“Tell me about it.” Tiernan shook off Maeve’s words, ignored the severity of the hurt still pulsing in the deepest part of his heart. “Merrick,fadeto Niahvess and return with a report as soon as possible.”
The hunter nodded once, then vanished a moment later.
“We should set up camp here for the night.” Tiernan looked to Malachy for confirmation. “Just in case.”
Malachy dipped his head. “Agreed, my lord.”
As Malachy issued orders, Tiernan’s gaze slid toward the footprints in the snow that were already being covered by the steady fall of more snowflakes. If Maeve didn’t need Tiernan, then fine, he would figure out where they went from here later. But Lir was sworn to protect her, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
Chapter Sixteen
Maeve stomped through the forest, agitation firing through her with each crunch of snow beneath her boots. Her hand burned from where she had slapped Tiernan across the face. But damn, that male had infuriated her more than she ever thought possible. She might’ve felt a tiny bit of regret at the harshness of her words, and they would definitely need to have a heavy conversation whenever she cooled off…
But he had no right.
No right to stop her from fighting. No right to tell her what to do, to try to command her like one of his soldiers. No right to takecontrolof her body, all in the name of keeping her safe.
She huffed out an annoyed breath, and it misted before her.
Now that the heat of battle was fading, she realized how ridiculously cold it was in the Winter Court. But she didn’t care. She didn’t need any warming layers. It wasn’t like she was going to stay gone for too long, but she had to walk away from Tiernan before she did something worse. Like stab him in the chest.
“Fucking fae,” she muttered to herself, her pace slowing.
Maeve knew Lir trailed her. Sometimes he was like her shadow. Always there. Always watching. He stayed behind her,unspeaking, his stoic presence more a comfort than anything else, and she welcomed the quiet.
The woods here were still. Almost unnaturally quiet. There was no birdsong, no scampering of forest creatures. Perhaps it was simply too cold for them here. It was barely the afternoon, but already the sun was starting its descent into the western sky, and the hazy, overcast light narrowly splintered in through the thick canopy of trees.
“Why are you following me?” she asked, not bothering to turn around.
She could feel the shift in his demeanor, imagined his spine locking into place, preparing for some kind of confrontation.
“No reason.” His deep voice was soft and Maeve frowned.
Unlikely. She had no doubt Tiernan had sent him after her.
Maeve ran her palm along the roughened bark of a tree trunk as she passed. “I’m fine, Lir.”
“I’m aware, my lady.”
A sigh escaped her. She continued her trek through the winter woods, wrapping her arms around herself. There was no point in being angry with Lir. He was only doing what was asked of him—well that, and he was sworn to protect her. The Strand marking his upper arm, a vow to his High King, bound him to keep her safe at all costs.
“Why don’t you ever shift?” she asked suddenly, knowing he continued to lurk behind her, keeping a cautious distance between them.
Maeve sensed his trepidation on the topic, felt it with each passing second it took before he finally responded to her.
“It’s not something I care to do very often, my lady.”
“And why is that?” She tossed a glance back and caught sight of him of few paces back. His shoulders were dropped, as though there was some invisible weight holding them down, but hiskeen gaze was focused on her. She paused, turning to face him fully.
Lir hesitated, then said, “Shifting into my wolf form is…painful. Not in a physical sense, but it brings back unwanted memories.”
Hurt darkened his eyes, an emotion Maeve had never seen manifest in him. Lir was always so steadfast and resilient, so effortlessly calm and composed. To witness him express such a sentiment to her…her heart ached.
“I only shift when it is absolutely necessary.” Lir strolled a little closer, his studded boots crunching lightly against the frozen ground. “When I feel I can inflict more suffering with claws and fangs than I can with my swords.”
Maeve nodded. There were more questions she wanted to ask, especially since Lir’s past was somewhat of a mystery to her. But the look on his face told her he’d already said enough, more than he intended.
Ducking her head, she kept walking. Slower this time. Her breath misted before her and the trees bristled against the chilling breeze. The cold air seemed to cool her temper as well. It wouldn’t be long before Tiernan set out to find her, or slipped into her mind, and asked her to return. He deserved nothing less than the silent treatment after that little stunt he pulled, and though she planned on forgiving him, she also knew he wasn’t the only one who needed to apologize. Her words had been harsh. Unkind and cruel.
