Calder had been right about the smell in the storage room. I knew it the moment Raudrich opened the secret passageway in Nicol’s room and we stepped into the dimly lit stairwell. It hadn’t been the smell of rotten food. It was the smell of very angry faerie.

Lit candles lined the steps downward, but they cast an otherworldly green glow that should’ve been impossible through normal fire.

“Best ye breathe it in, lass. Ye will grow accustomed to it sooner that way. While I know ’tis foul, it willna harm ye.”

I could scarcely bring my feet to move. Terror gripped at my every limb. I couldn’t see her, and despite the fact that she was no longer laughing, I could feel her hatred in every nerve ending in my body. I grabbed at Raudrich as he stepped away and down one step.

“Wait. Raudrich, I don’t think this is a good idea. She doesn’t like women here, right? That’s what Calder told Harry when he invited Marcus and me inside. Won’t her seeing me make her even angrier?”

Raudrich’s gaze was sympathetic as he turned toward me, but I could tell by the firm set of his feet that he had no intention of returning to Nicol’s room.

“I should’ve been honest with ye, lass. I doona only wish to bring ye down here so ye might believe me. There is another reason, as well.”

“Which is?”

He leaned in to whisper into my ear so quietly, even I had to strain to hear him.

“There is a reason Machara doesna wish for another woman to enter Nicol’s home. Even in her anger, even in her rage, she pines for him still. She knows he can no longer touch Freya, no longer hold her and make love to her, so Freya is no longer a threat to her. But another woman, one that is still alive, just might be. If we can convince Machara that ye are not Nicol’s and never shall be, perhaps we can prevent her from trying to harm ye while ye are here.”

Even as frightened as I was, it hadn’t occurred to me that she could actually cause me any real harm.

“Can she do that? Doesn’t your magic keep her from doing harm to anyone?”

He took a deep breath. It did nothing to ease my worry.

“Until this morning, I would’ve said no. I would’ve been certain that she couldna do anything from her cell, but everything is different now that The Eight is no longer complete.” He hesitated and looked regretful. “Lass, Maddock told me what happened today with Calder. While I’ll make no excuses for what he said, he was right that the odor ye smelled was not from food.”

I interrupted him. I didn’t want to think on that moment a second longer.

“I know. The smell down here is the same.”

He nodded. “Aye, and ’tis the first time such an incident has occurred. It means that her power has strengthened, and there is no way for us to know just how much.”

I suddenly felt very willing to go along with whatever Raudrich needed me to do. I had no desire to be the target of an evil faerie’s ill will.

“So how do we convince her that I have no interest in Nicol?”

He smiled. By the glint in his eye, I knew what he would say even before he said it.

“By convincing her ye belong to another.”

---

It was a rotten thing to put the lass through, but it truly was the only thing he could think of to keep her safe, and he was determined to do anything to do just that.

“Stay behind me, lass.”

He knew it was an unnecessary directive. Laurel was plastered against him, and he knew she was doing everything she could to keep from shaking all over.

He’d not seen Machara in years, but the moment he lay eyes on her, all his hatred for her came rushing back.

She slinked toward the front of her cell, her silver hair dragging on the floor behind her, her long nails drumming against the rail as she smiled at him.

“Yer absence was good for me, Raudrich. ’Tis been more than a decade since I have felt this strong.”

“Enjoy yer strength while ye can, Machara, for it willna last long. Timothy’s body was weak for years before he died. The next druid will be stronger and with it, so will his magic.”

She laughed, and the sound of it caused the hairs on his arms to rise.

“We shall see. Let me see the bitch behind ye, Raudrich. Let me see the whore that has come to try and seduce Nicol.”

He’d known Machara would try to rile him up. He couldn’t allow himself to give in to the anger he felt at hearing Laurel referred to in such a way. He needed his composure to keep his powers in check. It was even more important, with Laurel down here, that he not allow Machara to weaken him through rage.

“She is no threat to yer love for him, Machara. ’Tis why I thought ye should meet her.”

Stepping away from the bars of her cell, Raudrich watched as Machara crossed her arms.

Carefully, he stepped away to clear the path between Laurel and Machara. He’d expected Laurel to hesitate, but she did no such thing. The strength in her steps shocked him. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t shake. She stepped up beside him, looked straight into Machara’s eyes, and spoke. “I’m Laurel. I wish I could say that it’s nice to meet you.”

Machara gave one short chuckle as her sinister smile grew even wider.

“Ah, I see Raudrich has already tried to poison ye against me. If only we lassies could have spoken first, I doubt ye would have such an ill opinion of me. These men have never been able to understand me, but ye, I think could, if given the chance.”

Raudrich could’ve laughed at the blasé expression on Laurel’s face as she paused and pursed her lips. She cocked her head to the side in contemplation, but she knew better than to do anything that might anger Machara.

“I doubt that very much.”

“So, tell me, whore, why are ye here? Do ye mean to take my Nicol from me?”

Raudrich watched the exchange with great anticipation. Everything was up to Laurel. How she decided to speak, what she decided to do next, would determine whether or not she was safe inside this castle.

“No. I may not like you, but I am not that sort of woman.

Raudrich watched as Machara’s expression softened just the littlest bit, and hope rose within him.

“Who does yer heart belong to then? If it is still yer own, then ye are a threat, for a heart untethered is bound to fall for my Nicol.”

Machara was crazy, but Raudrich’s heart pounded in his chest as he awaited Laurel’s answer. He hoped Laurel understood just how important it was that she give Machara a convincing answer. He hoped the lass was capable of being a better liar now than she had been this morning when trying to convince him that they’d not touched in his bed last night.

Laurel reached for him. Raudrich let out an uneasy breath as he stepped toward her and she wrapped her arm around his waist.

“My heart belongs to Raudrich, Machara. I give you my word as one woman in love to another. I shall never lay a hand on Nicol. My heart is already taken and always shall be.”

If he wasn’t so worried for Machara’s reaction, Raudrich would’ve swooned at her words. It was convincing even to him.

Machara stayed silent for a long moment as she looked back and forth between them. As she did so, Laurel leaned into him even more, pressing her head into him as her hand came up to gently rub his chest.

When Machara did speak, there was humor in her tone.

“Kiss him, lass. Ye can always tell by the way someone kisses another what precisely is in her heart. Convince me that ye love him. If ye doona succeed, I suggest ye start fearing for yer life. For bound by magic or not, I have ways of ensuring that ye willna be long for this world. Kiss him like yer life depends on it, because trust me, young whore, it does.”

Laurel’s eyes pleaded with him to cooperate as she turned and reached up toward him. When her lips touched his, he crushed her against him, and together they danced for the damned faerie’s pleasure and while he couldn’t speak for Laurel, most assuredly his own, as well.