Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,59
Her bruised feet carried her through the city. Wood fae warriors had begun to pour through the open gates, swarming through the streets and toward the castle. She didn’t question what that meant. She already knew.
The air fae had fallen.
Mist swirled through the black stone city. It ensnared every building, like a painter had taken his brush and smudged the entire landscape until it was nothing more than shades of meaningless grey. Reyna stumbled through it, her hand still clutching her ice dagger against her chest. She couldn’t bring herself to put it back into her waistband, even if it would give her away as Reyna Darragh.
Lorcan was dead.
The wood king had chopped off his head.
Nausea built in her throat, cloying and thick. She darted into an alley and choked up the sick, falling onto her knees on the slick stone. As soon as the heaving stopped, the sobs restarted. She shook as the tears poured down her face, dripping into her mouth. Curling up into a ball, she leaned against the alley wall and let the sobs shudder through her.
Lorcan was dead.
And so the Ruin awoke. What if you hadn’t sent Wingallock away? If you’d come here to tell Lorcan about Thane’s plan, none of this would have happened. If you hadn’t decided to kill the wood king, Lorcan would still be alive.
She no longer had the energy or the willpower to block it out. The words crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her thoughts turned dark. The Ruin was right. It was all her fault.
You will end up destroying everyone you ever loved. That is what the Namhaid does. I am the Protector. You are the Destroyer. You cannot run from it anymore, Reyna Darragh. What happens if you do not accept what you are? Who dies next? Your sister?
Reyna moaned and thumped her head against the wall. The Ruin’s voice grew louder. It whispered her every worry, her every fear, and then some. She clapped her hands against her ears, but it was no use. It kept prattling on until exhaustion finally pulled her under.
She awoke with a start. Her cheek pressed against cool stone, and her limbs ached from where they curled beneath her. For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was, and then it all came crashing through her once more. Moaning, she squeezed her eyes tight, as if that might somehow make it all disappear. Her heart felt as if it had been carved up, slivers of it scattered all throughout the city.
Lorcan was dead.
The Ruin was quiet, but she knew he would not stay that way. Soon, he would be back. For now, he would enjoy watching her struggle beneath the weight of his words. She knew he was right. She’d brought this upon Lorcan.
And the more she fought against the Ruin, the worse it would get.
She could not allow her existence as the Namhaid get anyone else she loved killed. Eislyn, her father, even Thane. They would be doomed if they ever laid eyes on her again, just like Lorcan had been.
Lorcan. Her heart squeezed.
“Maybe I’ll just go live alone in the Dorcha Mountains,” she muttered to herself. “Or I could trap myself in Inishfall. There’d be a whole portal between me and the rest of the world. Maybe that would save them.”
“Why you in the alley over there muttering to yourself, lass?”
Reyna started. She’d been pacing in circles in the alley, speaking her every thought out loud like some kind of madwoman. Maybe she was. A kindly, frizzy-haired female had stepped up to the mouth of it and peered inside to see a frantic Reyna, dressed as a wood fae, pacing in circles. Pretty brave, really.
“I’ve had a really bad day,” Reyna said frankly, but then she glanced up at a sky that glowed red. It was now dawn. “Well, it was a bad night. And now it’s brand new day that is just as bad.”
“I can see that, love.” The shadow fae gave her a pointed look. Reyna glanced down and swallowed the gasp that built in her throat. She was covered in blood and sick. She must stink. Thankfully, she couldn’t smell herself. “You want to explain it to me?”
“I’m not a wood fae,” she quickly said, knowing what the fae must think. Reyna hoped she hadn’t called for warriors, and then remembered it wouldn’t matter if she had. The wood king had taken over the city now. There likely weren’t any shadow fae warriors left.