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“I needed a little time. . . .”
“Almost six months?”
“Yes,” he said.
As he approached his queen, sunlight flared from his skin. It wasn’t by choice; the sunlight inside of him burned brighter because of her. The king and the queen were drawn together. Attraction without love. It was the final piece of Beira’s curse. Keenan hadn’t realized how much he wanted an all-consuming love until the past year. He’d spent so long looking for her that he’d assumed they’d be perfect together. She was his missing partner; how could it be otherwise?
“Did you get my message that quickly? If I had known that’s all it took, I’d have sent word of the court’s predicament sooner.” Aislinn didn’t look away from him as she asked, and Keenan saw in her the queen he’d sought for so many centuries. She was bold where she had once been tentative, aggressive with him in defense of their court as she’d once been for her then-mortal beloved.
“I received no message,” he admitted. “I came back because it was time.”
The gleam in her eyes flashed brightly. “At least there’s that.”
“I . . .” he started, but he had no words, not when she looked at him with a tangle of hope and anger. He wasn’t sure if he should ask what message she’d sent or not, but as sunlight shimmered around her in a light show to rival the aurora borealis, he decided the question could wait.
She folded her arms across her chest. “You left me . . . our court. Do you have any idea what’s been going on?”
“I do. I had reports, and I knew”—he sat on the sofa beside her—“I was able to stay away because the court was safe in your hands.”
“You abandoned your court to do who knows w—” She turned to face him and gasped.
She reached out with one hand. She slid her thumb across his cheek. “You’re injured.”
Keenan pulled her hand away from his face.
“It’ll wait. Come with me,” he said softly, not a command—
because she is the queen—but something more than a request.
He stood, but she remained where she was.
“Please?” he urged.
After a glance at the faeries who waited outside the room, Aislinn stood. Keenan put his arm around her waist, and happy murmurs filtered through the loft. With Aislinn at his side, Keenan walked down the hallway to his rooms.
At the door, a faery bowed.
Keenan nodded and led Aislinn across the threshold.
Once the door had closed behind them, she pulled away. “That wasn’t fair.”
He winced as she elbowed him in his injured side. “Holding you, or letting them believe I intend to return to where we were when I left?”
“Either.”
“Aislinn?” He walked toward her. “I need you.”
He stripped off his shirt.
She stared at him, and he felt the temperature in the room spike.
“Keenan? What are you . . . I can’t . . .”
“I need your help.” He tossed the shirt against the wall and lifted his arm. By peeling the shirt off, he’d reopened the gashes from Bananach’s talons. Blood trickled over his side.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were this badly injured?” Aislinn was beside him in an instant. Without thinking of the consequences, she laid one hand on his stomach and her other on his arm. “Who did this?”
“Bananach.” He let her push his arm out of the way so that she could see the ugly wounds. “She and three others cornered me.”
