Part III

Elide's eyes stung in the wind as Nerene plummeted down. Asterin whooped with mad joy, Elide bit the inside of her cheek to keep the contents of her last meal down. She was lucky to have even had one. Manon had made absolutely certain Elide knew how displeased she was at losing both her and Asterin.

"Twelve isn't thirteen," she'd snarled at Elide. "We won't fly as strong."

"You'll fly just fine," Asterin threw over her shoulder as she finished cinching Nerene's saddle. "We've practiced all the way down to a coven of four. Twelve will fly the same as it ever has."

"It's still not thirteen."

"I didn't ask to take your second," Elide replied terse. "I didn't ask for anyone."

"And I volunteered because you can spare me," Asterin replied. "I trust Sorrel with your life. Which is more than I can say about anyone else in existence. Besides, you said you understood my reasoning."

"That does not mean I'm pleased," the former Blackbeak heir muttered acidicly.

Elide's fingers were white-knuckled as she gripped Nerene's saddle. She had questioned Asterin's reasoning for making her ride in front. She rode just fine behind Manon and their leader took no easy rides. But Asterin enjoyed taunting death. It was fun for her.
Elide was only too happy now to be latched onto the saddle like a wild cat and secured between Asterin's iron-strong arms. That is, when Asterin didn't have her arms thrown back, gold hair in a long stream behind her, cackling with terror saturated euphoria. Elide was beginning to wonder if Asterin enjoyed being terrified.

They had been flying for five hours straight, it was nearly dawn, and Asterin still whooped everytime Nerene nose-dived which, of course, only encouraged the beast.

"It actually goes faster!" Asterin had yelled over the wind when Elide had bellowed Nerene's madness was wasting precious time. "She's cutting time, not adding it! She's letting the fall-force do half of her work force her!"

Elide grit her teeth and bore it, clinging to Nerene, as Asterin put it, like death to a mortal.

It would be worth it if they got to the other continent in time.

If everything went according to plan, Asterin expected to have them to the coast by nightfall where they would rest before taking off at dawn.

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Gavriel had no idea what kind of pain Lorcan had been in this whole time. He thought he did. He had imagined something unbearable when he saw how the demi-fae collapsed after each day of travel, but he had no idea.

As soon as the bond set, their magic melded and their minds touched for the first time Gavriel was filled with an all-consuming protective rage.

If he ever had the opportunity, he would slaughter Maeve for this. He would slaughter her.

Lorcan's eyes were wide and his expression was frozen. Gavriel grit his teeth to swallow his rage and shifted on his heels ever so slightly. His carranam flinched.

There was so much about Lorcan that was unknown to Gavriel, even after these centuries. He had always known the demi-fae would be cautious in the bond, should he ever take it, but he didn't expect this frantic struggle against panic he could feel building in the other male. Although his expression was impressively stoic, that's what this was that Gavriel could feel Lorcan grappling through the bond: terror.

This was probably the most trust Lorcan had ever shown anyone in his entire life.

Part of Gavriel loathed that he'd blackmailed the demi-fae into taking the bond. Despite its necessity.

Lorcan, Gavriel spoke through the bond, through the pulsing power and whirlwind of pain.

Brother, Gavriel reached for his carranam and cradelled the back of his head, bringing their brows to meet. Lorcan was stiff as a board as Gavriel promised, Never will I use this to bring you harm. Never. Please trust me.

Lorcan relaxed only minisculely. It would take him a long time to show any more trust than he had in just taking the bond. That, in itself, was monumental.

Take some, Gavriel pushed warm gold magic into the dark hurricane of Lorcan's own power. Lorcan's magic recoiled like it had been burned.

No, I'll take too much. Lorcan's inner voice was so clear. So much more honest than his external one.

No, you won't. This is yours now too, Gavriel insisted, urging his magic to heal his carranam from the inside out. My magic is yours.

Lorcan grit his teeth and smashed his eyes shut as Gavriel's magic naturally fought against the valg-like infection. It had seeped through the webs of his power, leeching his strength from him, destroying him and feeding on the pain it caused him.

Lorcan had been right. Maeve had fully intended for this to be fatal.

