Dark Alpha's Fury, page 2
When Erith came to her and offered her a position with the Reapers, Aisling had almost declined. She knew it meant carrying around pain that might never dissipate. The only way to truly be rid of it was death. After everything she had suffered, that was what Aisling thought she wanted: the sweet oblivion of nothingness. The dark abyss.
To this day, she wasn’t sure what it was that Erith had said to make her change her mind. The agreement had been out of Aisling’s mouth before she even realized it. She could’ve taken it back, but she didn’t. Then, Erith had held out her hand. As soon as Aisling took it, Death had given her just a few tiny drops of her essence. Not only did Aisling return to the land of the living but she also had more power and magic than before.
She had taken her place with the other Reapers and soon came to understand that it was what she had been meant to do. She’d found her place among them despite the endless suffering of the past she still carried with her. She forgot about it some days. But the nightmares always returned when she slept. Always
This time, it wasn’t just the past that had filtered through her mind. It was also Xaneth.
Aisling fingered one of her long plaits. She’d started wearing her hair like this after becoming a Reaper. Sometimes, she wore the braids down. Other times, she tied them back. And still others she gathered them atop her head.
Despite the familiarity of her hair, something had changed on Skye. She was changed.
She might not be able to put her finger on what it was specifically, but she felt it, nonetheless. She had died on the Isle of Skye. There was no mistaking that feeling. She had already felt it once in that instant before Erith held her soul and made her offer.
What had brought Aisling back? It hadn’t been Death. Erith only held their soul that one time. If a Reaper died a second time, they were…gone. So, what had happened? Had it been Xaneth? She had been told that he was the one who’d taken her from the battlefield. But…if it had been him, wouldn’t he have waited around? Wouldn’t he have spoken to her?
Those were the questions she had asked herself for the past three days without any answers. She was beginning to fear she would never get them. Maybe she wouldn’t like what she learned if she did. At least, that was the argument she had with herself. However, she knew it for the lie it was.
Aisling tugged off the band holding the end of one braid and used her fingers to release the plait. Once the hair was free, she looked at it. With a sigh, she began freeing the others. Once they were all unbound, she ran her fingers through her hair. It had gotten so very long. She’d debated cutting it short but then decided to leave it.
Aisling glanced outside at the thick snow. She wanted to walk in the Dragonwood. The forest had called to her since her arrival at Dreagan. After the nightmare, she needed to walk with nature, to feel the hum of magic centered in the woods. With a thought, her sleep clothes vanished, replaced by a thick, black sweater, black corduroy pants, and black snow boots. She added a black coat, scarf, and a fur-lined cap and then teleported to the Dragonwood.
She sucked in a breath as the frigid cold slammed into her. Winter didn’t loosen its hold easily in the Scottish Highlands. Aisling started walking, the snow crunching beneath her feet. She and the Reapers from her group had been on Dreagan with Cael and Erith since the battle on Skye, while the other Reapers continued reaping souls. It would be her unit’s turn next week. Until then, everyone waited for what was next with the Fae Others. Because there would be a next.
Aisling looked at the tall evergreens covered in snow, the precipitation melting in the morning sun. Seeing the land covered in a blanket of white was a beautiful sight. The way the wind whispered silently made it seem like they were on another realm entirely. She stood and drank in the splendor around her. The sixty thousand acres that belonged to the Dragon Kings were some of the prettiest in the country.
She looked through the snow-laden branches to the soft gray sky that matched her mood. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about Xaneth. Where was he? What was he doing? Would he return?
Why had he left her?
He would fight Lena again. Of that, Aisling was certain. Would she be there to see it? To join in? That was the real question. Xaneth had a way of finding the Fae Others like the Reapers couldn’t. For all she knew, he could be confronting them right now.
