Chapter 32

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The fire quelled down into low-lying embers and the dark shadows dispersed around us. Some of the trees held lingering flames, which Ronan rose to extinguish with a wave of his hand. He turned, inspecting our camp.

His eyes lifted to mine. "We need to go."

"Will they be back?" I asked, gazing at the trees. I knelt on the ground, breathing heavily. Though I had managed to help Ronan fend off the sluagh and her shadows, I wasn't sure I could do it again soon.

"Maybe, maybe not. It is best we don't linger. We need to get away from te Dead Forest." He lifted up his bag, which was still on fire, patting out the lingering flames. He dropped it with a frown. All our provisions were likely destroyed. Even our bed rolls were nothing but shriveled ash at our feet. I had poked around, but the maps I had found back in Ashthorne Castle were gone, their pages burnt along with everything else.

Nea whinnied, grabbing my attention. He stamped his feet, just as eager as us to get out of there. Of course, he hadn't been burnt in the fire. The damn horse was indestructible. As if sensing my thoughts, Nea lifted his lips, showing me his sharp teeth.

I straightened, ignoring how the world spun, and moved to help Ronan try to salvage what we could. The water skins had survived, but not much else aside froma few of Ronan's weapons. He picked up his knife, which had been on the ground where the sluagh had discarded it. It was hot from the fire, but that didn't bother Ronan. He inspected it, the sluagh's thick blood sizzling on its heated blade. After a moment, he strapped it to his belt with the other weapons.

"You did well," he said, coming over to tend to Nea, readying his saddle, which was only slightly singed. Ronan strapped the few things we still had onto him.

I shook my head. "I still needed you. I couldn't take them on alone."

Ronan shot me a look from his peripheral. "Well of course, no one can take on a whole horde of sluagh alone. Not even me. That would be like one person taking on an entire army. Foolish."

I frowned. It was true that he hadn't been fairing all that well either.

But together... My brows furrowed, a chill lingering from the look I'd seen on Ronan's face as the fire had surrounded us.

I glanced at him. He was stroking Nea, his expression neutral.

"Why couldn't you just use your little fireballs to light the whole place up?"

Ronan's furrowed his brows, then nodded at me. I was still panting heavily, squinting my eyes as I tried to focus.

"Using Craft without a conduit requires a lot of energy. It is one thing to light a room, but in battle, it is unwise to waste it." He tapped his sheathed sword. "I had already been battling them from where they had led me, and I didn't have enough Craft left to use my flames without my blade. It takes years of training to master its control. What you managed without all of that is quite impressive."

I nodded, looking at his sword. It was unlit where it was strapped to his side. Even Eirian had used weapons back in the Hunt. My exhaustion made more sense now. However, it still didn't feel impressive. I would not have survived much longer if Ronan had not been so close.

Ronan finished patting down Nea, and turned, stretching a hand out to me. Feeling weary, I took it and let him help me up onto the horse.

He pulled himself up behind me, his familiar warmth settling at my back. My mind swam with distant memories of our almost kiss, but I batted them away. Now was not the time.

I looked over the still-smoking trees. The trees around us were scorched, and a fire would have blazed through the whole forest if Ronan hadn't put it out afterward. All that remained of the sluagh was ash and a lingering putrid stench.

Ea started maneuvering us through the trees. The dark shapes moved rapidly past us as we kicked up into a quick canter.

"Did you know? That I could do that?"

Ronan drew closer so we could speak over the wind whipping by us while Nea did his best to put as much distance as he could between us and the deadly forest. I could feel myself sagging on the saddle and struggled to keep myself upright as our pace quickened. All the energy I had felt earlier was gone.

"I had a suspicion," he admitted bluntly.

I pressed my lips together. Perhaps I hadn't been asking him the right questions. It was not matter of if he wanted me, but why.

"I am just a human," I said. "How would you have any idea I could do that?"

Ronan didn't reply right away. He shifted, urging Nea even faster. The horse willingly obliged. The trees blurred around us, and Ronan pressed a hand down on my head, forcing me to duck just a moment before a long branch whipped by overhead.

"The humans taken for the Hunt usually have fae blood," he said with a resigned sigh once we returned to an upright position. "That's what the test was for. To make sure you could withstand our world. Though we need humans to reproduce, we only need someone mostly mortal. A human with no fae blood would never survive long enough to bear us any heirs, nor be able to cross into Faerie."

"So... I have fae blood?" I shook my head, laughing. "That's not possible." I thought of my mother and father. There was no way. They were both so boring and...normal.

"Air fae, so it seems." Ronan's mouth tugged to the side as he considered me. "Fae blood is usually stronger in females, since faerie woman are often more gifted with Craft. But I can't tell you how you acquired it. I just know you have some. I suspected Eirian wanted you for a certain reason... though I wasn't certain this was it. But now that I have seen you use your Craft, I know I was right."

I looked ahead, unsure. I had sensed he was hiding something, but knowing what he had suspected all along made me feel...Disappointed.

 He had wanted me for my suspected abilities, and nothing else.

"A shame we can't ask him," I said flatly.

I looked down at the cuts on my arms. It was impossible, but I couldn't deny the evidence. I would not be alive had it not been for my fae blood. It must have come from some ancestor I never knew. Perhaps that was why Gran had known so much, because a real faerie had started the tales in our family, passing them down.

"It's stronger than I anticipated, I'll admit." There was an edge of excitement to his voice. A prickle of unease spread across my skin. "You used a lot of it with no training and no conduit," he added.

I looked at him. For a moment, there was something hungry in his eyes. I wondered what "firestorm" had meant. Though the power had thrilled me at the time, now that the effect had worn off I wondered if Ronan being able to bear such power was a good thing. But then Ronan's gaze softened, and he took in my weary expression.

"It takes a toll on you, but in a few days it should be improved." He arm brushed mine,  his hold tightening around me. "I will get you somewhere you can rest."

I blinked, feeling the weight of my exhaustion. Nestled against Ronan's chest, my head rested on his shoulder, my eyes grew heavier with every passing moment. Even with my whirling thoughts, it was hard to remain conscious. Like crashing after a long night out. Only this felt different. Like I was completely drained.

"I don't know if I should—"

"Sleep," Ronan urged softly. He shifted me, so I my cheek brushed his chest. "I won't leave you alone," he murmured, his words a gentle caress. "Not again."


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