Heart of the Fae (The Otherworld #1)(76)

Or they didn’t want to share. The moment felt so infinitely private that Sorcha wasn’t sure she could breathe a word of it. She tucked the memory into a hidden part of her soul for a time when she felt lost or discouraged.

For a single moment in time, she had felt what it meant to be cherished.

Her mind flared to life as the heat in her body disappeared.

“Oona!” She gasped.

He’d left this bedroom with clear intent in his eyes. Anger had radiated from his skin like a physical being, his crystals glowing and shimmering with rage. Stone had promised he would never hurt her, but Sorcha had no way of knowing whether he promised the same to the faeries under his protection.

She burst into motion, rushing from the room, and swinging herself over the bannister and down the stairs. There was no time for exhaustion, no hesitation nor second thoughts. Sorcha had to warn Oona, to rush her from the castle until she could figure out a way to calm him down if possible.

As much as Stone knew his people’s families, he didn’t know them well enough to guess where they were. Most of the pixies on the isle slept with each other in Macha’s garden. They said it kept them safe and protected.

Oona wasn’t like the others. She slept in the kitchens with the brownies, to make sure that her domain was clean every night.

If Sorcha had observed Stone correctly, he would go to the pixie grotto first. Then he would go to the kitchens.

She ran shoulder first into a door, busting through it so she could shorten her path to the kitchens. Stone’s legs were longer. He would be much faster, but he was operating through rage and nothing else. Sorcha was still thinking clearly.

Rooms filled with covered furniture and shattered wood flickered through her vision as she ran through each long dead room. Spider webs tangled in her hair and dust covered her shoulders as she made the last jump and threw open the door to the glowing warmth of the kitchens.

“Oona,” she frantically called. “Oona! Wake up!”

A small mound in the corner shifted, and the pixie sat up. She didn’t don her glamour immediately. The round face didn't match the persona Oona had chosen for herself. The high peaks of her forehead resembled an oak leaf, violet tinges blushing the high tips and trailing down her shoulders onto her wings.

“What? Who is it?”

“Get up, Oona! He’s coming!”

“What?” The pixie burst into movement, throwing blankets into the air and rushing towards Sorcha. “Where is he coming from?”

“I’d assumed he would go to the grotto first.”

A roar shook the door, coming from Macha’s fountain.

Oona glanced over her shoulder. “You are correct. And now you know I am Unseelie.”

“Yes.”

“I did not mean to lie, but there are so many secrets in our world. The Queen wanted to see you, and I could not refuse.”

“Oona he’s almost here!” Sorcha wrapped her hand around Oona’s forearm and tugged. “You’re coming with me. I know where to put you until he calms down.”

“I won’t put you in harm’s way.”

“I’m the only person in this castle that has nothing to fear from him, he gave me his word. Come with me!”

Oona glanced at her in shock. “He promised what?”

“If you don’t come with me now, I will carry you. Get moving!”

“The master has never given anyone a promise of protection. Explain yourself, dearie.”

Sorcha blew a breath at her hair. “Oona, I order you to follow me now.”

Using the faerie’s name was harsh, but Sorcha could hear his footsteps pounding towards the kitchen. Their time was short.

Oona’s spine straightened and fire flashed in her eyes. But she followed Sorcha when she turned and raced back the way she came.

Sorcha tried to make their trail difficult to follow. She took them through different sections of the castle, hoping a long chase would quell some of his head. They passed broken statues, scuttling spiders, and ripped paintings of faeries she would never meet.

“We’re almost there,” her harsh whisper barely audible over the pounding of their feet. “So close, Oona. Keep up.”

The faerie ran faster.

Sorcha slid around a corner, skidding until her spine hit the wall with a harsh thunk. The air whooshed from her lungs, but she forced herself to keep going. She didn’t know what Stone planned on doing. The fear in Oona’s eyes spoke volumes, and it was enough for her to steal the faerie away.

Her gut said Stone would regret any judgement he made in anger. These faeries had dedicated their lives to him. They weren’t slaves, they weren’t servants, and he had no right to harm them. Even if they made mistakes.

She slammed into the carved wall and pressed the stone in the sword’s pommel. The grating grind echoed. Stone’s enraged shout was far closer than she hoped.

Sorcha grabbed Oona’s shoulders and shook her. “You listen to me. There’s a bathroom in the back corner with a hot spring. Get into the springs and do not come out until I come get you. Do you hear me?”

“You’re putting yourself in danger for no reason, dearie. Don’t worry yourself with me. I’ve lived a full life.”

“And I would have you live more. Oona, I order you to hide in the hot springs.”