CHAPTER FOUR
Aisling couldn’t remember being so exasperated and incensed. She paced the shoreline of Kilbaha Bay, going over her all too brief and ridiculous chat with Xaneth.
“Why did I even think he’d talk to me? Why did I believe that him saving me meant he, I don’t know…maybe cared?” She rolled her eyes as anger whipped through her. “He was surprised to see me, but that quickly turned to annoyance.”
That was what got her. She’d intended to stay quiet until he spoke, but when she saw his irritation, she’d lost it. Aisling knew she should’ve waited until he talked. She might think she could help him, but that didn’t do any good when he kept refusing.
“If the imbecile wants to die, then let him,” she stated.
Aisling stopped pacing and closed her eyes with a sigh. She wouldn’t let that happen. No matter how furious she became. Xaneth had endured unspeakable horrors at Usaeil’s hands, and whatever drove him now was likely a consequence of that. He battled the Fae Others better than even the Reapers. Erith had no intention of stopping him. Everyone just wanted to help him defeat their foe.
The difference was, they had been in his shoes and had found their spot in the family. Xaneth not only didn’t want his place with a family, but he also didn’t want anyone around. And, honestly, she couldn’t blame him.
She sank onto a boulder and listened to the waves rolling over the rocks and sand. Her head tilted back until she looked at the stars. He’d seemed awestruck by them. For just a moment, he had lowered his shields. That was all it had taken for her to see him: the lad who’d watched his family be massacred, the Fae who hid everything he was, the rebel who had made a name for himself in both the Light and Dark worlds. The man who had been tortured but had broken free.
In that instant, her broken, battered soul had recognized one of its own.
Aisling leaned back on her hands and regarded the night sky. But it wasn’t the stars she saw. It was Xaneth. Tall and broad-shouldered, he carried himself as if ready to unleash Hell on anyone who deserved it. He’d had his large hands clenched, the muscles in his forearms shifting beneath his skin below the shirt sleeves he’d shoved to his elbows.
He had a ruthless air about him. One that only made him more handsome and appealing. From his chiseled jawline to his full lips to his pale silver eyes, he haunted her day and night. His midnight hair was cut short now, the top long enough to show the soft waves. It gave his gorgeous face a lethal look that made her blood quicken.
She knew every inch of his face, having put it to memory when they first met. She knew the vein in his left temple that throbbed when he was angry. The small scar near his lip. Just as she knew how his body moved during battle. How he made each movement look like a dance.
If only she knew the feel of his body against hers. She had been unconscious when he took her from the battlefield on the Isle of Skye. She had no idea what it felt like to be in his arms. But she had dreamed of it.
She had imagined and fantasized about it.
Every other Reaper had found someone. Even Death had found her soulmate in Cael. Not Aisling. Not that she deserved it. But she could let her fantasies run wild, which was exactly what she had done with Xaneth.
It was wrong. She knew that. It allowed her to believe that something had developed between them when it hadn’t. Someone as damaged as she couldn’t be put back together to find her person. She had accepted that. She’d been fine with it.
Then she met Xaneth. And everything changed. She’d tried to forget him, attempted to ignore him, but it was all in vain. Everything she touched went to shite. The only thing she was good at was being a Reaper, and even that was questionable since she’d left her family to look for a royal Fae who wanted nothing to do with her.
Which meant that Aisling had a choice. She could continue tracking Xaneth to see where he went. If he found Lena, she would be able to call to the Reapers so they could attack. Or…she could find him, give him the message like Eoghan had asked, and return to Dreagan.
Aisling had made a detrimental choice long ago that had defined her life. This was another one. She knew it, even if she tried to tell herself otherwise. Despite the fact that Xaneth had hurt her with his words—or lack thereof—she couldn’t leave. At the very least, she had to deliver her message. She should’ve done it first thing when he turned to find her. Now, she had to find him again. Then, she’d keep far enough away from Xaneth that he wouldn’t know she was there.
Lena thought Aisling was Xaneth’s weakness. In reality, he was hers. But Lena didn’t perceive Aisling as a threat. Regardless, she would make sure Lena couldn’t use her against anyone. Aisling wouldn’t be the reason the Fae Others claimed victory.
Aisling licked her lips and rubbed her palms on her thighs as she closed her eyes. She thought about Xaneth, focusing all her concentration on him. It wasn’t an easy process. It was exhaustive. And painful. Sometimes, it worked. Other times, it didn’t. She had looked three places before she found Xaneth in Kilbaha. She hadn’t sought him out so many times in one night before, and it was taking a toll. Her head throbbed behind her eyes, but she needed to know if he was still in the village.
She gave up when the pain became too agonizing. Aisling leaned forward and put the heels of her hands against her eyes. The pounding intensified. She had wasted herself on nothing because she couldn’t pinpoint Xaneth. That meant she would have to physically look for him instead—if he was even still in Kilbaha.
Aisling dropped her hands and lifted her head. Then, she cracked open her eyes and winced. She needed a few minutes to heal, but time wasn’t something she had. Aisling pushed to her feet and turned toward the village. She scanned the distant rooftops until she found one she liked. She veiled herself and teleported there. She had to lean against the chimney as her knees threatened to buckle from the pain that suddenly exploded in her head.
She took in the area, looking for any signs of Xaneth. He liked to hide. That meant she needed to search the shadows. She gripped the side of the chimney tighter, her fingers digging into the brick as she fought a wave of nausea. She had experienced pain before, but nothing like this. She slid down the chimney and leaned her back against it.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” asked a deep voice to her left.
Aisling turned her head and looked up at the Dark Fae, who smirked down at her. How had he seen through her veil? That was when she realized she must have dropped it. The Dark had beady, red eyes in a large head. He looked to have more muscle than brains, but at the moment, she wasn’t at the top of her game—something she wasn’t used to. Maybe she could make him go away. “I want some time alone.”
“On a roof?” He laughed, the sound grating. “If you’re looking for company, sweetheart, I’m your man.”
“No, thanks.”
He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet. “I wasn’t asking.”
Aisling glared at him as he tightened his fingers in her tresses, pulling tighter. “You’re messing with the wrong Fae.”
“There’s a bounty or your pretty head. I am to collect it.”
Aisling couldn’t have heard him right. Bounty? By who? Then it dawned on her. Lena, of course. Aisling shoved her hand toward the Dark, her magic hitting him hard enough that the air rushed from his lungs.