Falcyn growled deep in his throat. “Varian, you worthless bastard! Get in here. Shadow’s down.”
The humor died instantly while the man shut the door, then lowered his hood. Medea arched a brow at his unexpected handsomeness as he brushed past her with a predator’s lope to check on their fallen friend. Though, being Adoni, his degree of superior gorgeousness shouldn’t have surprised her. Yet even by their stellar standards, the black-haired fey was exceptionally formed. With pointed ears and sharp, perfect features, he was absolutely exquisite—the pinnacle of masculine perfection.
“What happened?” Varian knelt by Shadow’s side.
Falcyn joined him there to help tend Shadow. “We were cornered by dire wolves.”
“Dire wolves or gwyllgi?”
“Gwyllgi,” Blaise answered, making her wonder how the mandrake knew the difference.
Varian cursed. “Was the Crom with them?”
Blaise nodded without further comment.
Growling low in his throat in a manner eerily similar to the one Falcyn had done on his arrival, Varian used his powers to strip Shadow’s leather armor away. Then he lifted the linen shirt to inspect the damage.
Medea cringed at the sight of the festering wound and all the other deep, ridged scars that marred Shadow’s cut and ripped abdomen and chest. That armor had hidden quite an impeccable body. For a creature who inhabited a nether realm, he spent a great deal of time in the gym with weights.
Or he worked out by bench-pressing gargoyles.
Again, Varian cursed—this time, more lewdly. “Damn, Shade. Can’t you ever do anything halfway once in a while? No, you don’t get a little wounded. You’ve got to get practically gutted.”
Falcyn sat back on his heels. “If you hold him, I can heal him.”
Varian stopped Falcyn. “If you’re planning to tap what I think you are, don’t. Morgen will feel it and jump all over you the minute you try.” He worked to stop Shadow’s bleeding. “I’ve got this. You have a mission to complete. But I should warn you…”
Falcyn’s gut knotted. He knew the Grail Knight’s words before Varian spoke them.
“Narishka has Maddor, and he’s furious.” Varian’s gaze went to Blaise before he met Falcyn’s stare. “I also know what I doubt you want made public.”
Yeah, that gave Falcyn’s ulcer a baby and a friend to chew on.
Varian sighed heavily. “I didn’t want you to walk in there until you had all the facts. Narishka told Maddor everything about his past and parents. And I do mean e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g.” He pulled the key from Shadow and handed it to Falcyn. “There’s a stairwell at the end of the hallway that will take you down to the catacombs. Be careful. They’re expecting all of you to come here and be stupid.”
“Then far be it from us to disappoint them.” Falcyn saluted him with the key. “Thanks.” He rose as dread continued to gnaw his confidence and erode his sense of purpose. As Varian had noted, this was a fool’s errand. Yet one look at Blaise and he knew they had to see it through. “Lead the way.”
Hesitating, Blaise took Brogan’s hand. “Is Shadow going to be all right?”
She cocked her head as a faraway look darkened her eyes. “Aye. I don’t see his death nearby. And it’s definitely not imminent.”
Falcyn’s hackles raised at a note she had buried in her voice. “What aren’t you saying?”
She pressed her hand to her forehead. “I see death all around me, all the time. In everyone. In everything. To me, the world isn’t a beautiful place. It’s a graveyard, filled with walking corpses. So when I’m asked to look more closely at the ghouls who haunt me, it feels like it steals a part of my soul.” She drew a ragged breath. “That was all I was saying.”
Medea moved to stand by her side. “I’m sorry, Brogan. Sadly, there are too many things in life that feel that way.”
Brogan reached out and touched Medea’s hand. With a sad smile, she turned it over and pointed to the lines on the side of Medea’s palm. “Did you know you’ll have four more children to love and hold?”
Medea’s features turned as pale as her hair. “Pardon?”
Brogan opened Medea’s palm and, using her fingernail, traced the lines that bisected her skin. “Your heart is broken, but healing. And while you’ll never forget what’s happened to you, you can and will move past it. Brave in all things. That’s you, Medea. Your scars don’t define you. They are merely silent testimony to your resilience and inner beauty.”
Medea squeezed her hand. “I’m not the one who’s beautiful, Brogan. You are. I don’t understand how you can be so gentle after everything you’ve gone through. I envy you that. You’re like a fine steak that’s been tenderized while I’m steel that’s been tempered.”
A sad smile tugged at the edges of her lips. “Don’t. I would give anything to be the fighter you are, and to have the same sharp edge to me. But alas, I’ve been worn down too far by the blows I’ve taken. There’s nothing left anymore except a memory of the girl I once was and the woman I used to hope I’d be.” She took a ragged breath. “That is the bite, isn’t it? That day when we wake to remember what our future once was and can never be.”
Medea tightened her hand against Brogan’s. “Never, ever beat yourself up, love. Not when there are so many others willing to do it for you. See the gentle beauty that you are. Not the sharpened dagger I’ve become.”
Falcyn moved so that he could lean down to whisper in Medea’s ear. “And I think you’re perfect just the way you are. There is nothing about you I’d change.”
Those words melted her. Worse, they brought tears to her eyes, as they were the sweetest thing anyone had said to her in so long, she couldn’t remember ever hearing anything more precious.
So used to anger as her constant state of being, she wasn’t sure how to deal with these tender emotions Falcyn touched so effortlessly.
Damn him for it!
And damn her heart for letting him in against her wishes.
She didn’t want to care about anyone. But when he looked at her like that … When he spoke in that rich, deep timbre that sent shivers over her …
How could she resist him?
You can’t lose someone you love again.
The thought of having more children and a spouse …
That was what gave a grown Daimon nightmares. At least in her case. Medea could imagine no worse horror. No worse tragedy than to spend every day in terror of losing it all again.
No. She wouldn’t do it.
She couldn’t do it.
Falcyn saw the panic flaring in Medea’s eyes a heartbeat before she turned on her heels and ran from the room like the hounds of hell were nipping at her soul.
“What did you say to her?” Urian asked.
“Nothing that should warrant that reaction.”
Blaise scoffed. “I don’t know. Frightening women and small children, and making grown men piss their pants, is kind of your specialty, brother.”