“You… did it,” he muttered behind me.
I panted in exhaustion as I raised my head to see what my magic had accomplished. And even I was astonished by what looked like a giant cherry tree in perfect bloom. The tent behind me was dead silent as we stared up at the ethereal boughs from which pink petals fell so serenely. They already covered the lush grass and heather that had spread across the earthen floor of the tent, and the scent of summer rain filled the air.
Finally, my attention turned to the mossy trunk of the tree where a gleaming crack had split open. The portal was the vibrant purple colour of the Tithriall itself, which was exposed and bleeding into the air in smoky wisps.
Ciaran moved forward cautiously, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled Summer’s vibrant scent until it made him cough and grimace.
“I have never seen anything like this,” he admitted as he reached for the purple vapours wafting through the air. “I have never touched the essence of the Tithriall from the physical world before.”
He was right. Even in places where the ley lines came close to the surface of the earth, there was a sort of barrier that prevented the Tithriall from bleeding into the air.
“The tree might not last long in the cold, so we need to move quickly,” I told Ciaran.
He spent another second marvelling at my work before he gave a quick nod and then turned away from the portal. He faced the awed Autumn fey who had gathered behind us to await direction.
“Scouts will go first. Secure the area and report back to me when it is safe for the refugees,” he ordered them.
I stood back as a few fey moved toward the tree trunk, including Aurel who still eyed me suspiciously.
“Little dryad,” rumbled a deep voice.
I spun and tipped my head back to look up at the orc that Sage had introduced me to. His olive-green skin tone appeared almost blue in the purple glimmer of the portal. He still had his longbow and broadsword across his back with a pike in his hand. His long braid had painted bone beads threaded through the plaits, and his tall ears were pierced with gold rings with wooden spacers in his lobes. The tusks peeking over his upper lip from his bottom jaw had been blunted over the centuries.
“Hello,” I replied cautiously, recalling how forward he had been with his appreciation of me before.
“You know Uthar?” Ciaran asked, alerting me to his presence right behind me, and I felt instant relief. I never would have expected to be grateful for Ciaran’s company, but in spite of our personal issues, I did trust his word that riders presented a unified front with the other soldiers.
“I met him with Sage,” I answered without taking my eyes off the orc male. He was eying me like he might be toying with the idea of tossing me over his shoulder.
“Then I’m sure Sage told Uthar that you are his mate,” Ciaran guessed with a tone of warning that was obvious to me, but I knew orcs were endlessly stubborn.
“Mate?” Uthar repeated with intrigue, finally tearing his gaze from me to look at Ciaran.
“Hisanam,” confirmed Ciaran with raised brows.
“Ah, you aes sídhe are so particular about those things. But Sage went on assignment without her,” Uthar noted, his eyesreturning to me with a contemplative interest that made my skin prickle with familiar discomfort.
“He did not choose that!” I snarled before I could rein in the reaction to his callous insinuation. And just as I had known it probably would, my defensive tone and attitude only seemed to further intrigue the orc.
“Be that as it may—” Uthar chuckled, reaching one massive hand toward my face as if to grip my chin.
And I snapped. I’d been repressing all the rage from losing my mate just so I could stand being among other fey and do what was needed. Now it was set ablaze again by an all-too-familiar disregard for my bodily autonomy.
Before I knew it, my fingers had clamped down on his wrist as I pushed a bolt of pure adrenaline into his veins. The force of it was enough to bring the massive warrior to his knees and face-to-face with me with his other hand clenched over his straining heart. A choked grunt of pain escaped him as I leaned into his face with bared canines.
“Attempt to touch me again, and I will be sure your heart explodes next time. Do you understand?” I snarled, still feeding him a current of energy, which would feel like his heart was beating out of his chest.
He nodded quickly in acknowledgement, so I released him and turned toward the orcs who had rushed forward to watch the altercation. Both males and females formed an intimidating wall of muscle and weapons around me and Ciaran, but they would not interfere. Not when such exhibitions of dominance were part of their culture.
“I am Princess Ornella Lann a’Chridhe of the Ruadhán in Sumarra,” I declared with my chin raised. It was the first time in centuries I had publicly claimed the heritage I reviled so deeply. I was not expecting it to make me emotional, but I had to pause for a breath. “I have taken the place of Aodhan, my brother, in the Wild Hunt. Sage DorTìodhlac is myanam, and I will not tolerate the attention of any other. Would anyone else like to testmy patience on the matter today?” I called to the crowd that had grown to include other Autumn fey as well.
The orcs glanced at Uthar who still knelt behind me as he tried to catch his breath and then began lowering their eyes in suitable deference.
Satisfied with their display, I turned to look at Ciaran with the expectation that he would be disappointed in my theatrics. Especially since this was the way I humiliated him in front of all the Aes Suri. But I was surprised to instead find him fighting a smile before he gave a nod.
“Alright, everyone! Back to work!” he called.
I waited for the others to return to whatever they had been doing, including Uthar who inclined his head to me in respect before he ambled away. Then I put my hands on my hips and narrowed suspicious eyes at Ciaran.