I'll kill her for this, every instinct in Gavriel's body snarled. I'll kill her for infecting my carranam. I'll kill her for harming what is mine.

You're angrier in your mind, Lorcan commented. Gavriel looked up to find the Commander watching him with hard, onyx eyes. But what was happening inside Lorcan was so different from what he allowed to shine through his eyes. He was surprised and delighted and frightened by Gavriel's anger. Tentatively Lorcan's power began to explore Gavriel's in return.

You're more timid in yours, Gavriel smiled.

A pair of dark eyes narrowed defensively.

I won't use this bond against you, Gavriel reminded him. You are safe with me.

Safe… the word was forein in Lorcan's mind. He didn't believe it.

Take more, Gavriel's power pooled through Lorcan's wound; not enough to heal it, Lorcan was right, but enough to push it back for now. Keep death at bay.

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Lorcan and Gavriel had been quiet for nearly half of the morning now and Rowan was on the brink of going mad. He could tell the healing was taxing Gavriel, but he could also tell it was working.

Gavriel had helped Lorcan sit up this morning. That's how bad it was. After fainting last night, Lorcan had remained unconscious all night long. Gavriel had woken him in the morning and the wounded male had struggled but ultimately been unable to even sit up. Gavriel practically picked him up and propped his back against a nearby tree to take the bond.

And still Rowan knew in his heart he would not hesitate in his course of action to leave him, quite literally, to the wolves.

The two males were tense as they took the bond, Lorcan out of reservation of giving anyone- even Gavriel- that kind of access to him, and Gavriel out of sheer fae instinct. Earlier, Rowan had tried to shake them out of their trance to ask them how it had worked. Gavriel had snarled savagely at Rowan like he'd never seen him in his entire life and gripped his carranam protectively. Every decent survival instinct Rowan had screamed at him to back away slowly and stay a good distance away until he was given permission to do otherwise.

It had been hours.

When they finally broke out of their trance, Lorcan looked halfway recovered and Gavriel looked like he had the worst hangover in fae history.

"Stop," Lorcan was the one that broke the trance. "Gavriel, stop. You're giving too much." the darker male shook his head as though to clear it.

"No, you need more," Gavriel replied absently.

"Gavriel, stop!" Lorcan grabbed his carranam by the shoulders and shook him; gently at first and then harder. "Snap out of it!"

Gavriel blinked and gave a start.

"Stop," Lorcan repeated. "You promised not to give too much."

"But-"

"STOP," Lorcan gave him another non-too-gentle rattle and the healer finally withdrew his hand from where it had been pressed to Lorcan's wound. Lorcan guided his carranam to sit down next to him and Gavriel blinked a few times, still dazed.

"How long were we gone?" Lorcan asked.

"All morning," Rowan bit impatiently. "Are you both alright?"

"Gavriel?" Lorcan elbowed the Lion who finally seemed to have regained his bearings. The gold-eyed male shrugged. "Yeah, we're alright." Lorcan translated.

"So," Rowan finally felt himself relaxing ever-so-slightly. "You have known you were carranam for how long?"

"A century and a half?" Lorcan guessed.

"Two," Gavriel corrected. "Two centuries."

Lorcan shrugged. "A while."

Rowan shook his head, marvelling at the two secret keepers before him. Not only had Gavriel managed to hide Miera from his knowledge, and Lorcan hidden his feelings about the Cadre, they had been carranam for two centuries without giving anyone so much as a hint. Suddenly a dark realization bloomed across Rowan's thoughts.

"It's a good thing Maeve didn't suspect you." She would have had them both flogged within an inch of their last breath for withholding that kind of information from her, and forced them to bond. She would wield their bond against them like she used it against Fenrys and Connall.

"Told you," Lorcan muttered.

"I know!" Gavriel snapped grumpily. "I've always known that." He blinked tiredly. "Rowan I will be ready to…" he shot a pained glance at his carranam who only raised a dark brow expectantly, "leave in a few hours. I need some rest first. I should be ready to leave soon though and we won't need to stop for the night."

Rowan nodded. That would put them within reach of a few fae military outposts where they might interrogate officers to learn the whereabouts of his mate.

Soon, he found himself promising to the silent side of his own carranam bond. Soon, fireheart. I'm coming.

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