“Now,” I say, turning to the delicate queen behind me. “What happened?”
The head sighs before answering for her. “Eero betrayed us.”
“That much was obvious. I meant, how did one minor king get one over on all four of her Guard and the Goddess incarnate?”
Rose swallows. “He had it all planned. It was a trap, and I did nothing to stop it.” Moisture is gathering in the corners of her eyes again, and it makes me want to rage.
“You’re upsetting her,” Drystan snarls.
“Let me guess,” I cut in. “You knew something was up, and you told her everything was fine?”
How much of her current state is his fault?
He must’ve suspected something. The púca, the wolf, and Rose’s brother were all missing when Bram finally agreed to meet Prae and me—was that really just this morning?
“She was worried enough, and I had it under control.”
So his fucking arrogance is the reason we’re in this mess. Why am I not surprised?
“Oh yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”
“That’s it. Silence.” Prae snags the strange loose-weave bag that the head is hanging in and hooks it onto her own saddle, effectively ending the argument. “Ancestors’ bollocks. I shouldn’t have to separate you two like naughty children when your mate is in danger.”
Rose shoots my cousin a thankful look, but her hands leave my waist, killing the comforting buzz between us. I roll my eyes as I realise the reason why; our new position has given the head a view of her clinging to me, and his amber eyes are narrowed in jealousy. Rose is only separating us because she’s noticed.
I catch her hands before she ends up falling to the ground in an effort to appease his delicate feelings.
“Don’t worry, little queen. I have no plans to make you walk this time,” I murmur, deliberately pretending to misunderstand her hesitance. “I’ll be on my best behaviour. Promise.”
My gut is screaming at me that this is the only chance I’ve got. I refuse to fuck it up.
Two
Rhoswyn
We ride for most of the day. The Fomorians are eerily silent as they navigate through the hills, then double back, heading for the coast. It gives me plenty of time to sink into my own dark thoughts, and perhaps my guides are aware of that, because they continuously pop up just as I’m about to lose control, distracting me.
“Your Fomorian is laying a false trail,” Maeve explains, when my confusion shows on my face. “Smart.”
“You’re healing nicely,” Titania adds, her hands fluttering over my aching wrists.
How can I tell her that I wish I wasn’t?
Lore’s hat feels worryingly loose on my head. I keep discretely opening the cut on my hand and tugging at the fabric, trying to ‘feed’ it, but the wound is growing smaller and smaller. It needs more.Heneeds more.
Eero snapped his neck. Normally I’d send energy through the bond, but the stubborn males aren’t taking it. That means I need blood.
Short of stabbing Caed—which I’m sure Drystan would love—I don’t see how I’ll get my hands on enough of it.
The sun is well and truly set by the time Caed pulls Blizzard to a halt. My muscles ache, my head is pounding, and grief sits in my throat like a roiling ball of acid. Despite all that, I’ve been lulled into a doze by the rocking motion and the false sense of security that comes from my body recognising the closeness of one of my Guard.
“Come on,” Caed murmurs, shaking me gently awake. “We’re here.”
‘Here’ turns out to be an old fishing shack by the sea. I can see the silhouette of Siabetha glimmering across the waves, but there’s nothing within shouting distance. Even if there was, the crash of the ocean drowns all other noises out.
How did the Fomorians find this place?
I slip from the saddle with a groan, the muscles of my back protesting. I can’t even feel my wings right now, and my guides hover around me like they know exactly how close I am to just falling on the sand.
