Page 64 of Resurrecting the Witch
“I SAID KADY FIRST, YA STUPID CUNT!” Rory looked unhinged in the dull light only shadowing parts of his feral face. He was shaking with rage.
The three large fae had no reaction to Rory’s demands. Their lack of attention to him was a sign of how truly under Orla’s command they were. They stood still, moving only enough to unblock the portal for two other fae to enter.
I completely froze. I truly hadn’t thought they were still alive, despite Rory’s claims. Their pupils widened in recognition, but years of training had them clamping it down immediately. I, on the other hand, was out of practice. I tried to calm my nerves from reacting to my brothers coming through the portal.
Cuglas and Daniel.
My brothers by blood.
The last of the Gallagher line.
Shite.
All the hopes I’d kept as buried in my chest as possible rose to the surface as I realized they still hadn’t escaped Orla. Regret swelled in me more than anything, but I had to focus. I had spent all those years fighting for the witches, fighting to save someone besides the fae, instead of Orla. I hadn’t trusted that Cuglas and Daniel would have joined me; I thought they might not understand my need to help others instead of killing them.
I was so wrong for that.
I should have trusted them more.
And then I died.
Leaving them with Orla for hundreds of years.
“I knew this family reunion would be truly lovely to witness.”
Apparently, the shock of seeing my brothers had me miss the vilest woman entering the cavern. I hadn’t prepared to hear her melodic voice; it made my blood chill even more than the sight of my brothers still under her command. I didn’t dare look up to her eyes because I could not let her see anything in them that would lead her to suspect our plans.
“Kady?” Rory asked, his voice breaking on her name. I put my head down as soon as Cuglas and Daniel came through trying to process my thoughts, so I hadn’t seen if Orla had Kady with her or not. “Why is she not answering me, Orla?”
Orla laughed. It was anything but humorous.
“Poor doll had some plans of her own that required more healing than her body is used to,” she said with a click of her tongue. “So impatient, this one.”
Cool fingers lifted my chin up, and I closed my eyes, trying to stifle the vomit in my throat. Orla’s fingers were boney and long and far too cold than skin had the right to be. They felt clammy compared to my Cliona’s fingers which always kept me warm and felt like the sun lived under her skin, despite the paleness of it.
“Open your eyes, precious.”
Her singsong voice did nothing to calm my nerves, but I had no choice. I opened my eyes and took in the black pits of Lady Orla’s. Her skin was a few shades warmer than Cliona’s, but still pale enough I could see the veins shooting up her chest, which was overly exposed in her gold dress. Her blond hair was braided on the top to showcase the beauty in her face, while the rest was left in loose waves that cascaded well past her arse. She wore only light cosmetics to accentuate her angular features, and she’d gotten a nose hoop ring since I’d last seen her.
“There he is,” Orla said as her eyes roamed my body, taking too long a gander at the upper part of my shirt that exposed the muscles in my chest.
Cliona growled next to me, and it took everything in me not to chuckle at my mate.
Unfortunately for us both, Orla noticed and dropped her finger from my chin to look at my mate next to me.
“Oh. And is this the Ó Cuinn witch I’ve heard so much about?”
I didn’t answer, simply looked straight ahead, trying to calm myself. That’s when I saw the small body held in another warrior’s arms. She looked too small and frail to be a grown woman, but the bright shade of red hair matched Rory’s completely. The limbs that were visible were far too thin, her bones poking out at odd angles. There was also faint bruising around her ankles that peeked through the ends of her dress.
I tore my gaze away.
We would get Kady out of here and away from Orla if it’s the last thing we did today. She would be safe here. I felt my zombie nature taking over, the black surely bleeding out from my skin due to Orla’s proximity.
If she dared to touch Cliona, I might—
Orla grasped Cliona’s chin in the next breath and lifted her gaze forward as she had mine.
Unlike me, my mate was vocal about her touch. “Don’t touch me, you dusty old bitch,” Cliona said. Her attitude was part of the plan, but I sensed it wasn’t hard for her to act disdainfully. She knew what this woman had done to witches, how Orla had used me to hunt them until I betrayed her to help her grandparents.
