Siege And Seduction

19

I yanked my arm from his grip. “I don’t know what you’re implying. I never ordered him to kill Rebecca, although I wouldn’t have mourned her loss. My war against Guin was none of her business—she’s a sniveling child, drunk on heroics and blinded by rose-colored glasses,” I hissed. He made it sound like I had sent assassins to kill small children and burned babies for entertainment. Yes, some Unseelie made it to Earth as I attempted to perfect my ability to open portals. The Hunt would undoubtedly track down each of them. There were causalities, but that was the price of war. Some of the greatest generals in Fae and human history were responsible for massive body counts, but they were regarded as heroes. It was all about perspective. “Oh, that’s rich,” he grumbled under his breath as he resumed walking at a brisk pace. “You start the stone rolling down the hill but refuse to claim responsibility for the landslide—is that how it works? Ronan was psychotic, and you used him like a weapon.” Knight set a bruising pace that had me jogging to keep up. “He was not psychotic! He might have been a little misguided, but that wasn’t his fault. His father abandoned him as a child! You don’t know half of what he went through before he came into my care.” Knight suddenly halted, sending me careening into his back. “Not psychotic?” he spat as he spun around. “He held a centuries-old grudge against Lochlan that was so consuming, he r***d a woman and killed another just for vengeance—not exactly the pinnacle of stability. Although, maybe in your twisted mind, he was innocent as a choir boy. Not long ago, you were preaching about owning your actions. You were quick to point fingers at Merlin for his shortcomings, but you sure as hell seem blind to your own.” His verbal assault stole my breath. Ronan had r***d a woman and killed another? For revenge against Lochlan? I couldn’t reconcile Knight’s words with the image of the young man I had helped raise. Granted, I rarely saw him after he had joined the Hunt centuries ago to gather information. It had been too dangerous. They couldn’t find out he was connected to me, nor could he have any knowledge of the motivations behind my actions. The Huntsmen were linked by a bond with their leader, the Erlking. If Ronan had known anything about me, it might have been discovered. Had Ronan changed so drastically in the years we were apart? Had he misinterpreted my aim and acted on my behalf? Would he have seen my actions as purely driven by vengeance and extrapolated my intent based on pain from his own past? What had gone on while I was busy recruiting the Unseelie? I hadn’t known Knight long, but he didn’t seem the sort to make up such egregious allegations. The possible implications sent dread trickling down my spine like the first drops of a rainstorm crawling down a windowpane. My stomach churned with uncertainty. “I didn’t know,” I offered weakly. Knight released a long sigh before turning around and resuming our walk. This time, he maintained a more reasonable pace. I kept stride with him, but neither of us spoke for long minutes. It was no wonder they all hated me if they believed I’d sent a monster into their midst. It pained me to think of Ronan in that way. He’d been troubled when I first met him, but after a while, he’d rarely showed me that side. I’d thought he’d matured beyond his past, but it appeared I’d been wrong. Viewing myself from the perspective of Knight and his friends, I wondered at why he’d agreed to be near me at all, let alone voluntarily embark on an adventure with me. What did that say about him? Any number of assumptions came to mind—maybe he was that angelic sort who believed he could save everyone around him. Maybe he had a darker side to him that was drawn to my misdeeds. Maybe he was desperate for his memories, or maybe he was just bored. No one knew my motivations, so I wasn’t about to guess at his. Eventually, we entered a thicker part of the woods where the undergrowth was dense and vines hung heavily, crisscrossing our path. Some we were able to go around or under, others needed to be severed to clear a trail. Knight led the way, attempting to yank down vines and push past thick vegetation. I pulled out the butcher knife I had absconded with and offered it to him. “Here, since you didn’t deign it necessary to come prepared.” He took the knife into his wide grip. “Jesus, what else are you hiding in there? Should I be afraid to go to sleep tonight?” I attempted to squash my ever-widening smile as I spoke. “I suggested you bring supplies.” How he managed to make me smile when I was annoyed with him, I would never know. It was his superpower—like he was Captain Chill, capable of lulling angry mobs into a false sense of serenity. “Supplies are one thing; I’m worried you have an armory.” He hacked at several vines blocking our path. “Have no fear. The knife was the most dangerous item I could find in the house. If you’d taken the time to pack a few things, you might have noticed that Merlin was rather selective in what he made available to me.” “I suppose I can admit that the transition back to being Fae might have been more challenging than I initially suspected. I’m used to fending for myself and not relying on anyone or anything. I haven’t had a home or any belongings in centuries. It’s difficult to break the mindset.” He stretched up to grasp one of the vines, and his shirt lifted to reveal an inch of skin on his lower back. I’d never considered it a particularly erotic part of the body, but at that moment, that sliver of skin sucked every thought from my head. My eyes leisurely roved up his clothed back, over his bulging shoulders, and along the corded muscle of his raised arms. He had those thick forearms that made a girl think about how easily a man might be able to hold her against a wall as he pounded into her. I might not have been thrilled about having a companion, but as companions went, he was definitely easy on the eyes. So easy that I completely lost track of what he’d been saying. Ah yes, difficult transition, not a dog anymore. “It’s a long time to live as another species,” I agreed. “You said you can’t remember anything from your life before?” “Nope. Nothing.” He accented the words with swipes of the knife across dangling vines. “What about your time … with the Red Caps?” My words hitched with uncertainty. He had been relatively open about discussing his past, but I understood some things were more sensitive than others. “Lucky me, that’s all clear as day.” “Did they turn you into a wolf?” “I think it had been done before I fell into their hands, but since I don’t remember that time period, I can’t say for sure.” “So you don’t remember who turned you?” “No.” “Do you know how long you were captive?”