Saving the Fae (Daughter of Light #3) - Leia Stone Page 0,40

was close by. People stumbled out of my way as I ran for the giant house in the clearing. It was rustic in style and stood tall on the flat plain, casting shadows around the people who flocked in front of it.

He was here. I could sense it. Like a magnet reeling me in with a powerful force, the closer I got, the stronger the feeling became. My wings quivered in anticipation.

Please, don’t let him be hurt, I prayed.

Pain suddenly sliced into my thigh, and I jerked my head to the right, the direction it had come from.

Guards.

The ‘people’ milling about the front lawn of the house were guards. I’d been so comfortable seeing the hundreds of fae running around to avoid me that I hadn’t been on the lookout for the actual enemy. The Son who shot me was tall, wearing all black head to toe with a handful of throwing knives in his grip.

Crap.

Peering down at the small silver throwing blade lodged in my thigh somehow made the pain worsen. As if seeing it made it more real and therefore more painful.

With a burst of anger, I flicked my wrist, and the guard went flying. Instead of shooting a stream of light at him as I thought, I’d blown him backward fifty feet to crash into an outcropping of trees.

Thank you, power upgrade.

I’m sure the Queen had years to train with this power, and I’d had only minutes. I was going to have to learn on the fly.

Reaching for the handle of the small knife, I yanked it from my thigh as dull pain throbbed in the area, and blood began to trickle, wet and sticky down my pants. Using my other hand, I pulsed a bit of healing light into the wound and limped for the door.

A few more guards came at me, but I either shot them with a beam of light or blasted them outward into the trees. The surrounding fae had backed up into a large circle and simply whispered at me while they stared. This wasn’t exactly a great first impression, but I thought it was good they saw the power display. That way, if they ever came to Faerie, they would fear me and hopefully not double-cross me.

Bursting through the front door, I scanned the house, sending my magical seeker feelers throughout the space.

Liam was below ground level… like under me.

Basement.

I flew through the entryway, opening doors like a madwoman. When I found someone on the other side who wasn’t Liam, I blasted them with my power, knocking them out. I felt like a crazed maniac, simply reacting without thinking. I needed to get Liam out of here, get the crystals, and get home.

Finally, I pulled the handle of a dark, wood-stained door, and it revealed a set of steps that flowed downward.

“Liam!” I shouted, my wings taking flight as I skimmed the top of the steps and flew down into the basement.

It was a large, stained concrete room, and when my eyes scanned the space, my heart lodged in my throat at the sight of a human figure draped in the corner. His black wings were limp, and one of them was bent.

“Liam.” My throat felt like sandpaper. Was he breathing?

A groan came from the rumpled form, and tears sprang from my eyes. Running for him, I did a double scan to make sure we were alone.

We were.

Thankfully.

Slipping onto my knees, I reached for him and pulled his face up to look at me. A gasp ripped from my throat when I saw the swollen eyes, split lip, dried blood crusted at the corners of his mouth.

That. Mother. Fucker.

My love, my soulmate. The Winter King beat his own son? No real father could do that.

“The witch.” Liam seemed to read my gaze, and I relaxed a little. Somehow, I felt slightly better, knowing it was her and not his own flesh and blood.

“Come on, we’re going home.” I tried to lift him, but Liam whimpered.

“No. Leave me.” Dark circles shone under both eyes, and I wondered what that bitch did to the man I loved.

The sword. The Winter King must have used the sword to control him, but it also had a dark side. It affected Liam, and I’d seen that when we brought it from the Winter Court. I didn’t feel the sword nearby, so I didn’t think it was still actively affecting him, but it clearly still had a lingering hold on him.

“Liam, it’s Lily. Remember the treehouse? We’re