“Goddess, please tell me you’ve located him,” Grison groused. The smallest hint of a grin formed at the corner of his partner’s mouth. A rush of excitement hit him, casting aside the ominous clouds he’d been perched beneath for days. “Where?”
“’Twas Cael we traced. He’s returned to visit an acquaintance.” Cecir chuckled, tilting his chin a hairsbreadth higher. His eyes glowed deviously. “He attempted to hide his sifting print, but he doesn’t possess the same gift as Thaddeus.”
His patience was running thin. “Where is he?”
“With the Talaenians.”
Grison’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Aye. Cael sifted to the Talaenian realm. We followed his energy to the castle. Shaye must be housing them.”
“Nay.” Grison shook his head in disbelief. “That half-breed would never lend aid to the man who set foot upon his land with the intent to destroy it and everyone within.”
Cecir’s smile grew. “Don’t discount the possibilities so soon, Grison. Do you fail to see this opportunity?”
Grison narrowed his gaze, settling his thoughts enough to conjure exactlywhatopportunity this presented. A few heartbeats later, realization bloomed. Clarity eased his disbelief, caressing him beneath newly found confidence.
“Should Shaye lend aid to a traitor, he shall be condemned as an accomplice. He places himself, and his entire family, within the possibility of being exiled. He may have become Dagda’s new favorite toy within the Council, but no one can escape Dagda’s wrath for aiding the very creature who ran him through with his own dagger.”
Grison’s lips curled higher, a plan beginning to form. He started to pace, a slow, thoughtful back and forth before the fire, wrapping his fingertips together.
“We send one of the servants, for we cannot afford to lose another soldier. As ’tis, we have to delay our plans while we recruit more men, should we proceed with our strategy to usurp Dagda. Alas, this latest development opens the door for us to do away with not one, but two obstacles. Betrayal is not taken lightly within the Court. ’Twill force Dagda’s hand to punish Shaye after Thaddeus’s execution, handling two of the strongest forces that may cause an issue for us in the future.”
“Grison, before we become too happy, we first need to confirm whether or not Thaddeus is alive. Our report after the failed ambush was that his injuries were fatal. He’d sustained far too much damage from using his magic and there’s a very good probability he is dead.”
Grison spun on Cecir, causing the man to stiffen. He shook a finger. “Do not become complacent, Cecir. He was believed dead after the battle, despite no body being found. We pulled him off that battlefield and saved his life. If Cael has returned to that half-breed’s castle, there’s a reason for it. His mortal woman’s safety isn’t enough for him to abandon the mortal realm.”
“Thaddeus’sanamcararesides within the walls.”
“This goes deeper. Something tells me he’s not dead.” Grison approached the small side table at the arm of his meager sofa and poured himself a glass of wine. “I won’t make the mistake all of Faery made. I want to see his body, shriveled down to bone, before I’ll believe for one moment that he’s dead. So we move forward.” He took a sip, his plan blossoming. Slowly, he turned toward Cecir and smiled, malice licking across his lips. “And this is what we shall do.”
28
Lost.
Completely and utterly lost. Desolate. Empty.
Hurting.
The pain in her chest was what drew her to a stop between two massive marble columns at the end of an open corridor. Rain had begun to fall, and the spray of water hit her as she sprinted down corridor after corridor, with no idea where she was heading, where she had come from. The hurricane within her smothered sense because it consumed her with every poignant emotion Thaddeus’s sharp words induced.
He went from coating her in tenderness and adoration to reverting back to the very Thaddeus she’d seen the night they met. The Arctic chill he emitted, a subfreezing degree that could burn through the hottest flame. Burn. So much like an inferno, but leaving her aching from the residual effects.
Rori fell back against the column, slid down to her ass, and the sob she’d been holding back burst from her chest with the force of every flailing hurt ravaging her body. She curled over on herself, the blossoming agony in her chest tearingdown through her belly, lowering into her legs, consuming her entirely. Her mind swam in the deepest grief she’d ever known.
He'd cast her away with no remorse.
Stared down at her as he had that first night.
Gave his life for another woman.
An anguished wail poured from her mouth as she beat a fist to the marble floor. No feeling. Thaddeus may as well have taken his dagger and flayed her wide open, mercilessly slashing through every vital organ until all she knew was a pain that drove deeper than anything physical.
He’d shattered her soul.
At some point, the sobs began to subside, leaving behind an unnatural numbness. A few softer sobs caught in her chest. Rain drizzled over her head and hair, misted down her body. Droplets washed away the tears, but their stains had already etched themselves into her skin. Strands of her hair lay plastered to her skin, as did the thin sleeves around her biceps.
Caught within the undertow of sorrow, she didn’t register the rain had stopped washing over her. A warm scent of sun and spice settled around her, drawing her from the bottomless well of despair. She wedged her arms beneath her and pressed off the floor, only to have a strong hand capture her shoulder and guide her upright. She lifted her heavy head, the shear strength having abandoned her body.
