Chapter 399

Lucien thought his heart might have just about stopped, coming to a stutter in his chest when he saw Elain on her knees on the dais. He moved that way, unable to take his eyes off of his mate. The dark-haired male he recognised from the hallway stood over her, and Lucien quickened his step when that male shoved Elain forward onto her hands. Fear shot through him, followed by a simmering rage. That son of a whoring bitch was going to regret laying his hands on her. Lucien would make sure of it. Who did this bastard think that he was. Who had ever met Elain and wanted to get violent? Lucien was seething.

The dark-haired faerie reached for his sword, eyes on Elain at his feet, and Lucien's heart hit his stomach. For a moment, he couldn't quite get his brain to comprehend what he was seeing and what was about to happen. Then he moved. Lucien shoved faeries out of his way, not sure if they were on his side or not. It didn't matter to him in that moment. Anything in his way was pushed aside as he just about ran for the dais. The dark-haired bastard had lifted his sword over Elain and Lucien felt his blood just about explode within him. He was still too far away to get there, too far to reach her, to shield her, to wrap himself around her and protect her.

Cold eyes met Lucien's and the dark-haired male grinned at him, sword above his head. Lucien was still several paces away from the stairs at the bottom of the dais. He could feel the despair coming off of Elain in waves, could feel her tears choking her. There was a flash in his mind, and he got several images of the younglings she had shown him before, knew exactly what she was thinking about, and then he had blasted the dark-haired bastard away from her. Flames ripped out of Lucien, closing the distance between them, and hit the faerie in the chest.

Some kind of shield had gone up around the dark-haired male, Lucien had seen the flickering of it, but that didn't matter. He was away from Elain, and the sword which had been about to end her life was on the ground several feet away. Elain sobbed, her arms seemingly giving out beneath her and she pressed her face into her hands, and Lucien had taken several steps toward her when another faerie blocked his path. Up on the dais, another male looked down at him, older than the dark-haired one, and standing just before Elain. Lucien blinked, forcing his brain to flick through his list of aristocracy. Colm. He'd met this male before. He understood then, exactly who had been behind everything that had happened.

"Get away from my mate." The words were snarled and Lucien could feel more flames licking at his wrists and forearms.

"Where is the High Lord?" Colm's voice was loud and commanding, as if he already thought he owned the place. Behind him and Elain, the dark-haired male got to his feet, swearing spectacularly.

"You've got eyes." Lucien muttered, his own eyes on his mate. He actually didn't know where in the room Helion was, but he figured that the High Lord was easily noticeable enough to find within seconds if one were to look. He took another step toward the dais, but Colm lifted a hand to stop him, and Lucien snarled again. The flames at his wrists licked higher, and he was about to throw the lot of it at Colm when the other staggered forward again, grabbing Elain and hauling her to her feet. Swallowing his rage, Lucien forced himself to remain still. "You have no business with her."

"No." The dark-haired faerie agreed, "But, you can't start a fire without a spark."

Lucien eyed his still smouldering tunic. "I can." He replied drily. Cold eyes met his again, and the dark-haired male marched Elain forward to the top of the stairs. He yanked her head back, bringing a blade to her throat.

"Any flames you think to throw at me again…" he purred, "I'll put out with her blood."