A sound behind Aisling caught her attention. She knew without looking that it was Eoghan. He was one of the originals from the first group of Reapers, and when Erith added more, Eoghan had taken over her unit as their leader. Eoghan had earned Aisling’s respect early, but it was more than that. The Reapers, Death, and Cael were family. It had taken Aisling a long while to fully acknowledge that, but it was true. She loved them. She would die for them. And she knew they would do the same for her.
“You don’t have to keep checking on me,” she said.
Snow crunched as he shifted his weight. “I disagree. I’m worried about you. We all are.”
She didn’t want to talk about what’d happened or her feelings. Or, worse, Xaneth. “I didn’t think I’d like Scotland this much. There’s too much snow, but it’s pretty.”
“Nothing can beat our Emerald Isle,” he said, a smile in his voice. “But I agree. Scotland comes close.”
“I don’t think Lena will attack in Scotland again. We should stop hiding and seek her out.”
Eoghan made a sound in the back of his throat. “You think we’re hiding?”
“The Dragon Kings have a protective barrier around their land. We’re here. So, yes, I think we’re hiding.”
“We’re waiting.”
Aisling jerked her head to the side when he came up beside her. He had moved so quickly and silently that she hadn’t heard him. She stared into his quicksilver eyes, the color moving like molten metal. “Waiting for what?”
“Several things.” He clasped his hands behind his back and looked into the distance.
“If you have something to say, then say it.”
Eoghan sighed as he faced her. “Lena had the opportunity to strike anyone, including Xaneth. Instead, she aimed for you.”
“Lucky me. So what?”
“You’re too smart to be this obtuse, Aisling.”
She bit back her angry retort. “Obviously, I’m not nearly as intelligent as you think I am.”
“You’re letting your feelings cloud the obvious.”
“Let’s cut through all this shite, shall we? Just tell me.”
“Lena targeted you. You are Xaneth’s weakness. It was a guess on her part, but she got her confirmation when he left with you instead of attacking her.”
Aisling suddenly couldn’t draw breath into her lungs. She shook her head. It couldn’t be true. She’d know if Xaneth…if he what? Felt something for her? “He wouldn’t talk to me. He pushed me away. You’re wrong. All of you.”
“We’re not. And you know it.”
She sucked in a breath, her lungs filling with the cold air, making her cough.
Eoghan briefly closed his eyes. When he looked at her, sadness filled his gaze. “Why did you leave to track Xaneth?”
“A feeling.” Xaneth had asked the same thing. She hadn’t wanted to tell him, and she didn’t want to tell anyone else either. It was too much. It would expose too much of herself.
Eoghan quirked a black brow. “What kind of feeling?”
She wanted to walk away, to ignore him. But if she did, she’d have this conversation again. Maybe with him, or perhaps Cael. Possibly Erith. It was better to get it over with now. She looked away. “I felt certain that someone needed to be with him. That he needed someone to watch his back.”
“And that someone was you?” Eoghan asked softly.
Aisling shrugged nonchalantly when she felt anything but. “I was wrong.”
“You didn’t see Xaneth’s face on Skye when he saw you wounded.” Eoghan paused. “I did.”
Her gaze slid back to her leader. She desperately wanted to know what he had seen but couldn’t get the words out.
Eoghan took a step, moving closer. “Panic. Helplessness. Determination. Then he gathered you into his arms and vanished. I saw your injury, Aisling. I saw you.”
She couldn’t look away as she said, “I was dead.”
“Aye. Yet here you stand before me now.”
“I don’t know what happened. I’ve told everyone that. I woke in the cave alone.”
Eoghan nodded slowly and let out a long breath. “There’s only one conclusion. He brought you back.”
“But…how?”
“How does he find the Fae Others? How does he see through our veils when none but the Reapers and Death can? There is much about Xaneth we don’t know.”
She glanced at her boot in the snow. “He once told me he thought I came to kill him.”
“The way Lena reacts to Xaneth tells me she fears him more than us. Even over Erith. He could be the one to kill Lena, but she’s going to throw everything at him to prevent that from happening.”
