Page 8 of The Abyss (Fae's Captive 7)

I smile against him. “You lost.”

“Lost?”

“You came first.” I dart my tongue and lick his nearest nipple, and his cock jolts against me.

“If you call that losing, I’m happy to let you win every time.” His laugh is a warm blanket, a soft kiss, a hug from a friend—and I never want to be without it.

9

Gareth

A commotion pulls me from sleep, and Beth wakes right along with me. The sun is up now, bathing the room in light.

“What is that?” Beth stretches, her bare breasts on perfect display.

I lean over and catch one in my mouth.

“Hey!” She grabs a fistful of my hair but doesn’t push me away.

I circle the bud with my tongue.

The commotion comes again, and she squeezes my strands. “Something’s happening.”

I run my teeth along her nipple. “I know. I can scent your desire.”

“Ugh.” She lies back and rolls toward the edge of the bed. “You know what I mean.”

I let her escape. For now.

“We should go see what’s happening. Besides, we need to get moving. The mines await.” She digs around in the gilded dresser near the door and pulls out a white blouse and some sand-colored pants. “These will do.” She holds the pants up to her hips. “They’re kind of thin material and a little big, but thieves can’t be too choosy.” Grabbing some undergarments, she hurries to the bathing room and closes the door.

Once the view of her stunning ass is gone, I slide from bed and pull on some pants as a wail reaches my ears. Foreboding forms a pit in my stomach, and I stride to the door. Flinging it open, I find slaves scattered down the hall, many of them blanched, their eyes wide.

“What?” I hurry past them and thunder down the stairs. At the bottom, I stop.

Two bodies lie on the polished marble floor, blood soaking through their clothes as their lifeless eyes stare at nothing.

Chastain holds Silmaran in a tight embrace as Parnon flexes his fists again and again. The blood on his tunic belongs to the dead.

“Found them.” His voice is low, and one would think he wasn’t bothered, but I see the uncharacteristic wetness in his eyes. “They’d been left for me to find.”

Silmaran sobs. “They were—they were with me. I saw them fighting. They were winning. I-I saw them—”

“Shh.” Chastain strokes her hair, his hard gaze meeting my own.

“They were fine.” Silmaran’s wail rises again as more slaves enter the foyer, fear casting a pall over them.

“Where did you find them?” Chastain asks.

Parnon grunts. “On the south road, just outside the city. Left there like trash. Their guts on the ground, buzzards feasting.” The last words crunch through his teeth as his jaw tightens. “A warning.”

“And a promise.” I approach the bodies and kneel, inspecting their wounds. “Zatran has carved his mark on both of them, and these marks here—” I point. “Are from the same blade Cenet used on me.”

Silmaran turns, her tear-streaked face coloring a deep red. “I will hunt them to the ends of Arin!”

I bow my head and ask the Ancestors to look after these two warriors as they enter the Glowing Lands. “Now we know Zatran and Cenet escaped, and I have no doubt their plans for Cranthum and its slave trade are still intact.”

Silmaran wipes her eyes with harsh resolve. “What plans?”

“Cenet wants a war to end the realms.” I sigh, suddenly weary. “He and—”

“No.” Beth stops in the middle of the stairs, her eyes fixed on Nemar and Eldra. “No!”

“Beth.” I take the steps two at a time and pull her into my arms.

She buries her face against my chest. “Tell me it’s not them.”

“I’m sorry.” I walk her down the stairs as a freed slave brings a tasseled blanket to cover the bodies. “Zatran’s work. He and Cenet. They left them on the south road.”

She looks up at me, her chin trembling despite her efforts to control it. “Why?”

“A message. A warning not to follow.” Silmaran’s eyes are clear now. “And a threat for what’s to come.”

“Zatran and Cenet—they went south?” Beth sniffles and stares at the blanket. Her despair trickles down the bond in doleful waves.

“Let’s go into the dining room.” I take her elbow.

“I’m fine.” She pushes her shoulders back, though I can see the paleness in her cheeks. “I’ll be better when we find Zatran and gut him.”

Parnon grunts his agreement, his gaze still locked on his comrades beneath the blanket.

“Gareth’s right.” Silmaran sighs and walks to him. “Come on, old friend.” She offers her hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, he takes it in his massive one.

“Wash and prepare them.” Chastain speaks to one of the slaves nearest him. “A hero’s funeral for both.”

