His sword lanced through the air, cutting off the head of a fae with gangly limbs and hideous yellow teeth. The severed head rolled by Merrick’s feet, and he sneered down at it in disgust. “Yes, my lady?”
“We have to get married!” Maeve’s gaze flicked to Tiernan, and the barest of smiles graced his full lips.
“As much as I love you, Maeve, my High King would have my head, if I so much as dared to try and steal you away from him.” He swung his leg out and kicked hard, launching the grotesque head into the sky. “Much like this poor fellow.”
“Not me and you.” She laughed, the sound nearly foreign to her. “Marry me to your High King.”
With Ciara gone, he was the rightful High King of Winter, which granted him the authority to conduct the binding ceremony.
Merrick reeled around, a bewildered expression plastered to his face. “Rightnow?”
“I can’t think of a better time.” Maeve rolled through the muck to avoid an outstretched claw of a grotesque dark fae. She pierced it through the heart, then yanked her blade free. A strong hand clasped her elbow, hauling her to her feet. Tiernan’s smile was breathtaking. She gazed up into his eyes and asked, “Can you?”
“I’m a little indisposed at the moment,” Merrick grunted, staving off another attack. “And besides, where the hell am I supposed to find a ribbon for the binding?”
“Right here.” Ceridwen ambled forward and shoved a golden ribbon into his hand.
He glanced down at it, then stared back at her. She’d taken the ribbon from her braid, and her hair fell down around her like a waterfall of golden silk. Her face was expressionless, her ruby lips set into a hard line. An unreadable emotion flared to life in Merrick’s eyes, but he quickly shuttered it away.
“Very well.” Merrick dodged to the left, striking down another dark fae. His hand clenched around the ribbon, then he handed it back to Ceridwen. “Bind their left hands.”
Ceridwen worked quickly, tying the strand of gold silk around both Maeve and Tiernan’s wrists, weaving it between their fingers. The fabric was soft and cool and against Maeve’s skin as Tiernan grabbed her hand, gripping it firmly.
Side by side they fought, never letting go of one another. They moved in unison, anticipating every parry, strike, and attack. Magic flowed through them freely, ebbing and breaking like the tide. It rose in cresting waves, crashing around them in a swell of undeniable power and strength.
“Now, Merrick!” Ceridwen shouted, calling out above the calamity of dark fae closing in on them.
Merrick’s sword glinted as it cut through the swarm of darkness. He shoved Ceridwen behind him, keeping her far from their reach. “Blood of their blood, I call unto thee, Mother Goddess who commands the earth, air, and sea.”
Gripping his weapon with both hands, he swung wide, slashing through the terror. “Born of one breath, one heart, and one ember, take these two souls and bind them together.”
His fierce gaze cut to Maeve, and then his dimples flashed. “Say your vows.”
Tiernan dragged Maeve close, lifting their joined hands above their heads, just as he would if they were dancing. His eyes were startling, clearer than she’d ever seen them. Deep blue, dark violet, flecked with mesmerizing gold. He grinned down at her, gorgeous and devastating all at once. “Maeve Ruhdneah, for as long as we walk these planes of existence, my soul will never know another. I will live for you. Breathe for you. Die for you.”
Maeve had never considered wedding vows. She’d never thought about what she’d say to him in this moment, but they spilled from that broken place inside of her. That place made whole because of him. “I choose you, Tiernan Velless. And I would choose you again. In this lifetime, in every lifetime. From now until the stars burn out of the night sky, until worlds collide, you are mine.”
He pressed his forehead to hers, and she swore then and there to give him everything. Every shattered, damaged piece of her.
“Infinitely,” he murmured.
“Eternally,” she whispered.
“Fucking kiss already,” Merrick demanded.
Tiernan’s smile widened, and then his mouth was on hers. Warm and inviting. He was the summer and the storm, thewicked, the wild, and the wonderful. A fairy tale come to life. He was every hope and dream, every wish and fantasy. And he washers.
Maeve’s arm warmed, and she glanced up to see the gold ribbon evaporate completely. The witch thread faded from her skin, and in its place, a tattoo took shape. Deep blue waves encircled her wrist, and at its center, on the inside, was a golden sun. The same one imprinted upon Tiernan’s flesh as well. The new Strand bound their souls, bound their love.
A rush of arcane magic crackled in the air between them, swelling with ancient power. Fusing with intensity, it continued to build, as though it was absorbing every fiber of her. She shuddered, and pinpricks of anxiety crawled along her spine.
“Relax, astora,” Tiernan whispered into her mind.“It’s part of the union.”
But there was a distinctive waver to his voice, as though not even he was entirely certain of what was happening.
The pressure continued to grow while the heady scent of orange blossom and cedarwood overwhelmed them.
When Maeve thought she couldn’t take any more, when she thought for certain this surge of archaic power would end them both, an earth-shattering blast erupted from between them. Beams of iridescent light scattered across the expanse of the battlefield like the shards of a thousand broken rainbows.
