The Last Warrior (Shifters Unbound #13) - Jennifer Ashley Page 0,5

go,” Ben said.

He helped Rhianne to her feet. She clung to him and dragged her hair from a black-streaked face, her breath ragged.

Cian sprang up. “This way, my friends.”

Ben did not know if Rhianne understood dokk alfar, but she caught the gist and started off after him.

Cian led the way down the hill, Rhianne and Ben behind him, Ben steadying her. Somehow, they’d never released hands.

No one pursued the three fugitives. Hoch alfar were renowned archers, but the land behind this side of the castle was thick with trees. No arrow stood a chance.

Cian led them with confidence, though the woods looked the same in all directions to Ben. He’d grown up in Faerie, but that had been a long time ago, nowhere near here, and everything he’d ever known had changed. A thousand years did that to a place.

Rhianne kept pace easily, without hysterics or terror. She was outwardly composed, but her grip on Ben’s hand was tight, as though she remained calm only through the lifeline of their touch.

The hill smoothed out the more they descended until they came out of the trees to a fairly flat space beside a rushing river. Cian turned and led them upstream.

Rhianne hung back. “Not that way.”

She spoke in English. Ben called softly to Cian, who glanced behind him with impatience.

“We need to hurry,” Cian said in dokk alfar. “Once Madhug regroups, he’ll be on us.”

Rhianne didn’t move. “We’re going the wrong direction. My mother’s house is downstream from here. That’s the safest place. We can seek refuge with her.”

Ben cleared his throat, his face growing warm. “We’re not going to Lady Aisling’s.”

Rhianne’s angry stare pinned him. Her eyes were dark brown, not the black that most Fae and Tuil Erdannan possessed, but a rich chocolate. If Ben had glanced quickly at her and away, he might have decided her eyes were black, but closer observation showed him that this was untrue.

“No?” Rhianne pulled from Ben’s grasp. A chill touched his palm, his hand emptier without hers in it. “I thought my mother sent you. Who are you?”

Ben saw her fear rise as she assumed she’d gone from frying pan to fire. Cian, glaring, didn’t help.

“Lady Aisling did send us,” Ben said quickly. “But her house isn’t safe for you, according to her.”

Rhianne took a step back, fear changing to outrage. It was not a good idea to enrage a Tuil Erdannan, even a beautiful and vulnerable one in tattered clothing daringly rescued from a hoch alfar stronghold.

“How could her house not be safe?” Rhianne demanded. “Where else could be better? No one would dare harm me there.”

“Not even your father?” Ben asked gently.

Ben hadn’t wanted to explain until he had her in the haunted house on the other side of the gate exactly why Lady Aisling had told Ben to take Rhianne to safety. The middle of hoch alfar territory, exposed to whoever decided to hunt them, was not the place for revelations or loud arguments.

Rhianne’s mouth dropped open. “My—” Her arms went rigid, ending in tight fists. She clamped her lips shut, but the flash in her eyes bode no good. “Fine then,” she said tersely. “Let us go to wherever you think you can hide me from Walther le Madhug and my not so very dear father.”

She pushed past Ben and marched after Cian, who’d already strode on. She did not reach again for Ben’s hand. Chin lifted, back straight, she followed Cian along the river path, the queenly Tuil Erdannan in her making her beautiful and untouchable, but Ben saw her back tremble.

My father. Rhianne fumed as she followed the dokk alfar. Her rescuer, Ben, whatever sort of creature he was, tramped heavily behind her.

She had heard her mother mention Ben’s name, but she’d never met him. Rhianne hadn’t been home in a long, long time, pursuing her own life and trying to find peace far from here, on the coast, where the stars shone in abundance in clear skies.

She hadn’t set eyes on her elusive father in many years. He and her mother had separated when Rhianne had been a child, both she and Lady Aisling happy to see the back of the evil man. Ivor de Erkkonen had made it clear he had no interest in his daughter.

Until now, it seemed. If he’d convinced Walther to kidnap her, and even helped him do it, then Lady Aisling was right. Rhianne wasn’t safe. Ivor was a powerful Tuil Erdannan, even more so than Lady Aisling. If he