Freed (Imprisoned by the Fae 3)

I… I couldn’t stop myself. The idea that Dusk could actually kill Rys in front of me is such a scary idea that I react without thinking.

A heartbeat. Seriously. One rapid, pulsing heartbeat. That’s all it takes. Dusk swivels his head, zeroing in on the exact spot where I’m still crouched down. Now that he knows I’m hiding, he blinks, then stares, and his lips curve just enough that I want to cry.

But, at the same time as he finally notices me, Rys takes advantage of his tiniest distraction.

It all happens so fast after that. The whole time he was squaring off against Dusk, he was still holding onto his dagger, though he kept it concealed under his cloak. Not anymore. He does something to it and, suddenly, the crystal dagger shimmers and transforms. A second later, Rys is holding one of the diamond-edged swords that all of the soldiers and guards in the Seelie Court carry.

For the first time since I’ve known him, I finally understand who Rys truly is.

The soldier.

The guard.

The killer.

And my hero.

The fae are fast. How often did I see one of them move and marvel at how quickly they can go? But, as Rys swings his sword, aiming right for Dusk’s neck, I realize that, even then, they were holding back. He’s a bronzed blur, leaping up through the shadow, his sword slashing so violently quick that it’s still whistling even after Dusk’s head hits the icy ground with a sickening thud.

And I mean sickening. My stomach rebels, picking up on what I saw before my brain can process it. I close my eyes and, only when I’m surrounded by complete darkness, I realize that Dusk might’ve screamed when I set him on fire, but he died without a sound.

Doesn’t mean it’s quiet, though. Somewhere off to my left, I hear gagging followed by someone throwing up loudly.

It takes me a moment before I can open my eyes again without the threat of puking myself. I swallow a couple of times, making sure my stomach is holding its own, before quirking one eye open, then the next.

Rys is standing over the two halves of Dusk’s body, busying himself with cleaning the silver ichor off of his blade. When he sees that I’m looking up at him, he gives me a solemn nod, then goes back to what he’s doing.

Okay, then.

I figured the puker would be Riley and I’m right. She’s o

n her hands and knees, leaning up against Nine as he rubs her back soothingly.

“Riley… uh, you okay?”

She doesn’t answer me, but from where I am, I can kind of see the way her gloved hand lifts high, showing me one finger. It’s either a thumb’s up or she’s giving me her middle finger.

Yeah. That doesn’t really help.

“She’ll be just fine,” Nine assures me, sounding completely unaffected that Rys just decapitated Dusk like that. Come to think of it, why aren’t I freaking out as much as I could be? Then again, after you set a guy on fire, chopping his head off as quickly as Rys did is probably a kindness… and I’ve been in Faerie way too long. “Riley can be a little squeamish. I didn’t get to warn her in time.”

“I had to take my shot. I couldn’t risk Dusk going after Elle.”

“I understand. But this? This is exactly why Oberon had to take Melisandre’s head. As good as she is with a sword, my Shadow’s not a killer.”

“No. She’s not.” Riley’s voice is shaky. “I want to get up now. Nine. Can you—”

“Of course.”

After patting her back one last time, he rises gracefully from his crouch beside her. Throwing his long, shadowy duster back, Nine bows over Dusk’s body. I can’t see what he’s doing—and, hell, maybe I shouldn’t still be watching—but when he straightens again, the body is gone. His head, too.

The shadows have swallowed him whole.

I know without understanding how that Nine didn’t just cover him up. It’s almost as if he gave Dusk’s remains to the shadows and, yeah. That’s a lovely thought.

I kind of wished I hadn’t had it.

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