A familiar hand touched my shoulder, and I turned toward it. I grasped Ty in what must have been an uncomfortable hug as I tried to gather my wits. I didn’t want Roark to see me weak. To know the pain he’d caused. I had to hide.
A hiss sounded. “Get your filthy hands off her.”
I jerked at his voice. There was a whoosh beside me and the hard sound of a body dropping. I detached myself from Ty and looked down. Roark’s body lay at my feet, his hand stretched out in my direction as he reached for me. I looked to the side at a panting Cora. She held up the handle of a long sword. Conan looked up at her and then at his side, where the sword had hung moments ago.
“You little devil.” Conan’s tone indicated his approval.
“I wasn’t too sure that would work,” she rasped, her eyes alight with shock and adrenaline. “But I figured he was weak enough not to heal automatically.”
“Well bloody done,” Conan said. His eyes shone with pride and lust as they raked over a blushing Cora, who handed his weapon back.
Rian crouched next to Roark and analyzed him. “It would not have worked if he had been at full strength, but he looks like he hasn’t rested in ages.” His voice was thoughtful. “He also seems to have some wounds.”
Him being injured alarmed me, and I hated myself a little for being concerned. Trying to peer at the wounds casually, I saw nothing. Rian must have guessed my thoughts because he suddenly pushed him over to reveal a large gash down his thigh. The wound was open and oozed purple blood. There were colorful leaves and debris dried on it.
My stomach pitched. I wanted to fall to the ground and grab onto Roark, but I stepped away from Ty and fixed my expression into impassivity.
“What would you like us to do?” Ty asked in a gentle tone.
Pursing my lips, I felt foolish. I knew they had some idea of Roark hurting me, but it wasn’t until then that my suspicion was confirmed. I wanted to say so many other things than what came out of my mouth. “I don’t care.”
The words were brave, but the hitch in my voice gave me away. Oh, and the furious pounding of hail against the walls of the castle. I looked away from his still body and tilted my head up. “We need to talk about what you found, Conan. I’ll wait in the planning room.”
I stalked out, pushing against my desire to stay and touch Roark. With every step, my heart pulsed painfully, but I forced myself forward.
I’d seen almost every hall in this sprawling castle, but I’d never actually entered any other room than my bedroom, the training room, and the lookout room, which was what I’d dubbed the little room Ty had shown me.
My Fae-made shoes allowed quick and silent movements, sliding softly against the hard floors as I made my way to the intimidating planning room. Everyone else called it the war room, but I refused to. It just sounded too doom and gloom. Hence the renaming. I was hoping PR would catch on, but I wasn’t having any success.
Still reeling over Roark, I took a breath and stumbled against the wall. Tilting my head back, I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t let the pretty, remnant scraps of what I used to feel for him make me weak. That’s all they were, memories, and I had no desire to walk down memory lane.
I dipped into my magical well and tried to force the weather under control. My fingers twitched with the exertion of electricity running through me. Fear shot through me as my chest expanded. On a gasp, I retreated from the well. When I opened my eyes, the glass ceiling had a layer of snow.
Rolling my shoulders out, I straightened and continued to my destination. Unsurprisingly, I was the only one occupying the room. With a sigh, I took a seat at one of the chairs surrounding the intricate table. I set my elbows on the surface and dropped my head into my hands, groaning as I pulled at my long, dark hair.
“Oh, dear.” Cora’s voice made me shoot up, and I forced a smile. “I know that look.”
“What?” I said innocently.
She shot me a look and twisted her lips as she slid into her chair. “I know you never speak of it, but the whole evasion thing you’ve had whenever he comes up was clue enough.”
Her eyes shone with sympathy as they gazed at me. That’s why I loved her. We’d known each other such a short time, and she’d told me everything about her and Conan, but not once had she ever pushed me to reveal my pain. I guessed that’s why I understood Gracelyn’s evasiveness.
“I just…” I ran my hand through my hair. “He and that evil bitch put me through so much crap. Why do I feel so relieved to see him?” I’d thought I’d kicked the whole feelings for Roark thing. Sure, I’d had momentary lapses involving fantasies of his body and mine, but ignoring them had worked out for me so far.
“Rae,” Cora said gently, and her hand settled on my shoulder. “You’re okay.”
My skin itched. “I just want to go away. I don’t want to be near him, Cora.”
“My dear friend, what exactly did he do to you?”
“He’s my mate,” I rasped and squeezed my eyes shut when I heard her gasp.
“Wha-what? How do you know this?” By the stunned expression on her face, this hadn’t been what she’d guessed.
“That’s why Sabine looked for me. Hag used her dark magic to find me. Not only for that sacrifice to free magic, but also because
