The dark-haired warrior set Janet to her feet, but he didn’t release her. Ropes appeared from nowhere and he waved his fingers. She yelped as her hands were magically bound behind her back. She fought the urge to pull away.
He winked, but said nothing.
“King Fillan approaches!” someone yelled.
Silence fell.
The cruel man whom Xander had called
Father
stood by her husband as he writhed in the netting. No one had taken him out of the prison or hauled him to his feet.
He was dark where Xander was light, and if rage and fury hadn’t flowed off him in waves, she would have considered him handsome. She could see her husband in his face, though their coloring was opposite.
Janet swallowed a whimper and couldn’t look away from the man she loved.
How could Xander’s father condone what they were doing to him?
He’d called him
traitor
.
He renounced him…
A horn sounded and she heard the rush of marching boots and clinking metal. She spotted a flag bearer first, then a Fae Warrior with a large curved horn in his hands marching next to him.
Janet shuddered as the six armored warriors parted, standing at attention; fear overwhelmed her as she saw the king.
His hair was fair, but his demeanor was not. His jewel-encrusted crown sat high on his head. His white-blond locks caressed the shoulders of his royal purple robe, and the smile on his face chilled her blood. She couldn’t see his eyes, but her gut told her they were violet, like Alana’s and Xander’s. But where the two Fae she loved held warmth in their gazes, King Fillan would not.
Janet just knew it. Felt it. Feared him above all others.
Xander’s father came forward and bowed deeply. “Your Majesty, I’ve found the traitor.”
She cried out when they were separated. Janet couldn’t help it. As soon as the king had said his piece—ordered death for them both without so much as a glance at her—he’d disappeared from the bailey with his entourage.
The Fae Warriors surrounding Xander started to beat him. The Captain watched as if detached, his glowing sword still in hand, his gold armor catching the firelight of many torches.
Janet frowned. Her husband’s father was evil.
Then they took Xander out of her line of sight, but she
heard
what they were doing to him. Her scream had drawn little notice from the numerous winged Fae in the bailey. They’d started cheering after the king had departed. Urging the cruelty on as her husband was abused.
What about his magic?
From the moment he’d touched the Faery Stones it was obvious he couldn’t defend himself, but she’d seen Xander throw balls of blue light.
Why couldn’t he save himself now?
“Ah, lass, looks like we’re alone now,” the dark-haired warrior drawled.
Panic was a living thing as rough hands pushed her to her knees. Her throat closed and she swallowed. She kept her eyes downcast and her jaw locked. Her gut churned and she bit her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood.
The ropes binding her hands behind her back were tight, pain shot up into her shoulders with even the slightest shift.
Boots came into view.
She fought tremors. Screamed at herself to stay still. Janet tried to square her shoulders, but it just hurt more. She froze in place.
“Aren’t you a bonnie lass—for a human.” The voice was deep, mocking. His accent was refined in a way she’d not noticed at the Faery Stones. Each word was clear, like he thought he was better than her and wanted her to know it.
Calloused fingers yanked her face up.
She fought a whimper and met pale blue eyes. They were more crystal clear than blue, like tinted ice. His warrior braid fell to his waist in a thick plait and he was broad-shouldered. Sinfully handsome, but his expression was as frigid as the color of his eyes.
“I’ve never rutted a human.”
Do. Not. React.
Janet resisted the urge to jerk away. She needed him to think she was indifferent about the whole thing.
To not
show
her fear.
Thick fingers caressed her hair and tucked loose strands behind her ear. The touch was nothing like when her husband did it.
Stay strong.
“Aye, if yer goin’ ta do it, it migh’ as well be now. She won’t be much use for verra long,” the redheaded warrior said, striding over with his sword still in hand.
“Why do you say that?” The Fae paused, his hands still in her hair. He flexed iridescent wings.
“Can ye no’ sense it? They’ve bonded.”
“Nonsense,” Ice Blue Eyes spat, frowning.
“I can see his magic all over her, even though we took the traitor’s powers. Tis not a spell. A true mating bond. The captain saw it, too.” The redheaded warrior tossed his braid over his shoulder.
