Page 7 of Crownless Heirs

Sorcha’s eyes snapped to the warrior and then back to Cat, who merely shrugged, his grin filled with amusement. “It never really came up.”

“Unbelievable,” Kyron said with an exasperated sigh.

The silver-haired warrior shook his head, clearly just as exasperated. “It’s been months with no word. People were thinking the worst.”

Another warrior crossed his arms, a hint of frustration in his expression. “The people will want to know you’re alive.”

Cat sighed, the statement settling heavily on his shoulders. “I’m sure they will.”

Sorcha watched them closely, noting the absence of bowing or formalities.

One of them emitted a half-laugh, shaking his head. “Of course, we’d be the ones to find you first.”

Cat grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Here I was hoping for a quiet entrance.”

Sorcha, still reeling from the revelation, turned to Kyron. “And you didn’t know?”

Kyron nodded, his voice low. “No one has actually seen the prince outside their walls.”

She turned to Kyron, lowering her voice further. “Who exactly are the Cait Sidhe?”

Kyron kept in step beside her, his gaze flicking to the warriors ahead. “They are a neutral court. Mercenaries, assassins, bounty hunters. But they also guide the dead, ensuring safe passage across the planes… or leading them to damnation.”

Sorcha nodded slowly, absorbing the information as they followed behind Maelan and the warriors. The path narrowed, the trees pressing closer, their dark trunks twisted into impossible shapes. As they ventured deeper into the forest, they came upon branches intertwined, thick and sprawling upward, forming an impenetrable wall of gnarled branches. Sorcha slowed, her brow furrowed as she scanned the expanse before them. The trees had entwined like an intricate gate, stretching endlessly in both directions. There was no way through, no gaps, no breaks; just the oppressive weight of the woods closing in.

Kyron looked at the warriors as he spoke. “There’s no way past this.”

The warriors didn’t answer. One of them stepped forward, pressing his palm against the bark. His voice was a whisper as he murmured an incantation. The ground trembled, and the trees shuddered, groaning as the ancient command took hold. Their roots unraveled, stretching apart like massive, living tendrils. The branches above curled back, shifting and twisting, revealing a path that hadn’t been there before; it was truly a gate. Beyond, the Cait Sidhe kingdom revealed itself.

Cat strode forward without hesitation, his tail flicking behind him. “Welcome to MoonCrest Court, welcome to my home.”

As they stepped through the newly opened gate, the sheer grandeur of the kingdom unfolded before them. The court was unlike anything Sorcha had ever seen, a realm between the wild and the divine.

3

MoonCrest Court

Towering trees reached towards the sky; their massive trunks housed entire homes. Suspended bridges, crafted from living branches and vines, gracefully arched between them, illuminated by a soft, golden glow. Lanterns hung from the canopy like captured stars, casting flickering patterns against the deep green leaves. The scent of damp earth and magic floated on the wind. The city stretched both upward and outward. While some Cait Sidhe lived high above homes nestled within the trees, their balconies adorned with ivy and moonstone, others built their homes along the forest floor. Here, the roots of the majestic trees formed natural archways, enclosing grand halls and dwellings alike. At the heart of it all, nestled between two colossal trees whose branches curved protectively over its golden walls, stood the castle. The structure appeared as if the forest itself had shaped it into existence, woven rather than constructed. Gold traced the archways, forming intricate patterns that swirled like living runes across the stone, whispering of a magic older than time. It was a beautiful and untamed masterpiece, unlike the rigid palaces of Eadartha. The Cait Sidhe’s castle pulsed with its own unique energy. Laughter filled the air, music wove through the streets, and the hum of a thriving kingdom resonated throughout. As they ventured further into the city, the voices grew louder.

“Maelan?”

“By the moon, it’s him…”

Figures emerged from their homes, from winding staircases carved into the bark, from shaded market stalls, all turning toward them. Their feline eyes gleamed with recognition, shock, and disbelief. Then, one by one, they bowed. Some in full, others with the briefest nods, but all acknowledging him. Sorcha swallowed hard. Even Kyron seemed tense at the sheer weight of the moment. Maelan had not just returned; the Cait Sidhe had been waiting for him. As they neared the castle, a figure emerged from its golden halls. A man with the unmistakable presence of a warrior, his features were sharp and his movements precise. His gaze locked onto Maelan, and his breath caught.

“So it’s true… you’re alive.”

Like the others, he was beautiful in an otherworldly way. He was tall and athletic, and his posture was effortlessly poised. Just brushing his jawline, his calico-colored hair was a striking blend of orange, white, and deep black. His emerald eyes were undeniably feline: elongated and slanted. While his pointed ears twitched, dusted with the faintest touch of fur. But his presence differed from the others. Maelan only smirked, and in a single breath, he shifted.

This was not Cat.

He towered over her now, easily standing at 6’5, his form a perfect balance of power and grace. Beneath his shirt, his muscles flexed, the fabric glimmering with a soft iridescence in the dim light. Elegant and intricate black markings curled on his arms, resembling the stripes of a Bengal cat. His neck bore the same stripes that reached his jawline, except for a single peculiar stripe that went from his jaw to his ear. Sorcha glimpsed the wound on his exposed side, a blood-caked burn peeking out from beneath his shirt. His hair was as black as obsidian, yet it held faint streaks of rainbows. Depending on the light and how he moved, the colors changed. It was slightly tousled, cropped just short enough to brush his ears. But it was his eyes that undid her. That same liquid silver, but now set upon a face she didn’t recognize. A face that was devastatingly beautiful. For a short while, she simply stared.

Then, the calico man exhaled a quiet laugh. “You always enjoyed an entrance.”

The warriors grinned, some rolling their eyes, some laughing outright. The moment broke as if they had just been waiting for the confirmation, waiting to believe it was really him.

One of them clapped him on the back. “What in the Veil took you so long?”