She blinked again at the dark gray sky, stars just beginning to sparkle to life. And then a shudder violently overtook Aerity’s body. She nearly retched as realization dawned. She’d left her little sister, weakened, in the building with that madwoman. Had help arrived? Was she safe? And, oh, seas . . . the beast . . . who had killed it?
Aerity turned her head and saw Tiern sitting at the edge of the shore, his knees pulled up. But it had been Lord Alvi’s voice she heard upon awakening. . . .The beast is dead. . . and here sat Tiern, alone and upset. Where was Paxton? Ignoring the pain, Aerity’s head whipped to the side. There was the beast, truly dead by the water, with Lief standing over it. Paxton was nowhere. Aerity felt bewildered as bits of reality shook her. She was afraid to speak, to learn what had happened.
Tiern stared down at the water that splashed over his bare feet. She’d never seen him look forlorn like this, as if lost in dark thoughts.
Fear seized her. Her eyes adjusted as she peered around. A boat was being rowed rapidly around the bend toward them.Farther behind it, great flames rose from the distant Isle of Loch, thick smoke licking the sky.
“Vixie . . .” Carefully, Aerity rolled and pushed up on her elbow, one hand in the sand to anchor herself. Down the shore, Lord Alvi was still leaning over the beast’s stiff form, doing something that she couldn’t figure out. Her eyes darted around, panic pumping through her.
“Vixie,” she whispered. It hurt to talk. “They need to get Vixie.” But nobody could hear her.
As the boat neared, and an anchor was thrown out, Aerity heard a guard shout, “Has the great beast been slain? Is it finally done?”
Lord Alvi, stood, in all his glory, holding the beast’s massive head in his hand. His face was fearsome. Aerity’s breath caught as he shouted, “The beast will no longer ravish the lands of Lochlanach! I have killed it this very night!”
Cursed seas. . .
The boat full of men roared a unified cheer, in direct opposition to the feelings raging inside Aerity. Tiern’s head hung. Men jumped out, splashing, running ashore to congratulate Lord Alvi and thank him.
“Tiern!” the princess shouted, crying out in pain, but he couldn’t hear her over the men. Surely they wouldn’t be celebrating if something had happened to the younger princess. Aerity pushed to her knees and yelled again, “Where! Is! Vixie?” One soldier turned, blanching at the sight of her, then jogged over.
“Are you okay, Princess Aerity? I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice you—”
“Never mind me. Where is my sister?”
He nodded. “Princess Vixie was rushed by boat to the castle docks.”
“Thank you,” Aerity breathed painfully. Having seen that she was now awake, Tiern stood and rushed over, lowering himself to her side.
“It’s all right,” he told the soldier. “I’ve got her.”
“Another boat is coming,” the man told Aerity. “We’ll have you back to the castle and fixed up in no time.” She nodded, and the man left them.
Aerity pressed a hand against her ribs. “Tiern?”
He faced her, his long hair hanging limp. “Aye?” he whispered.
She could barely force the words out. “Where . . . where is Pax?”
He dropped his eyes, ashamed. “Gone. He has left.”
Aerity’s mind spun. “He’s alive?”
Tiern nodded. Aerity’s heart plumped with relief, only to sink again as she realized he’d truly left, just as he promised. Tiern glanced over at the celebrating men, and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Princess. It’s my fault. Pax should have had the kill. It was his, but he gave it to Lief. . . . He should have let me die.”
A chill of realization tingled down Aerity’s spine as she took in Tiern’s blood-soaked skin and trousers. Her headsnapped up to Lord Alvi, midshore. Amid the animated talking, his blond head turned to her and met her eyes. His face was firm—the face of her husband to be. He gave her a nod of acknowledgment and turned his attention back to the men.
“No,” Aerity whispered. A deep longing for Paxton expanded within her. “Seas, no. Please.” Her stomach knotted so hard that it sent another shooting pain through her ribs.
Tiern pressed his face into his hands.
Just then voices from a second boat cast across the waters. Aerity heard her name being called. She looked up to see the Ascomannian hunters, the Zandalee, Harrison, and Wyneth. Her cousin was waving, her forehead scrunched with concern. The men on the boat burst into cheers and Wyneth followed their gazes to Lord Alvi, still holding the beast’s head high. The lord was watching the boat as it neared, but his eyes were hardly on his men. He slowly lowered the beast’s head. Wyneth tore her sight from him, focusing on Aerity instead. Harrison stared at Lief with a set jaw.
The princess allowed one pair of tears to fall before she wiped them away with the back of her sandy hand and swallowed hard. She had to be strong. This was a good thing for the people of their lands. She would keep telling herself that, and perhaps someday this feeling of dire regret would dissipate. Perhaps someday her own bitter disappointment would be swallowed up by all the good that would come from today’s events.
But for now, those things were still wholly present and alive within her.
When Wyneth’s boat touched shore, guards leaped out and were surrounding Aerity within seconds, gently lifting her, wrapping her in a blanket. And then her cousin’s beautiful face, flushed with splotches of cream and rose.
