“The Fomorians attacked my village that night, killing almost every fae inside of it, including my mother.” He stopped short, catching his breath, and Reyna squeezed his hand. He collected himself and continued. “There were few of us left, but we lived peacefully—if not poorly—in Comharra for ten good years. Until my father sent his warriors to collect me.”
“Let me guess. He did not give you much of a choice.”
“It was no choice at all. He threatened to kill every living fae of Comharra if I did not go to the Shadow Court and become his legitimized son.” He laughed bitterly. “It worked. I did it. And for years after that, he held their lives over my head, always knowing that I would do whatever he bid as long as he had that.”
Reyna pushed up from the bed and leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his as emotion shook his voice. Lorcan had never spoken to anyone about this, not fully. He’d never wanted to, nor had he ever known someone who would understand. The wounds were fresh and raw, even though it had been years since that day he’d stumbled into Comharra and fallen to his knees in anguish.
The day he’d found the village empty, barren, and full of blood. The day he’d found out his father had killed almost everyone he loved. Cadman, Aoiffe, and all the rest.
“Eventually, my father realized I was not the loyal servant he hoped I was. He discovered I’d come to care for Thane, the prince I was meant to kill one day.”
Reyna blinked in shock. “You were meant to kill Thane?”
Lorcan nodded. “After he became the king and before he sired an heir. It would have created a vacuum of power, throwing the Air Court into chaos. Chaos is exactly what my father wants from his enemies.
“After spending several years by Thane’s side, I decided that I wouldn’t do it. That I would find a way out of it. I don’t know how my father found out, but he did. Likely through the mark he gave me to make me his.” He closed his eyes. “So, he murdered every fae inside of Comharra.”
“Oh, Lorcan,” she said softly.
He brought her hand to his chest and pressed it firmly against his skin. “I am so sorry for what I have done to you, Reyna. I should have known he never had Thane. Now, you’re stuck with him, same as me. And that is not a fate I would wish on anyone. Especially not you.”
A low growl rumbled in her throat, and she tightened her grip around his fingers. “He needs to be stopped. We cannot let him get away with this.”
Lorcan could not help but smile, even if her rage was nothing more than folly. There was no way to stop the High King of the Shadow Court. He had them both wrapped around his pinky finger, Lorcan with the mark and Reyna with her vow. “You must be feeling better. It’s been hours since you had that murderous glint in your eye.”
“Better enough that I could rip off his smushed little head.”
He chuckled. “He does have a particularly smushed head, doesn’t he?”
“So smushed,” she replied. “Lucky for you, you only inherited his hair and his eyes.”
His brows winged upward. “Was that a compliment?”
“Hmph,” she said. “Maybe I like smushed faces.”
He slid his hand up her arm to her neck, and then to her cheek. She stiffened beneath his touch, but she didn’t pull away.
“Tell me you hate me then. If that’s your truth, then speak it aloud.”
“I want to hate you,” she whispered back. “You betrayed me. Terribly.”
“I did. And I deserve your wrath.”
“Stop that,” she hissed.
“Stop what?” His voice dipped low as her lips drew agonizingly close to his. He could smell the alchemist’s medicine on her breath, the tangy scent of herbs and rowan berries.
“Apologizing.” She swallowed hard, the skin at her neck trembling. “It makes me want to forget everything you did.”
“Then, I’m sorry,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He slid his nose across the soft skin of her cheek, and then murmured into her ear. “I am sorry, Reyna Darragh.”
With a gasp, she slid her fingers into his hair and pulled his mouth toward hers. Her soft lips collided into his, warm and sweet, but as ferocious as every single thing that made her who she was. Distantly, he was aware that his mark had begun to ache. But for once, it was nothing more than a dull, pesky fly.
Now that she was in his arms once again, he would never again let anyone—or anything—take her away from him.
22
Reyna
Reyna wound her fingers through Lorcan’s hair and relished in the feel of him. She opened her mouth to his, kissing him with the ferocity of a thousand roaring lions. Everything within her squeezed tight. Her core ached. Her heart felt close to bursting.
She felt whole again, as if her world had finally right itself after so much time spent askew. Murmuring, she slid her hands over his smooth, rippling shoulders and down the front of his bare chest. She had no idea what had happened to his tunic, but she was glad for whatever it was. He was the most gorgeous male she had ever laid eyes on, particularly when he wasn’t clothed.
“Reyna,” he murmured against her mouth. She gasped at the sound of her name on his breath. There was always something in the way he said it that made her insides quiver in anticipation.
Suddenly, he pulled back and gazed into her eyes. “Tell me you don’t hate me. Tell me this is what you want.”
She curled her lips into a demure smile. “What is what I want?”
A low growl rumbled in his throat. “Shall I show you?”
“Please do,” she whispered, cheeks flaming.
With a devilish smile, Lorcan leaned down and dragged his tongue across her ear. White hot desire exploded inside her core. Moaning, she sagged against the pillows, digging her fingers into his skin.
He pulled back and braced his hands on either side of her head. “I need to hear it.”
“Lorcan…” He pressed a finger to her lips, his eyes flashing.
“I need to hear it from you, Reyna,” he said softly. “I need to know you aren’t bored or confused or maybe just angry at my father. Do you hate me, Reyna Darragh?”
Her breath caught as she stared up at him. Those churning eyes, that hair that looked like the darkest part of the night. The way he gazed at her at times, as if he could see the truth of her, the best and worst parts all at once. He was as steady as a rock on a wave-tossed sea, and the strength of him could put most fae to shame.
Yes, he had betrayed her. It had been a terrible thing for him to do. But Reyna had done many terrible things, too, and Lorcan had forgiven every one. When she looked into his eyes, she did not see only darkness. She saw both shadow and light.
“I don’t hate you, Lorcan Rothach,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his.
He let out a victorious growl. Bracing himself on top of her body, he kissed her with an animalistic need, only for a sharp pain to rip through her gut. She whimpered, squeezing her eyes tight against the torment roiling through her.
His weight vanished in an instant, his voice full of concern. “What’s wrong, Reyna? Did I hurt you?”