“It will be done.” The slave nods, and the rest of us funnel into the back of the large house and into a dining room with high, wide windows covered in flowy fabrics of emerald and gold.

I pull a chair out for Beth. She sits heavily and braces one arm on the table top.

Parnon closes the door behind us, his weighty steps jarring more dust loose from the fractured ceiling. When he sits on the stone hearth at the end of the room, he lets out a gusty sigh. I feel it in my bones. Yesterday was too much for all of us, and today brought even more grief. What horrors will tomorrow hold?

Chastain grabs a decanter and glasses from a sideboard and pours drinks, then hands them out to all of us.

Clearing his throat, he raises his glass filled with amber liquid. “To Eldra and Nemar.”

“Eldra and Nemar.” The words are there and gone, sucked away by the silence of loss as we all drain our glasses.

I wrap an arm around Beth. Touching her is as natural as breathing, and the bond tells me her soul is aching. If I can do anything to ease her, I will.

“Our friends should be here. We won. The city is ours.” Silmaran fights her tears and masters them. Her cheeks remain dry as she smashes her fist into the fine table. “This is their victory.”

“Zatran will pay.” Chastain puts a hand on her shoulder. “Cenet, too.”

“They’d make nice ornaments on the city gates.” Beth’s bloodlust matches my own. I want them dead and gone, sent to the Spires never to return. Cenet will always be a threat to my mate and my king, and Zatran could die a thousand deaths and still not atone for his writhing pit of sins.

“Plans.” Silmaran sits. “We have so many plans for Cranthum.” She rubs her face, her tired eyes closing for only a brief moment. “And we’ve already started the work. Last night transformed us. No more slaves. But it will take a strong hand—”

“Your hand.” Chastain sits beside her.

She tries to give him a smile, but she’s too weary and sad to make it happen. “My hand. Yes. I will hold this city together as we start a new way of life. Silmaran sees all. And we have plenty of slaves close to us that we can trust to ensure peace, civility, and a calm transition. No more of the lawlessness that reigned in the early hours.” She leans back. “Yesterday. Was it only yesterday? The bazaar? It seems so far away now. A lifetime ago.”

Chastain rises and pours us all another round. “We need this.”

“We do.” Beth agrees and tips her glass up.

“Go easy, my beloved. We haven’t eaten since—”

“I’m good.” Beth slams her glass on the table and turns to Silmaran. “I want to see them dead. I want to watch you kill them. But I can’t.” She rises, determination and regret filtering down the bond. “I’ve made a vow to Clotty, and I’m going to keep it. Gareth and I have to go.”

“Your interests and ours might not need to diverge.” Chastain sits again, his silver eyes on Silmaran.

“What? We’re going to the mines, not on an asshole hunt with you.” Beth frowns. “Though I wish I could do both.”

; “Maybe you can.” Chastain tips his glass toward us. “Yesterday, when we discussed the help the rebellion needs, you made it quite clear you were heading south to liberate Clotty. We respect that, and we wouldn’t want to dissuade you.”

“Okay. Good, I guess? So, yeah, same page.” She looks down at me.

Something tells me that Chastain and Silmaran have plans that stretch much farther than Cranthum or even Byrn Varyndr. And I have a strong inkling that the mines are of just as much interest to them as they are to us.

Chastain glances at Silmaran, who gives him a go-ahead nod. “We have something of a proposition for you. I think it will work out to our mutual benefit, and we can—”

“No.” I stand with Beth. “You can give us your plan, but I already have my answer. No. Better yet, allow me to lay it all out so we’re all speaking the same language. You and Silmaran want to liberate the mines, bring the slaves back through the Abyss and add them to Cranthum’s defenses in case Queen Aurentia decides to march south. Or, you can use those additional soldiers to march north and stay on offense. In other words, you want us to carry the message of liberation to the mines and start a rebellion there. On top of that, it appears Zatran and Cenet have fled south, perhaps hoping to use the mines as their own recruitment area for an army to destroy the rebellion. All this means that Beth and I are most likely walking into a meat grinder, and you want to be the one turning the crank. Am I missing anything?”

Beth’s mouth drops into an ‘o’ as her brows draw together.

Chastain cocks his head to the side. “One quibble—I’d rather bring the slaves to Cranthum via the Grave Bridge. It triples the journey time but is a bit safer.”