“You mean when you’re not busy being Parisa’s puppet?” Saoirse countered, her knuckles whitening around the hilt of the dagger in her hand.
Casimir spared her a glance. To most, it would look dismissive, flippant even. But not to Maeve. She saw the anguish flash in his eyes, the quick burn of acceptance of one’s fate.
“I will pay for my crimes in due time, Saoirse. Though as much as you want to kill me…” He paused, lowering his head once more. “I will die by someone else’s hands.”
Maeve imagined Parisa would be more than pleased to end his life. Especially if she ever learned he was apparently working against her.
But testing Casimir’s loyalties would have to wait. Right now, there were more important matters at stake. Like the fact that Garvan was no longer in the dungeon where he belonged.
“Where is he now?” Maeve asked, determined to end him once and for all.
Casimir shook his head. “No one knows.”
Murmurs of frustration and hushed whispers of unease spread among them, but Maeve would not be so easily deterred. If anyone could find Garvan, it would be her. He was her brother, after all, and the familial Strand tying them to one another would lead her right to him.
She closed her eyes, drowning out all sound around her, until the beating of her heart echoed in her ears. Searching for that buried pull, that connection she longed to sever, she waded through the swell of neglect, diving deeper into the darkest part of her soul where she found the decaying Strand bonding her to her duplicitous sibling.
Garvan’s mind was a violent storm of thoughts. A descent into the madness of corruption. Chaos fabricated the extent of his damaged soul, making it impossible to determine the nature of his intent. He was suffering and rage. Bitterness and self-loathing. Yet beneath the surface of those volatile emotions was a thin layer of desolation. His heart was black, rotted from years of malevolence, but a sliver of regret had lodged itself somewhere within those putrid walls, concealed and forgotten.
He moved with stealth, a skeleton of his former self, clinging to shadows as he crept through the darkened halls of Kyol’s palace.
There was another pull, but this Strand was stronger. More powerful.
It bound her to Dorian.
Maeve’s eyes flew open. She sucked in a breath as all the air was pulled from her lungs, leaving her gasping. “He’s going to kill my father.”
Lir stood abruptly. “We need to?—”
“There’s no time!” Maeve would not lose her father, not to her bastard of a brother. Shay had already been taken from her. She would not fail her bloodline again. Still dressed in her overly formal attire, Maeve pulled her Aurastone. “I must stop him.”
“Maeve,” Tiernan warned, stepping closer.
Saoirse shoved to her feet, her silver braid whipping behind her. “You don’t know how he escaped, Maeve. He might not be alone. He could have soldiers working with him. There could be dark fae.”
Maeve ignored their concerns. She was already wasting too much time. “Then I’ll figure that out when I get there.”
“Whoa, my lady.” Merrick raised both hands in an attempt to appease her. “Just hang on a second. You need a plan. You can’t just barge into Kyol and take on Garvan, you have no idea what could be waiting for you.”
Her lungs burned and she wanted to scream. Why didn’t anyone understand her? When would they realize she could take care of herself? It was like she had those damned cuffs on her wrists all over again.
“I will not stand by and do nothing.” She called upon her magic, preparing tofade.
Tiernan grabbed her arm, his grip almost punishing. “Be reasonable. You can’t do this on your own.”
Maeve yanked her arm free, the ice of her glare enough to freeze all of their hearts. “Watch me.”
Chapter Nine
“Godsdamnit!” Tiernan shouted, fury ravaging him.
Why was she so fucking infuriating?
The witch thread marking his wrist seared his skin, and he clamped one hand over it to cease its burning. His magic revolted. Lightning ripped overhead, diminishing the stars and terrorizing the skies. Thunder cracked and the ground beneath his feet trembled.
“Where the hell did she go?” Saoirse demanded, darting toward the balcony. Lir flung one arm out, snagging her by the waist to keep her from flying over the edge.
“To Autumn, most likely.” Casimir stood up slowly, throwing his hood over his head. “To kill her brother.”
