A shaky breath escaped her and her gaze fell upon Tiernan.
Mine.
Maeve stared at the male before her with eyes reminiscent of the twilight hour—both blue and violet, and devastating. He’d been beaten severely, they both had, and blood still pooled from the wound near his mouth. She expected something, anything, but only emptiness found her. The ache was soul deep. The weight of loss crushed her. She ran her thumb along the underside of the ring she wore, and he tracked the movement. No matter how desperately she reached for her memories, there was nothing, an expansive void of a life she couldn’t remember. All she had was the witch thread marking her wrist. A binding promise, a declaration that told her she should know him, that she should love him. That this male, this High King, belonged to her.
“Astora.” His voice was hoarse, as though he’d suffered an agony far greater than torture.
Awareness crawled along her spine and she stole a hasty glance over her shoulder to the remaining trooping fae still cowering in the woods.
“Leave,” she demanded, the singular word holding a vow to end them all if they refused to obey. “Now.”
They darted through the trees, heading east, disappearing behind a wall of overgrowth and low-hanging vines. Only once she was certain they were gone did she turn back to Tiernan and Merrick.
Their wounds were numerous. There was no way of knowing how much blood they’d lost, or how long they’d gone without food or water. Overhead, clouds rolled across the sky, gray and ominous. The wind picked up, gusting down through the mountain pass, carrying with it a distinctive chill and the threat of…something else.
Maeve shuddered, shaking off the strange sensation. She approached Merrick, her gaze fastened to the iron cuffs clamped on his wrists and ankles. Tilting her head, she looked up at him. “Let’s get you out of these, shall we?”
“Be careful, my lady.” He pulled away when she reached for him. “It’s iron.”
The corner of her mouth curved into a smile. “Don’t worry, my lord. I won’t hurt you.”
Maeve held out her hand, channeling her magic, focusing on the imprisoning metal. She melded it, warped it, warmed it until the iron softened like ribbons of silver. Her blood hummed, strengthening, and the cuffs fell away. She repeated the same process on Tiernan, relief easing the ache in her heart when they were finally free of the iron.
A rush of energy spiraled around Tiernan and Merrick, their power finally unleashed. Maeve staggered back as the overwhelming scent of orange blossom and cedarwood ruptured between them, filling the small clearing with immeasurableforce, a wave of intensity she could barely withstand. The air crackled, her wings fluttered, and her braid lifted from her shoulder at the sheer magnitude of the Archfae standing in front of her.
Their magic was wondrous.
Breathtaking.
Tiernan stepped toward her, but the mountains rumbled. The sound of it reminded Maeve of a low growl, like a beast awakening from a long slumber. Bits of rock tumbled down the mountain face, and the mist to the west started to shift as though it was taking on a life of its own. Maeve swallowed a gasp as the world shimmered.
“Glamour,” she breathed.
Merrick inhaled, the blue of his eyes darkening. “We have to get out of here.”
Another gust of wind slammed into them, more vicious than before.
Tiernan was by her side a second later. “Can youfade?”
She blinked, staring at him.
An earth-shattering crack sent her careening into his arms as the ground rumbled in anger.
“Go!” Merrick shouted.
Tiernan crushed Maeve to him, grabbed Merrick by the arm, and together, theyfaded.
Chapter Two
The swell of magic surrounding Maeve eased and when she finally caught her breath, she found herself standing in a courtyard, the warm caress of Summer welcoming her home.
She was still in Tiernan’s arms, the strength of him supporting her, holding her steady. Palm trees swayed in the comforting breeze, their long fronds sifting against one another, creating a soothing melody. Sparkling streams of turquoise wound their way through the enclosure and fountains gurgled to life as sunlight caught their sprays, showering the courtyard in tiny rainbows. On a breath, the tantalizing scent of sun-drenched palms, sandalwood, and the faintest hint of plumeria filled her.
Tiernan.
This was where she belonged.
His grip on her waist tightened, and she was so close to leaning into him, to tilting her head up and pressing a small kiss to the underside of his bruised jaw, when a symphony of voices echoed off the glistening white stone walls.
