“That was before,” he ground out.
“Before what?” she challenged.
“Before Parisa started destroying my home.” His cup shattered and tea spilled all over the table. He cut his hand through the air and the mess vanished from sight. “Before she attempted to wreck and ruin all that Ilove.”
The implication of his words was not lost on her.
“Do you even have a plan?” He seemed too reserved, too disinterested.
“Not exactly.” Maeve shifted, plucking at the ruby beads dangling from her corset. “I was just going to go.”
He blew out a heavy breath, grabbing his own book off the coffee table.
Maeve watched him, curious as to what game he played. She expected more from him. More questions. More snide remarks. More warnings, even. What she didn’t anticipate was for him to seem completely unbothered by her scheme. Or worse, to not even care.
It wasn’t that she wanted his approval, but their relationship, or lack of one, had been strained ever since her arrival. It was no longer easy between them. Too much had happened. He died for her. Their vigilant avoidance of the matter had done nothing but weave a tangled web of friction and hostility around them—ensnaring them both. Staring at him, she waited while he pretended to read, until he calmly turned a page and looked up at her once more.
“That’s it?” she prompted.
He arched a singular brow. “What’s it?”
“You’re not going to try to stop me?”
“You’re a High Queen, Maeve.” He glanced down at the open book in his lap, detached from the conversation. “You can make your own decisions.”
“Okay. Fine.” She sank further into her chair, relaxing only slightly. “Good.”
“It would be foolish of me to try to talk you out of it,” he continued, his voice mild. “Considering I’m going with you.”
Maeve cocked her head. “What?”
“I can’t let you go alone. Not to Diamarvh.” Rowan ran his thumb along his jaw, a smile toying with the corner of his mouth. He chuckled. “Besides, Tiernan would kill me, assuming the god of death doesn’t get to me first.”
“I can’t ask that of you.”
He’d already sacrificed so much for her.
“You don’t have to.”
“Rowan—”
His eyes locked onto her, silencing her. “Either I go with you or you don’t go at all.”
Shoulders slumping, she curled her feet beneath her and took another sip of coffee. A bizarre sense of awareness fell around her, cloaking her shoulders like a cape of loneliness. Her heart skittered in her chest, goosebumps broke out over her skin, and she shivered at the impression of a memory she couldn’t place.
“This isn’t like before.” Rowan’s voice splintered her thoughts. “I won’t abandon you. Not again. Not ever.”
Maeve lifted her cup to her lips, eyeing him over the rim. “Abandon me?”
“Yes.” Regret clouded his eyes. “Like when I left you alone at the Autumn Ceilie.”
The memory of that night was blurry, shoved into the darkest corner of her mind. Something she didn’t want to remember. All she was left with was how that glimpse in time made her feel. Frustrated. Angry. Miserable. They poured from someplace deep inside her, somewhere long since forgotten.
“You knew.” Accusation lit her with a fire she couldn’t contain. “All that time, youknewI possessed the soul of the goddess Danua. But you left me anyway, claiming you were going to call in a favor. If you knew I already had the soul, then where did you go? Why did you leave me by myself?”
“I went in search of the will ó wisp.” He said it like it was the easiest thing in the world.
“Why?” she pressed.
