Faryn thought for sure her heart would burst within her chest. The pain seared through her with rising agony. She’d thought she’d prepared herself for his belief in her betrayal, even though it was furthest from the truth, but even that had not truly prepared her for how it felt to see the anger in his eyes.

Where once affection, desire and respect had filled his gaze, now it was replaced with something more sinister, a feeling she’d hoped to never experience but in the end had some inkling was coming. It felt as though he’d taken one of his blades and thrust it through her heart.

She ran blindly as tears filled her eyes and managed with awkward shaking hands to lift her skirts enough so that she didn’t trip on their length.

“Oof!” With a thud, her flight halted against a body and strong arms held her from falling onto the ground.

Through hazy eyes, she made out a figure—an all too familiar figure.

“Daughter!” Her father’s growl cut through the racing thoughts in her mind.

She opened her mouth but no sound came out. She didn’t know whether to scream or act as though she knew nothing, and her head swam and threatened to make her faint dead away.

“What are ye doing in Galway? Where have ye been? We have been looking for ye! Lord Bréagadóir has taken to the sea fearing ye were stolen by pirates.”

He shook her like a rag doll, her head flopping back and forth, her teeth clicking together, when she did not speak to answer him.

“Do ye defy me? Have ye run away from your duty?” Spittle flew onto her face as he bellowed at her.

A crowd gathered around them, none too discreetly.

“How could ye?” The words slipped from her mouth before she could rein them in.

He narrowed his eyes at her, his grip on her arms tightening.

“Ye defy me and then dare to question me?”

She shook her head and bit her lip hard to keep from saying anything else.

“Answer me!” he bellowed again.

“Nay,” she whispered. She tried not to look around as she sensed more people coming to watch their spectacle. Good God, she prayed Wraith did not see this!

Shouting from whence Lady Faryn had fled drew Wraith’s and Loftford’s attention.

“What is this?” the Lord Chancellor asked, irritation marring his features.

Wraith didn’t wait to find out. For as much as he believed Faryn had betrayed him, he couldn’t see her come to harm—at least by anyone other than himself.

He led the way from the viscount’s receiving chamber through a series of doors until they came to a large crowd. In the center, a man held a woman by her arms as he bellowed in her face.

“Answer me!”

“Father, ye’re a murderer! How could ye be so cruel, so evil?”

The baron’s face blanched white, and even from this distance, Wraith watched Faryn’s shoulders shake on her lithe frame.

Her father growled something under his breath and then yanked her with him, clearly intending to leave the area.

“Halt!” shouted the Lord Chancellor.

The baron continued to try to drag his daughter away but several of the nosy members of the court blocked his escape.

“The Lord Chancellor has ordered ye to stay where ye are,” Wraith said, his voice deadly calm.

Slowly, Baron Claneford turned, recognition plain in his eyes as he viewed Wraith.

“Nay,” he whispered, shaking his head as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Let the lady go,” Wraith demanded. He avoided Faryn’s gaze even though he could feel her eyes penetrating his soul.

“She is not just a lady but my daughter. She ran away from home and her marriage, and I must see that she is guarded. This is no concern of yours.” Baron Claneford’s meager attempt at playing nonchalant was not lost on Wraith.

“But it is my concern. She didna run but was taken. By me. She is mine.”

If possible, Claneford’s face paled even further.

“By ye? How?”

“Let her go. Ye and I have business of our own to attend to.”

“Nay!” Claneford shouted. “Ye’re dead! Your whole family is dead! I saw to it myself!”

“I assure ye, I am here in the flesh.”

With Baron Claneford’s last comment, Wraith saw from the corner of his eye Loftford wave to his men. Several guards surrounded the baron, who was forced to release his daughter.

He shoved her away and the force of the move sent Faryn sprawling forward and knocked a couple of his guards off their steady feet. Wraith lunged to catch Faryn before she hit the floor but at the same time, the baron pulled a dagger from some part of his person. He waved his arm in an arc, the blade aimed at his daughter. Wraith changed his angle and nearly missed the downward plunge of Claneford’s dagger. Faryn fell to the floor in a pile of skirts and wriggled away from the fray. Wraith clicked his ring, flicking his hand in time to leave a gash along the baron’s arm.

The older man screeched in pain and dropped his dagger, reaching instead for his bleeding limb. The Lord Chancellor’s men took the opportunity to grab Claneford and drag him away.

Wraith stood and held out his hand to Faryn. She stared up at him, confusion in her eyes.

“Forgive me?” he asked.

She nodded silently and took his hand.

“Ye’re not your father. I know ye. I know ye for the innocent and kind-hearted woman ye are. I spoke out of anger.” He pulled her into an embrace, not caring that they had an audience. She sagged against him and the gentle shaking of her shoulders told him she was crying. He had never wanted to hurt her, nor see tears in her eyes, and yet here she was sobbing quietly against his shoulder. He leaned down, kissed her atop her head, and then whispered in her ear.

“Hush now, leannan. Dinna cry. All will be well. We shall be together just as we dreamed of.”

She looked up at him, her eyes watery, her lips red where she’d bitten them. He bent down and pressed his lips to hers, savoring her taste and her affection.

Against her lips he whispered, “I love ye, Faryn.”

Her voice cracked on a sob with her reply. “I love ye, too.”

“’Lo there.” The Lord Chancellor’s voice cut through their reverie. “Ian, cease manhandling the maiden.”

“Ian?” Faryn asked, pulling away to glance at him quizzically.

Wraith shrugged, a wicked grin curving his lips. He realized they’d never gotten around to him telling her his true name. “’Tis not so dreadful and mysterious as Wraith.”

She chuckled at this. “Nay, but suits ye all the same.”

“My lord,” he said, turning to face the Lord Chancellor, their hands gripped tightly together. “Might I have your permission to marry this fair maiden?”

Viscount Loftford’s eyes sparkled. “Ye may inquire, Lord Drohgard, and I am happy to give ye my blessing.”

“Lord Drohgard …” Wraith’s voice trailed off.

“Aye, ye have proven your innocence, and I have waited these past years for ye to return to your rightful place. However, there is one condition of my gift.”

Wraith stiffened, lowered his eyes. What could the Lord Chancellor ask? “Aye, my lord.”

Loftford lifted his chin in challenge. “Ye have pirated our shores and taken the innocent. If ye wish to fully receive a pardon, your title, your lands, ye must first retrieve the Irish men and women ye adducted.”

The Lord Chancellor’s demand would be a daunting task. But it was one Wraith was eager to complete, and with Faryn by his side. Orelia kept good records of her human booty, and once he had a hold of where each one was finally taken, he could easily begin retrieving them—which he would relish as he’d never wanted to be a party to such a thing, but his safety had required he be the deliveryman. With the help of his brethren, the Devils of the Deep would see that every man, woman and child were accounted for. ’Twas also a chance to seek vengeance on the pirate queen who’d tormented him.

“My lord, as ye wish.” He bowed before the king and when he rose addressed him once more. “A boon?”

Loftford nodded.

“Might I marry first, so my lady can accompany me on the seas?”

The viscount grinned knowingly. “Och, aye, as soon as possible.”

Wraith too broke out into a grin. Excitement coursed through his veins, for together he and Faryn would travel the world re-abducting those he’d enslaved to others and pirating pirates who would seek their fortunes on the high seas.