Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,110

to knock her down. “I’ve made mistakes. I’m not perfect. But I’m not the fae you say I am.”

Your mind will be twisted by Unseelie.

“You’re wrong,” she said, fisting her hands. “I’ve stared Unseelie in the face, and here I am. I’m nothing like what you’ve said I’d become, but you know who is? Ulaid Molt. He feasts on blood and bone. Unseelie’s power fuels him and his warriors. They’re ripping this city to shreds, and then they’ll move on to the rest of the continent. The other kingdoms will fall, and then what? Will he stop there? He is the Namhaid. You’ve been wrong this entire time.”

NO. The Ruin shouted the word. It rang in her head so loud that she winced, covering her ears. And then suddenly, he fell silent. She could feel his rage churning beneath her skin, alive and writhing like a thousand snakes, but his words had vanished like wraiths.

Lorcan frowned, running his hands up and down her bare arms, like he was desperately trying to keep her warm. “What’s it saying?”

“It doesn’t believe me,” she muttered. “The Ruin is an imperfect magic created by an imperfect Fomorian. Logic isn’t its strong point. Destruction is.”

His frown deepened. “What if it refuses to attack the wood king?”

Reyna’s heart pulsed. Would it? She’d never seen the Ruin spare anyone. That was the one thing she’d always been able to count on with its magic. Wherever it went, nothing would survive.

You’re wrong. I spared those children, it whispered.

Those children. “In the Ice Court village? Didn’t they survive by hiding from you?”

They stared me in the face and begged me not to kill them. I saw them for what they were. Innocents.

“But then…” Frustration poured through Reyna’s heart. “Why do you kill everything else? You’ve never spared children before.”

Because…sometimes I cannot see who is who. The Ruin’s voice was nothing more than a harsh whisper. Sometimes, I see nothing more than silver. When they stood amidst my storm and stared up into my face, I could see that they weren’t you.

“So, you can reason.” She fisted her hands. “Which means that you can understand that I am not—”

The Ruin roared. It screamed into her mind until its voice broke, shattering like ice glass. The writhing beneath her skin ceased. All went calm and still. Her hands shaking, she clutched onto Lorcan’s strong shoulders and peered up at him.

“It’s angry. We need to go now before…”

“Before what?” he growled, his midnight eyes flashing with worry.

“I think it’s scared I’m right.” She sucked in a lungful of misty air. “I don’t know how much time I have left before it finishes me off for good. We have to get inside that castle and kill Molt before it’s too late.” Because the Ruin would die with her, and no one would be able to stop the wood king then.

Lorcan wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with an intensity that made her toes curl. Hunger rose up inside of her, and a desperate need clenched her core. She leaned into him, relishing in his soft lips, the steady strength of his leather armor, the thick curls that brushed against her cheek.

He pulled back and gazed into her eyes. Heat and anger and desperate hope all churned together in the darkness of them. “We will get through this. I swear this to you.”

A sharp ache speared her heart. “Please don’t make promises you cannot keep.”

“I will keep this promise.” He grabbed the back of her neck, gripping her hair tight. “I will fight by your side until my breath is stolen from my lungs and until my heart stops beating. Until every star in the sky dies. Nothing will take you from me ever again. Not even the strongest magic in the world.”

She curled her hands around his armor and pressed up onto her toes, kissing him one last time. She wished he were right. Surviving this and spending her life by his side was the only way she wanted her story to end.

“Come on,” she whispered. “As much as I wish I could stand here kissing you forever, the king grows stronger while I grow weaker.”

Lorcan hesitated before finally nodding and handing her a small dagger he’d strapped to his thigh. Reyna wished for her own weapon, but it was locked up somewhere inside that castle. With a deep breath, she wrapped her hand around the ice glass ring at her throat and sent up a prayer to whatever god might