Beauty (A Faery Story 3)

“We must tell Gillian. And I have to take the brownies with me.”

Niall’s voice lowered to a deep growl. “Not possible, Your Highness. I am taking you to Sir Giles where he will make arrangements to see us safely to Aoibhneas. This must be done with the greatest of secrecy. Time is of the essence. And under no circumstances are we to tell Princess Gillian of our plans.”

Not tell Gilly? Bron tried to pull away. “I can’t leave without my sister.”

“She is not your sister, and as far as your father and I can tell, she has a completely different agenda than our own.”

“She’s saved me time and time again. She raised me. She trained me.”

“Because she always intended to take you to the Unseelie plane. This is not her fight. You’re a bargaining chip for Gillian McIver. I would have completely left Gillian out of the planning if I could have. As it stands, she only knows I’m trying to help. We’re going to keep it that way. You cannot leave the plane. There must be a Finn in Tir na nÓg or all is lost.”

There was a shuffling upstairs, and she heard a male voice call out. “Guards? Where is the witch?”

Niall’s jaw firmed, and he took her elbow. “Just follow my lead, Your Highness. I will protect and defend you with my life. This I vow. I will see you on your rightful throne and not that of the Unseelie.”

He began up the stairs, stepping around the bodies of the guards he’d killed. Bron’s mind was racing. What was going on? What did he mean about Gillian? Gillian had been trying for years to take Bron to the Unseelie plane, but that made sense. It was her home plane. Where else would Gillian go?

She followed Niall into the main hall, her eyes on her potential ally. Niall was a handsome young man roughly her age. She tried to remember him. His father had been kind enough, but all she could remember of the boy was a shy lad who brushed her pony’s coat and gave her carrots to feed it. Could she believe him? Did she have a choice?

“Hurry along now.” Micha stood frowning. There was a circular disc around his neck, tied with rough twine. It didn’t fit with Micha’s normal elegant dress. The mayor pressed a second one into Niall’s hand. “Wear this. It’s a ward to protect you from the bitch’s magic. And hopefully the potion has started to work.”

“Potion?” Niall asked. His eyes took in the room. Three guards stood at attention, Micha’s closest men. The door to the grounds stood open, and the sounds of workers shuffling as they built the great bonfire wafted in. Already Bron could smell the scent of the oil they doused the wood in.

Micha shrugged. “I had one of my house women concoct a dampening potion. It should keep her calm and compliant. I slipped it into her water this morning. She should be a mess by now. It’s actually an aphrodisiac, but it has the added benefit of making the user very submissive. Did you think I’d give you your last words? Not a chance. I have too much at stake. But you shouldn’t be able to talk at this point.”

Micha grabbed a vial off his desk. “Hold her.”

Niall stopped, obviously not sure what to do. Poor Niall. None of this had gone how he’d planned. She was sure he’d hoped to slip her out of the province with no one the wiser. Now he had to get her away from the guard and deal with a drugged princess. He was forced to watch as one of Micha’s personal guards held her and forced her head back.

The substance was vile, and she recognized the bitter taste. There had only been a hint of it in the water. This was undiluted. It raked through her system, burning as it made its way down her gut. The effect was almost instantaneous. A horrible ache, so much worse than before, grabbed her.

She needed. She needed them.

“Shim. Lach.” She could feel her head lolling back.

“That’s better.” Micha’s muddy eyes looked down at her. “See, my dear, now you’re compliant, more like the lady you should have been.”

“Hurts.” She seemed to only be able to speak single words now. “Shim. Lach.”

He shook his head. “Are they your lovers, dear? I should have known you would be a whore, too. I should have taken you and left it at that. You ungrateful wretch. You don’t deserve to be my wife. Go and see if the fire is hot yet and bring the magistrate. Our witch has confessed.”

She felt her body falling and the cold stone floor against her skin. Her head ached, a sharp pain, but it was nothing compared to the fires that licked at her body. Fire. Fire should be sweet, but now it was only pain. Shim. Shim was fire. Like a shimmer. Lach was cool like a lake. Yes, that was where she’d gotten their names. One mystery solved. Would she see them soon?

“Your Highness, I am outnumbered.” Niall lifted her off the floor where they had simply tossed her like she was a piece of garbage. Niall’s words were whispered against her ear, so small she could barely make them out.

She wanted to kiss him. She wanted his lips on hers, his cock sliding deep. That would quench the fire. Her eyes would close, and she could pretend he was Lach or Shim.

Goddess, it was cruel to die like this. To know this ache and know what it meant. She would die a virgin, fire torching her from the inside and the outside.

“Your Highness, you must tell me where the knife is.”

His voice was so urgent. He was so close, his skin hidden under layers of clothes. Shim. She’d seen him without his clothes. And Lach. So beautiful. She needed flesh against hers. It was all she wanted now. Shim was close. She could see him. He was holding her.

“Shim. Kiss me.”

“Damn it, Bronwyn.” There was a shuffling as he looked down at her. His eyes shifted to dark blue. There he was. But his words made little sense. “I need to know where the knife is. It’s the only proof. I can’t save you, but I have a job to do. If I can’t save you, I have to find someone else. That knife is proof. Please. You owe the kingdom.”

Kingdom? What kingdom? Why did he care about the kingdom? She hurt. She ached. She couldn’t even breathe. “Kiss me.” Why wouldn’t he kiss her? Lach liked to play vampire games, but Shim was always so quick with kisses. She needed both. Where was Lachlan?