“He needs our help.” Then Aisling recalled Eoghan’s words. If she were Xaneth’s weakness, then she couldn’t be near him. Lena could and would use her. “He needs all of you.”
Eoghan was silent for a moment as he stared at her. “He needs you.”
“I don’t want to be used against him again.”
Eoghan’s lips twisted as if her words meant nothing. “You’re too smart for that.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You can’t be asking me what I think you are. Not after informing me that I might be his weakness.”
“There is no might. It wasn’t a guess. You’re exactly that,” Eoghan said, his eyes glittering shrewdly.
She recognized that sly look. Aisling felt the familiar anticipation of a mission. “I’m all ears.”
“Xaneth needs to be warned about what’s likely waiting when he finds Lena. It would also be nice if he knew we are here to help. You’re the only one who has been able to find him. We want you to do it again. After you warn him, convince him to work with us.”
Blood drummed in Aisling’s ears. Eoghan wanted her to leave Dreagan to look for Xaneth again. She had been successful at first, but then Xaneth had gone out of his way to ensure she couldn’t find him. Yet she wanted to know why he had left her. There was a chance she could find him again, deliver the news, and get far from him before the next battle.
And when she next met Lena, Aisling would be prepared for anything the Others’ leader did.
“What makes you think I can locate him this time? He made his wishes known.”
“He saved you,” Eoghan said, a confident smile on his lips.
Aisling wanted to see Xaneth again. If he had brought her back, she wanted to know how he had done it. And why. Besides, she needed to thank him.
“Do I take that look to mean you’ll do it?” Eoghan asked.
Aisling lifted her chin. “Aye.”
Chapter Three
Don’t look.
No matter how many times Xaneth told himself that, he couldn’t stop scanning every face in Waterford for the one who haunted his thoughts. If Aisling came looking for him again. He didn’t expect her to. The safest place for her was far, far from him.
Yet he longed to see her, to look into her crimson eyes. It was such a sharp need. A yearning that grew with every second until he could think of little else.
“Fek,” Xaneth grumbled.
What about the Reaper kept her in his thoughts? Her beauty was second to none, but it was more than that. She had battle skills that mesmerized him, fortitude that amazed him, and cunning that continually surprised him. She willingly sought him out, tracking him when she shouldn’t have been able to. So much about Aisling captured him, ensnared him, that he could scarcely name them.
Xaneth shook his head to dislodge his thoughts about her. When Usaeil began slaughtering their family, any notions of a future had evaporated. It was about survival, day to day, hour by hour. His days were numbered, and he’d known it. He used each one to keep himself alive.
Until Usaeil caught him.
He was now free of his aunt, but his days were still finite. Each time he sought out and ended evil, he felt more of himself slip away. How much longer would it be until he lost himself entirely? What would he become then? And who would end his life?
Xaneth parted his lips, about to call for Erith. He knew the goddess would come. He could ask her to make sure it wasn’t Aisling who reaped his soul. If Erith gave her word, she would keep it. Yet if she came, she would want to talk. And Xaneth had nothing to say to her—nothing she would want to hear, anyway. Just as he had nothing to say to Aisling.
Liar.
With Aisling, he felt…everything.
Every ache, every longing, every impossible desire. Things that were out of reach for him. They always had been, but now more so than before. And nothing would change that.
Xaneth remained near a building, veiled in the shadows cast by the sun, watching the passersby. Dialects from all over the world could be heard. He saw plenty of Fae, too. Dark and Light mingled freely with the mortals. Humans walked among the Fae without any knowledge of their existence.
If a Fae didn’t use magic to tamp down their appeal, humans were inexplicably drawn to them. Mortals couldn’t stay away from Fae, and while the Light took advantage of that, no one did it like the Dark. Because the Dark fed off the humans’ souls until nothing remained but a shriveled corpse. The mortals had no idea what was happening to them because all they felt was bliss. Being consumed by pleasure wasn’t a bad way to go if Xaneth were honest. If he had to choose, that was how it would be. It was better than pain.
