Hunted by a Night Fae

Chapter 47

My Craft sizzled through my body, calling out to Ronan's rampant flames. From beneath the table where I had taken cover, I saw fae attacking Ronan. 

They resembled rabid monsters more than the fae that had surrounded me only a short while ago, dancing and frolicking merrily.  They were unrecognizable now.

Snarls and hisses and screams battered against my ears, and a good part of me wanted to stay there, curled up into a little ball, holding myself safe and sound behind the barrier of the table. To do exactly as Ronan wanted. I lowered my hands from my face, and peeked out from a corner of the table cloth, a river of sweet-smelling wine dripping down off it to the floor.

Ronan had two large flames at either side of him, his movements reminding me of a fire god as he struck down faerie after faerie. His face was twisted into a wide maniacal smile, his eyes lit with fervor. He was enjoying this. Blood and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air and I had to look away before I was sick.

I had always known what he was, but seeing it again—now that I had spent so much time with him, made me recoil. I couldn't help the tears that sprung to my eyes. But I wiped them away.

This is good, I tried to tell myself. Seeing Ronan for the monster he is will make what I must do that much easier. 

I peeked out from the tablecloth again, this time not looking at Ronan. I surveyed the disorienting chaos, looking for the bottom of the Queen's dais. When I found it I saw the Queen still had not moved from where she had been before, standing there like a ghostly specter. 

With all the guests focused on Ronan, there was a clear path between me and the dais. I searched its base, looking for something that could be the portal. My blood buzzed as adrenaline pumped through me, making my hands shake.

Then I saw it. It was small, easy to miss. A small flaw in the sleek ebony wood that resembled a tiny door.

As soon as I saw it, it disappeared. The twinkling lights in the room flickered out one by one. The shadows grew thicker, swimming through the air and unfurling in blackened wisps of smoke. In moments, the entire room had been swallowed up by a black hole.

"Who dares intrude upon my husband's mourning party," boomed a heavy, suffocating voice. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw the Queen walking off the dais, the thick shadows leeching themselves from her body and swarming through the room in an echo of the Queen's fury. Her pale eyes, still empty, focused on Ronan.

"You," she snarled. "You are the one who stole him from me. Your very birth is a smear on our Courts." The Queen's voice was filled with fury, and I wondered how much Ankou was controlling her. Her eyes flickered with life, but the hatred didn't disappear as she bore down on Ronan.

I turned to him one last time. Watching his face as he took in his powerful opponent. He grinned, his blades flaring with a scorching burst of flame. My Craft thrashed inside me, yearning to go to his, and fill the room with ravenous flames like before when fighting the sluagh. The thought of doing so terrified me, because I could already feel the pleasant rush that would sweep through my body if I gave in.

I inhaled deeply, turning from the warring fae. This was not my battle, not my fight. I had no business caring about who was involved.

And now with the Queen focused on Ronan, there was no one next to the dais. Now was my chance.

I jolted out from my hiding spot, sticking to the shadows. I ignored the flickering lick of Ronan's flames reaching to me from across the ballroom. I pushed the urge down hard, wrapping up my Craft inside me, even as I felt it claw at me, begging to come out. It was dark, the only light coming from the fire and Queen Kiera's glowing eyes.