Janet shivered.
“With a human?” The question was part fascination, part revulsion.
“Evidently not
all
human, I wouldna think.” Red winked, and Janet tried not to glare.
She ordered herself to maintain an apathetic expression.
“Now, I want her even more.”
“As I said, do it now. When he’s dead, she’ll die, too. From the sounds of things,” he thumbed in the direction of Xander’s latest scream, “shouldna be long now.”
“Nay.” The whisper fell from her lips unwanted.
Both of her captors froze.
“You care for the traitor, little lass?” There was amusement in Ice Blue Eye’s voice. He caressed her cheeks.
Janet’s skin crawled and she fought tears.
“Aye, think she does,” Red said.
“Then I shall take her where the traitor can see. Watch her be defiled before he dies.”
Her heart stuttered. She bit back a gasp.
Red slapped Ice Blue Eyes between his wings and chuckled. “Defiled? Aren’ ye a better lover than tha’, Mikhias? Make her scream your name. If yer no’ up to the task, I can show ye how it’s done.”
Tremors chased each other down her spine and it took all Janet was made of to sit still and listen to the two Fae Warriors banter back and forth about raping her.
If she and Xander survived this by some miracle—or act of magic—her husband would never forgive himself if they raped her, let alone where he could see the act. Janet was glad she’d pushed the bond away. At least he wouldn’t have to
feel
it.
She’d take whatever they were going to do to her without a word said, and die with honor. Janet locked her fears away and grunted when Ice Blue Eyes tugged her to her feet.
Red fell in beside him and they each grabbed her upper arms.
Her heart plummeted to her stomach when her husband came into view. Xander was in the center of six warriors chanting magic, the word
traitor,
and kicking him in time.
His father was now missing from the bailey.
“Turn him this way!” Red hollered.
“The lass is his mate. They’ve bonded,” Ice Blue Eyes said. “He needs to watch while I take her.”
She averted her eyes, but not before she caught Xander stilling on the ground. No doubt he’d heard the order and declaration.
Two Fae Warriors grabbed Xander and hauled him to legs that wouldn’t hold his weight. They propped him up between them; one held his head so he couldn’t look away.
Ice Blue Eyes chuckled and dragged two fingers down Janet’s cheek, but he was looking at Xander, not her. “Look while I touch your mate, Traitor. I’ll make her scream my name.”
“Then she’ll scream mine,” Red chimed in.
Murmurs of encouragement went through the group that held Xander captive.
Janet winced when Ice Blue Eyes licked his lips. He tore at her bodice, making her body sway as he loosened the ties and ripped it off.
She locked her jaw and fought the threatening tears. Janet looked straight ahead, because she couldn’t look at the man she loved and she
wouldn’t
look at the man about to rape her.
Ice Blue Eyes tore her leine as he tried to get it off her. Red helped him with her skirts, and soon dark wool pooled at her feet.
Trembling started; she couldn’t stop it no matter how hard she tried.
When they pulled her chemise off her body, and the night air hit her bare form, Janet lost the battle with her tears. They spilled over, clouding her vision. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. Janet tugged against the magic ropes binding her hands to no avail. She wanted to run, but if she did, they would probably be even rougher with her. She wouldn’t resist. Hopefully it would be quick.
Red whistled. “The lass is beautiful, human or not.”
“Perfect,” Ice Blue Eyes breathed.
She stood before them naked as the day she was born, but squared her shoulders despite the tightness of the ropes. Janet mustered a glare.
Red chuckled. “Fire in this one, Mikhias. Careful now.”
A shuffling sound drew her attention and Janet’s eyes shot to her husband. He was struggling against his captors, pain etched his bloody face. His mouth moved, but no sound fell out. Her stomach somersaulted and she wanted to call out that it would be all right, despite what they did to her. Janet wanted to beg him to close his eyes. So they both wouldn’t have to endure him watching it.
She whimpered as they released their holds. Her husband tumbled to the dirt, and they started kicking him. After the audible rush of air puffed from his mouth, Xander lay still—much too still, but they didn’t stop kicking him.
