Rowan flashed his signature smirk. The one that was always so infuriating. So endearing. “Don’t cry for me, Princess.”
And then he let go.
Magic swelled around her, engulfing her. Stealing her vision, swallowing all sound. She drifted through the void, floating through the unraveled threads of space and time.
Rowan and Laurel were gone.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Rain continued to fall in the Spring Court, but it wasn’t enough to wash away the blood soaking the ground. Shreds of sunlight tore through the ominous sky, igniting a spark of hope.
Disoriented, Maeve expelled the breath she’d been holding.
She was back on the battlefield, deposited into the chaos of death once more. But there was no time to recover, no time to replay everything she’d just experienced with Shay, Rowan, and Laurel.
She had to fight, had to win, had to live.
“Maeve!” Tiernan swept her up into his arms, crushing her against him. His scent of warm sandalwood, palms, and plumeria washed over her, becoming part of her. “I thought I lost you.”
Raw agony haunted his voice, and she threw her arms around his neck, relishing the feel of him. His heart beat in time with her own, and their uneven breathing matched one another, so the rise and fall of their chests became synchronous. She buried her face in his neck, reveling in him.
“Never.”
Tiernan captured both sides of her face, running his thumbs across the tops of her cheeks. His eyes harbored every emotion she thought she’d never feel again. Sadness and pain. Anger and worry. Fear and love.
“We have to get out of here. We need to fall back and regroup before we lose anymore lives, before it gets worse. Before we lose everything and everyone.”
“No.” Maeve held firm against his plan.
“What?” He shook his head, then shoved his wet hair back from his face. “But, Maeve?—”
“Marry me, Tiernan.” Her heart swelled as soon as she spoke the words.
He stared at her like she’d just invited him to sit down for a cup of coffee in the middle of a war.
“I plan on it.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “As soon as this is over, I have every intention of making you my wife.”
“I don’t want to wait.” She’d never been more sure of anything in her life. “You told me before to live the moments I’m given, and I want to live every moment with you. From now until forever.”
She opened one hand, summoning her sword of sunlight. Then she raised her arm, drawing the dark, tumultuous clouds roiling overhead. She pulled them, beckoning them to her, and the lifeblood of magic coursed through her in a volatile current. The clouds spiraled toward her, forging a weapon in her opened palm, one crafted of biting wind and stinging rain, imbued with the wrath of distant thunder. A sword of storms.
Maeve handed it to Tiernan, smiling. “It’s now or never.”
Together, they slashed through the next tide of dark fae. Maeve moved with newfound energy, clinging desperately to that spark of hope igniting inside of her. She coaxed it to light with love, willing it to burn as bright as the dawn. The sun danced with the storm, a tantalizing display of magic, of brilliantlight and ominous clouds, melding together to extinguish the dark.
Spinning on one heel, she turned to where Merrick and Ceridwen were surrounded.
No more.
Bolts of fire and iridescent streaks erupted from the tips of her fingers. Her magic ravaged the earth, scorching a path straight to them as the ground split open like the angry jaws of a raging beast, devouring the dark fae on either side. Burying them alive.
With the portal gone, all that was left to do was kill the dark fae who stood in their way of Parisa.
This time when Maeve smiled, it was with pure vengeance.
Merrick and Ceridwen rushed to them. Ceridwen was still bleeding from the wound to her side, though not as profusely, thank the gods. Merrick, however, wasted no time launching back into the fray, keeping Ceridwen safely behind him while he cut down every monster that so much as snarled in his direction.
“Merrick!” Maeve shouted. She lunged into her next attack, ducking low to avoid a blade, slicing the vile creature in half.