He took a deep breath, searching for evil. It was everywhere, just like good, but the kind of malevolence he searched for was more pervasive. He knew Lena’s smell and that of the Fae Others, and it wasn’t in Waterford.
Xaneth moved farther into the shadows where he felt most at home. He closed his eyes and tried to find the scent. He caught the barest of smells and followed it. When he opened his eyes, he was in another city. Xaneth remained veiled so he could get his bearings. He scanned the area around him. When he saw nothing, he teleported down the street. That was when he saw the welcome sign to Kilbaha. He had only been to the small fishing community on the western tip of the peninsula once before. The quaint village was lush and beautiful—perfect for hiding.
Xaneth glanced at the sky, a bright blue dotted with clouds. He didn’t want to walk the streets now, even if he was veiled. He’d wait until night fell where he felt more at home in the darkness. He inwardly snorted. He’d always loved the dark, even as a child. Maybe he had somehow known what would become of him. Because wasn’t it only monsters that lurked in the darkest of nights?
He looked at his hands. They appeared normal. They felt normal. And yet he knew they weren’t. They had killed, ripped others apart.
And held Aisling.
Xaneth spun on his heel and stalked away to find somewhere better to hide until the sun went down. Soon, he found himself far from the village. When he spotted the Bridges of Ross, he quickened his footsteps, something like excitement stirring in his chest. The last time he had been here was with his family. It was one of the last memories he had of them before they were killed. They’d all had a glorious day.
He paused and took in the natural sea arch of the Loop Head Peninsula, the brisk wind biting into his exposed skin through his shirt. There had been three bridges at one time, but two had fallen into the sea. The Loop Head Lighthouse wasn’t far away. There was also the Kilkee Cliff Walk that Xaneth had taken with his younger sister, who had talked nonstop the entire time about everything. He’d ignored her, angry that he’d had to bring her with him. Now, all he wanted was that day back so he could give her the attention she deserved. But that could never be.
Xaneth returned his attention to the bridge. It was a breathtaking spectacle. He walked partway over the natural structure and looked down to see the waves crashing against the rocks sculpted by the ocean, white crests smashing again and again. His gaze moved to the deep blue water beneath him that eventually rolled to shore.
He continued across the bridge until he was on the other side. There, he admired the vast Atlantic Ocean before him. This was a good place to remain until dark, but he would need to stay out of sight since tourists were around, and he wanted to lower his veil.
Xaneth teleported to the beach and found a cave with a decent entrance and a good-sized cavern beyond it. He settled on a rock outside the cave and considered that in the short time he had been here, he hadn’t come across any Fae. That didn’t mean they weren’t around. The Fae called all of Ireland home. There were more Fae per capita in Ireland than anywhere else on the realm. Honestly, given that, it was surprising there weren’t more Halflings—though there were considerably more than anyone realized.
Lena could be in Kilbaha by herself. She had enough power now that she didn’t need anyone to guard her, but he suspected that she still had a contingent of soldiers around her, Fae she had shared a tiny bit of her magic with, much like Erith did with the Reapers. Lena was the kind who needed to lord her position over others. And while the stench of the Fae Others had brought Xaneth here, the smell wasn’t any stronger than it had been in Waterford. Which gave him pause.
There was no way Lena could know he was tracking her, but on the off chance she did, and this was a trap, he needed to prepare. Xaneth wasn’t too worried about Lena tricking him since all he cared about was finding her. It didn’t matter where they battled, only that it would happen. And the sooner the better.
Xaneth.
He jerked at the sound of Erith’s voice in his head. A part of him wanted to go to her as if he answered to the goddess. But he remained where he was…with some difficulty. At one time, she had called for him often, and it had taken everything he had to squash whatever urged him to go to her. Eventually, she called to him less and less. Then, she stopped altogether.
