Now it wasn’t just Rhi who needed to be saved. There was Kiril and Shara as well.
Phelan followed the guards to make sure he knew where Shara was being held before he made his way back to the doorway. He stepped through the doorway back into the garden at the Blackwoods’ and stopped dead in his tracks when he came face-to-face with Con, Rhys, and Usaeil.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Kiril let his rage build and fester until it was as feral and uncontrollable as Ulrik’s Silvers had been when they killed humans.
Shara’s betrayal cut deeper than anything Kiril had ever experienced. He’d trusted her with not just his life but Rhi’s. And even though Shara didn’t know about Phelan, her betrayal affected him as well.
At least Phelan would be able to get out of Balladyn’s fortress and back to Scotland. It was small comfort, but anything was better than nothing.
“Wait until Balladyn gets ahold of you, Dragon,” a Dark Fae sneered, contempt contorting his face as they chained him to the wall of his prison.
Kiril looked at him calmly, hiding his fury completely. “Enjoy your reign, Dark, because it willna last forever.”
The solider looked at his comrade and they both laughed before exiting. The sound of the door closing reverberated in the silent, eerie dungeon.
Kiril took a deep breath and pulled on his chains. He wasn’t able to break them. Then he tried to shift, which would shatter anything that dared to try to hold a King. But for the first time, he wasn’t able to.
Just as he had guessed, they were spelled to hold a Dragon King—in all ways. The same kind of chains that had held Kellan—except Kellan had gotten loose with his mate’s help. Kiril didn’t have a mate.
His gut churned with the treachery Shara had dealt him. How could he have been so wrong about her? Her duplicity had given the advantage to the Dark Fae.
He fisted his hands. When he got free—because he would get free—he was going to hunt Shara down. He’d wrap his hands around her neck as before, except he wouldn’t release her or stop squeezing.
To think he had felt sorry for her, been lured in by her sad tales in regards to how her family treated her. Kiril had never thought himself able to be duped in such a manner.
Ulrik probably hadn’t either.
Kiril didn’t know what made him think of his Dragon King brother, but once he had, he couldn’t stop the comparisons. The anger rushing through him was great, as was the need for retribution.
That was only after a few minutes. What would he feel like thousands of years from now? The answer to that was simple: much, much worse.
They should have embraced Ulrik to help him past his rage instead of sending him out on his own in a world he despised with every fiber of his being.
The door to his prison opened slowly, and a shape took form as it stepped inside. Kiril blinked, unsure whether his eyes were being tricked.
“It’s been awhile,” Ulrik said as he looked him up and down.
Kiril tried to take a step toward him, but the rattle of the chains followed by a jerk as he reached the short leash stopped him. He looked over the jeans, black button-down, and boots to the golden eyes he knew well and long black hair that hung loose. “Ulrik? Is that really you?”
“Aye. Of all the Kings, I wouldna have expected to find you here. Rhys, aye, because he has always been the rash one, but no’ you.”
Kiril didn’t bother to respond since there was nothing to say.
“Odd,” Ulrik continued, “how females no matter what species they are have a way of deceit. I think it’s part of them, just like breathing.”
Kiril had to agree with him. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough. I wonder though, how much did you hear?”
“Excuse me?” He was taken aback by Ulrik’s words. Kiril searched his mind for what had happened when Balladyn came upon them. He’d heard and seen everything.
Ulrik shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s none of my business. I’m no longer one of you.”
“You’ve always been one of us.”
“Really?” He chuckled softly … coldly. “Is that why Con has spied on me all these years? Is that why I’m welcome anytime at Dreagan? Is that why my brothers visit me?”
Kiril glanced at the ground feeling as low as a slug. “There have been many wrongs done by us through the years.”
“Always the diplomat, aye, Kiril? Sometimes I think you should’ve been King of Kings.”
He shook his head. “I had enough trouble being King to my dragons. I never wanted Con’s troubles.”
“The men who make the best leaders are the ones who doona want the position.”
Kiril cocked his head to the side. He remembered all too well that there was only one other who could have bested Con and taken the crown—Ulrik. But he hadn’t wanted to be King of Kings. He had shunned the idea, stepping aside to let Con have it unchallenged.
“You matched Con in strength and power,” Kiril pointed out. “You didna want the position.”