Finally, he slowly turned to face her, and it was then she saw the cut on his lip, the gash and swelling beneath his eyes, and the mottled bruising around his ribs.
“Tier! What happened?”
She rushed forward but he stepped back, away from her. “It’s nothing.”
Maeve halted in her tracks, frozen in place by the sting of rejection. Instantly, she shielded herself in defense, shuttering herself off from him. “It’s obviously something. You’re bleeding.”
His gaze dipped down to her skirt. “And you’re covered in blood that is not your own.”
Rearing back, Maeve tucked her mother’s book under one arm, then frowned. Unusual tension dampened the room, making it insufferable. “Are you mad at me?”
He laughed, harsh and grating.
“You told me some time ago to either stand behind you, stand beside you, or get out of your fucking way.” He tilted his head, scrutinizing her. “Perhaps it’s time I should choose the latter.”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous.” She couldn’t believe he’d throw her own words back in her face. They buried such petty altercations and left behind where they belonged. “Of course I want you to stand with me, I?—”
“Do you?” he asked, storming toward her as thunder rumbled through the heavens. “Because it was very clear you didn’t want nor need my help tonight.”
“No.” Maeve shook her head, dismissing the unfair allegation. “You told me I couldn’t go by myself, so?—”
“So what?” The thunder cracked louder this time, the makings of a violent storm. “You had to prove me wrong? You had to make a statement? I am aware of your greatness, Maeve, but did you ever stop to think that maybe everyone here isn’t quite ready to lose you again just because you think you have to make a point?”
“I’m not making a point!” Maeve’s voice pitched and a rise of anger bubbled inside of her. “I was trying to save my father’s life.”
“And you did. And I’msofucking proud of you.” It sounded like he meant it, but the words dripped with diluted sarcasm. “But you got lucky.”
She staggered back. “Excuse me?”
Tiernan was closer now, crowding in on her, stealing her space. Her air. “You. Got. Lucky.”
Maeve was ready to argue but he barreled on, silencing her.
“What if it had been a trap? What if some of Autumn’s soldiers were on Garvan’s side and released him on purpose?” He stalked away from her, fuming, and the ground trembled beneath them. “Seven hells, Maeve. Parisa could have been there. You don’t know. You didn’t even think. You didn’t make a plan. You just acted on your own without giving a damn about anyone or anything else.”
An unwelcome sensation clenched her stomach, carving her from the inside out.
“How did he escape?” Tiernan demanded, whirling on her.
“What?”
“How did he escape, Maeve?” He threw out his arms, his magic pulsing with power. “Did you even ask him? Or were you too busy being the fucking savior?”
Maeve clamped her mouth shut. She hadn’t asked how Garvan had escaped because it didn’t matter. He was dead. Nothing else made a difference. And Tiernan was wrong. She wasn’tlucky. She knew damn good and well how to handle herself. She knew a war was coming and she would win it, with or without him.
“I don’t have to justify myself to you.” She lifted her chin. “Or anyone.”
She spun on her heel, heading for the door of her own bedroom.
“You’re just going to walk away?”
Maeve didn’t answer, and she didn’t look back.
“Fine. You fight your battles by yourself, Dawnbringer,” Tiernan retorted, vehemence laced his words. “And the rest of us will fight ours together.”
She yanked open the door and slammed it shut behind her, so the hinges rattled. Explosive thunder quaked the walls of her room and she trembled, slouching against the doorframe. Maeve half expected, half hoped, Tiernan would break down the door and come after her. But only agonizing silence followed in the aftermath of their argument.
She listened for him, felt for him, but he was gone.
