Page 40 of Maleen

My fingers slip into his and I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back gently and doesn’t pull away. “I’m here now,” I tell him.

“You are,” he agrees as we come across some boulders that I decide would make a good spot to sit. He focuses on the surrounds for a moment before obviously deciding they are safe and relaxing his massive frame.

My gaze follows where his went, to the magick boundary only a few feet away, and I sigh. I can’t even focus on Kill the way he deserves when I still need to figure this out. But all I see is a decaying path and abandoned houses, with zero sign of any fae who might give us a clue.

Killian leans against the boulder, his shoulder brushing against mine. “Thank you for your patience with me yesterday. I know this mate bond has been difficult for you because of me.” His voice is slow like he is tasting each word as he speaks. “I would like to try… but I need patience. I’ve never…”

I turn toward him and wait for him to find the words he’s looking for.

“There was never anyone else for me but you. I may not have had a romantic attraction to you until Phixmery, but you were always special to me. And I don’t think I can stay away from you any longer… If you want to give this a try?”

Hope blooms in my chest and butterflies erupt. “We can go as slow as you need.”

He squeezes my hand again and takes a slow, steady breath as the tension from his shoulders evaporates. “Thank you.”

“You never need to thank me for that.”

His lip twitches and his cheeks darken minimally before he clears his throat. “Any ideas on how you’re getting through that?” He raises one eyebrow to indicate the invisible barrier behind us.

“I have no idea. If my mother intended for me to one day take back the throne, then there must be a way through, right? I’ve tried pushing through it, but it didn’t work. I’ve tried using my magick but I only got the same results. There has to be something, and I feel like it’s staring me right in the face but I’m blind.”

He hums and we fall into a comfortable silence again as the birds sing their songs and the eeriness of the forest in the distance lifts with the breaking of dawn. The scene before me is familiar yet it feels strange, like looking at everything through a lens. Almost like a dreamscape but waking.

“You all said that after my mother was dea—taken, and your fathers secured the palace and made their reports of my fathers deaths, that was when everyone was removed from the city?” I ask as I get up from the boulder and move closer.

The soft steps of boots in the grass follow me, so it doesn’t surprise me when his voice comes from right behind. “According to the reports Talyn and Jesper found, yes. It went up about a day after, why?”

“Then how did she manage to get it up without her being here? Unless Craven didn’t take her right away? Sorry, my brain is all over the place. I should be figuring out how to take it down, not how it went up.”

After a second Killian clears his throat. “What about blood?”

Wait.

I spin so fast that I nearly collide against him. His strong, warm hands land on my shoulders to steady me as I tilt my head back to stare up at him. “Why blood?”

He lets me go with one hand and scratches the nape of his neck. “When Jesper and I followed you under Phixmery, I couldn’t figure out how you got the door open, and we couldn’t open it even with the words. But you fell and sliced your hand on the cave floor. Then we found out it was your blood that opened it. What if it’s the same?”

Fucking Fates. Why didn’t I think of that? My mother even mentioned blood doors to me back at Vathia. A sense of truth settles in my bones as I mull over the idea. It must be it. It has to be.

Without hesitating I pull a small dagger from Killian’s belt since I don’t have any blade on me but my sword, which seems over-dramatic, and slice my hand open before he can stop me.

“Ravina! Fucking voids, female! I didn’t mean to slice yourself. Let me look at it.” He goes to grab for my hand, but I dance out of his grasp and dart with my hand out until I hit the barrier.

My heart sinks as nothing happens. I pull my bloodied hand away, dread poisoning the hope that started to take root. Of course it couldn’t be that easy.

“Rav, look,” Killian whispers in confusion, and as I look to where he’s staring, I can’t help but gasp. My bloodied handprint is floating in front of us, slowly evaporating into the barrier. The second the last speck of my crimson life’s blood vanishes, a loud crack echoes through the air and the shield shatters, sparkling dust floating around us.

“Killian!” I point towards where the ruins of my old home lie, but no more are they ruins. It looks like what I remember from my fledglinghood. The path before us is smooth and well-kept leading through unscorched trees to roof upon roof towered over by white stone spires. It’s whole—not a scorch mark in sight.

A voice gasps from the forest trail in front of us, and Killian goes on alert as cloven hooves click against the cobbled path and a fae emerges from the shadow of the flourishing trees. Even though it’s been so long, I know this is a satyr, but I don’t recognize his face.

“Princess Maeven?” he asks, awed. “You came back to claim your throne. Just as your mother said you would.”

That’s the moment it clicks. Not everyone was banished from the city. Fae have been living here all along within the protective barrier. The citizens of Maleen live.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“WHO ARE YOU?” I ask, keeping close to Killian. I know he’s going to be on high alert even more now—if that’s possible—and I don’t want to scare the satyr off.