A sob fell from her mouth and she stared, begging him to be alive.
Ice Blue Eyes grabbed her jaw and wrenched her face to his. His mouth bruised hers. But it was over before she could bite him. His fingertips brushed her bare breasts and she cried out.
“You’ll like it with me, lass.” His breath hit her cheek and Janet’s gut tightened.
She wished she could vomit on command.
“Enough!” The roar shook the bailey as Xander’s father landed hard, dust flying up over his gold armor and iridescent wings. He stalked between the two groups of Fae, drawing his glowing sword.
All the winged warriors froze.
Janet shuddered.
“Take the lass to the dungeons. Do
. Not
. Touch. Her. The traitor has had enough. Take him away. Even he deserves reprieve before execution.”
The word made her quiver even more.
Consciousness roared in and out in crushing waves. Xander’s body pulsed with a crippling agony that kept him pinned to the holey pallet in the dank cell. He pressed against the stone wall because it was cool and offered some relief to his swollen face, though it, too, hurt.
He didn’t know how long he’d been in the dungeons.
Ribs were broken, eyes swollen shut and he couldn’t straighten his wings, or his limbs. His right arm was broken and rested across his torso, throbbing. One of his wings was torn.
If he’d any blood left in his veins, it wasn’t much.
Still had no access to his magic, but the burning spell had been lifted.
Now he was mostly numb, his body’s defense to too much stimulus.
And Janet…
Xander couldn’t feel her. She was the barest echo in his mind.
He’d wanted her—begged her—to shut down the bond, but now that she had—loss was as crippling as physical agony.
The bastards had raped her.
A sob ripped from his lips against his will.
Failure.
Xander had failed her—his mate, the most important female to him—in the
worst
way possible. He didn’t know when it’d happened, but suddenly his cousin, the princess he’d sworn to give his life for if necessary, was no longer his primary concern.
Janet is—was.
“I don’t deserve her.”
It was a good thing she’d pushed the bond away. He couldn’t bear what she must be feeling now. Janet must loathe him as they both waited for death.
She was a smart lass. She’d trusted him. Would know how horribly he’d failed her.
Janet would never forgive him.
Should
never forgive him.
Once his father killed him, she would die within weeks, unless her human blood affected the severed bond differently. Regardless, she’d never see her family again.
Everything is your fault.
Her blood is on your hands.
“Open this cell. Move aside. I was sent to heal the traitor.” A familiar voice scrambled the chaos in his mind.
Xander trembled on the straw pallet, but his eyes wouldn’t open when he tried. He lay on his side and could do no more than rock back and forth. New jolts of pain shot into his legs so he made himself lie still.
Heal me?
Why?
Probably so they could torture him again, before his death sentence. King Fillan had instructed his father to deal the final blow. Captain Daegus, ever obedient, agreed.
To kill his only child.
The crystal bars brightened when the lock-spell was released, Xander sensed more than saw. He heard the rustling of fine fabric.
Her gasp was full of emotion, which confirmed her identity, but only confused him more.
Mother?
“Leave us,” she commanded. The words shook.
“I’ve orders to remain with the traitor until the change of guard, Lady Aileana,” a deep voice responded.
“I need to concentrate. Lock me inside. I shall call you when I’m through. He will not hurt me.”
There was some grumbling, but booted feet soon retreated.
“Oh my lad, my Xander.” Her voice was anguished and soft hands cupped his face.
He groaned; if his mouth could’ve opened, Xander would have cried out, as the touch shoved pain all the way to his ears.
She sniffled as she muttered nothings, but he heard spellwords, too. Moisture hit his cheeks. His mother was crying as she healed him.
Agony started to recede from his face. Heat spread down his neck, covering his shoulders and torso. Soothing, brushing him like a dozen warm caresses, lifting the hurts and aches and sharp pains. Xander grunted as his ribs knitted and his arm straightened of its own accord when the bone was once again whole. Pain melted from his torn wing, too. He blinked until his vision cleared, but had to squint against his mother’s glowing form.