“How did the Dark learn of him?” Kiril asked.
Shara shrugged, noting that both men’s eyes were riveted on her. “Some say Taraeth sought him out, but the story that’s the most popular states that it was Ulrik who came to Taraeth and made a deal to work together.”
“To bring us down,” Con finished with a curse.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Rhys ducked into the barn and checked his side where the injury had been yet again. He could still feel it eating through him, though he was healed. The agony had been unimaginable, the torment inconceivable.
The fact he had been dying slowly, painfully was mind-boggling.
Dragon magic. There was no denying that’s what had hit him. He knew because he had been struck with dragon magic before during the brief period when the Kings were split on whether to kill or protect the humans. Those faithful to Ulrik had rallied to help him annihilate the humans. Thankfully, the battle between the Kings had been fleeting, but even then many of them had died needlessly.
There was no doubt in his mind that the magic hadn’t been used by Kiril. Con, though an arrogant ass most of the time, wouldn’t be so underhanded. If Con had a problem with you, he dealt with you face-to-face.
Which begged the question of who had tried to kill him. There were no other Dragon Kings in Ireland at the time. Nor could a Dark Fae use dragon magic. Ulrik, though he had been in Ireland was unable to use his magic. Con had seen to that ages ago. The mystery was eating Rhys up inside.
His mobile dinged with a text. He pulled it from his back pocket to see it was from Banan’s mate, Jane, who was manning the gift shop.
A WOMAN IS WAITING FOR YOU. SAYS SHE’S EXPECTED, the text read.
Rhys had completely forgotten about his date. Normally he dropped everything to spend his nights with a beautiful woman, but he wanted to be alone. To think and … to forget the horrors almost dying had brought him.
He typed, TELL HER I’M UNWELL AND WILL CALL HER SOON.
Rhys hit the send button and set aside his phone facedown before he braced his hands on the table and hung his head. None of the others could know his concern. Already the Kings were being hit from too many sides by their enemies.
His eyes closed and the face of every Dragon King scrolled through his mind’s eye while he discerned if they held a grudge against him. There were many Kings who had returned to their sleep after the battle alongside the Warriors and Druids.
Any of them could have slipped out unnoticed from their caves and found him, but why would they? Rhys had yet to come up with a reason why he would be targeted by his brethren.
The barest of pops sounded from the hinges on the door, alerting him that he was no longer alone. Rhys quickly straightened and grabbed the electrical sheep shearers near him. He was cleaning the blades when he spotted Con out of the corner of his eye.
“Everything all right?” Con asked nonchalantly.
He glanced at Con and forced a smile. There was nothing casual about his visit. “Never better.”
“I saw your date leaving without you. What’s going on?”
Rhys stilled for a moment before he grabbed a rag and wiped the blades. “It’s no’ exactly a good time to be having fun, now, is it?”
“That’s never bothered you before.”
“It does now.” Rhys prayed Con would leave things and walk away. He should’ve known better.
Con strode farther into the room. “I suspect Kiril will want Shara as his mate.”
“Most likely. He loves her,” Rhys said with a shrug.
“Who do you think would be a likely candidate to tear us apart?”
Con’s question, posed in a soft tone, sent warning bells ringing in Rhys’s mind. He slowly set aside the shears and turned his head to Con. “You think Shara is here for that?”
“She was a candidate for all of a heartbeat. She’s true to her word and Kiril.”
Rhys shifted to face Con and leaned his hip against the table. “There is the Dark Fae, MI5 or any other human organization who have aligned with the Dark, and then there is Ulrik.”
“So you do think he could be a part of this,” Con said with a small smile.
“It’s a possibility, but why do I get the feeling you’ve got an individual in mind?”
One of Con’s shoulders lifted in a shrug, his black eyes revealing nothing. “I asked for your opinion.”
“I doona have one.” He turned back to the table and oiled the shears.
Con leisurely walked around the room as silence grew. Rhys’s side burned where his wound had been, causing him to grit his teeth. However, he refused to allow Con to know anything was wrong. He didn’t want anyone worrying over him, and if Con thought something was amiss, he was just as likely to try to keep Rhys confined while he figured out what was wrong as to let Rhys discover it on his own.
One could never determine which way Con’s decision would fall.
“You never told me what you think of Shara,” Con said.