fill with despair that I won’t accept.
I’ll find her, and I’ll save her.
Chapter Nine
*~*Synthia*~*
I was slammed roughly against the floor as the Mages entered the room. They looked like Humans; no brands, no markings, or anything identifying them as being even partly Fae. They reminded me of Joseph and his ability to hide what he was; Changelings. They spoke to each other in low voices, and in a strange dialect I couldn’t identify or understand.
“The babies come,” Faolán called to them with malice in his sickening tone. It scared me with the sheer volume of hatred in it. The pains were growing closer and stronger now. I knew it meant I was running out of time and soon I’d have to push or chance the babes dying inside of me. Right now I wasn’t sure I’d get a choice as the Mages continued to pour into the room.
“Place her on the stone; it’s time to finish this,” one said coldly. He produced a dagger from the sleeve of the black cloak he wore, and then whispered to the candles, which leapt to life and bathed the room in the gentle glow of candlelight. I hadn’t been able to make out much of the room before but now with it finally lit, I could.
They began to chant, and as I watched, the entire room transformed. The magic they were using was the same as I used before I discovered I was fully Fae. In the middle of the room was a stone slab, which looked like something out of a medieval era. I was roughly picked up and placed on it, and angry hands held me down as chains were slipped around my hands and legs.
I couldn’t move, and I felt the power draining from me from the bolts still lodged in my shoulders. I watched as the male who had posed as Ryder moved forward briefly, as if he was unsettled with what he had done, but then he sifted out, leaving me to a fate worse than death.
“Stop this, please!” I begged the Mages. “They’re just babies!” I hate that I’m begging these hateful beings for anything, but for the lives of my tiny unborn babes, I’d beg. To save them I’d give my own life, or anything I could to give them a chance for life.
The knife was brought closer as hands held my motionless limbs in place—as if they were afraid I would break through the chains and fight them. I was spread out like a sacrifice. Tears of helplessness fell freely, and when the chants began, so too did my anger. “I’ll gut you all! I’ll eat out your fucking hearts like a Demon! Pussies! You stupid useless waste of beings! Hiding behind your hoods; take these bolts out and fight me! Me! Not the helpless beings you plan to kill! Fight me! You murderous bastards,” I seethed.
They ignor
ed me and continued on task as they chanted around the stone slab. The one closest to me watched me with wonder in his eyes. As if he found it amazing that I was willing to challenge them even bound and helpless.
I was about to challenge him directly when something exploded into the room. I lifted my head as best as I could with the bolts still in, and watched as the man who had saved me from Faolán at mine and Adam’s handfasting, fought singularly against the Mages. His eyes were wild as he took down as many as he could.
“Cailean?” Faolán growled and moved in his direction. I screamed out to Cailean, and he sifted, his hand pulling out one of the bolts which gave me a slight reprieve. He hadn’t removed both, which left me still unbearably weak and unable to do much. Instead of challenging the Mage closest to me, I reached out with my weakened power and tried to blast him, but it only seemed to shock him. I pushed more power into it, and watched as he exploded, but it drained me. I was about to try another one when I felt the bolt being shoved back into my chest violently.
Someone had stabbed it into my chest instead of my shoulder without taking into account the proximity to my heart. I screamed in agony and ceased struggling as I fell back against the unforgiving slab. I coughed violently and winced as blood from my lungs splattered across the closest Mage to me.
I searched the room and fray for Cailean, and watched as he was downed by Faolán. I coughed again, but just as hope was failing, something struck through Faolán’s shoulder, impaling him. He looked down at his shoulder, and then up into my savior’s unforgiving gold and obsidian eyes. Faolán screamed in anger and frustration at his attacker, and then he was gone, sifting out at the first sign of losing, as usual.
The Elite Guard was here, fighting against the Mages.