Tiernan bowed before her. He rose, then rolled the cuff of his tattered shirt, displaying his forearm. There, marking his wrist, was the imprint of witch thread. It was an exact replica of her own—a star bursting between twin mountain peaks.“My soul is yours, astora. In this life, in every life, from now until I draw my last breath.”
Maeve’s bottom lip trembled, and she bit it to keep the swell of emotion at bay.“What if my memory never comes back?”
“Then I will wait.”He moved in, close enough to touch her, yet he held back.“For as long as it takes.”
Tiernan reached out, the tips of his fingers barely grazing her own.“Remember me, astora.”He lowered his head, gently pressing his forehead against hers.“Remember.”
Vague images filtered through her mind, moving in and out of focus. She grasped for them. Just like the breeze cooling her skin, they were impossible to catch, slipping between her fingers.
A broken sob escaped her.
Lir stepped up to them then, clamping a firm hand on Tiernan’s shoulder. “That’s enough for today, my lord.”
His voice was quiet, heavy with regret.
Maeve inhaled, but it was different. A distinctive scent filled her—one of mountains and flowers. A smell she both knew and remembered. Her eyes widened.
Merrick was on the move before she could utter a word.
“To arms!” he shouted. Fae warriors sprinted along the upper walls of the courtyard, their weapons at the ready, their arrows notched. Merrick rushed to the opposite side, his sword drawn.
“Wait!” She reached out to stop him, but Lir grabbed her instead, dragging her behind him.
“Get her out of here!” Tiernan demanded, as two swords appeared in his hands.
“What? No!” Maeve struggled against Lir, fighting to maintain her ground. She didn’t need to be carted away, she could fight just as well as the rest of them. Better, even. “Lir, let me go!”
He stared down at her, hesitating.
“Youknowme.” She jerked her arm again, a silent demand for him to release her.
“My lady, I?—”
“Please,” she begged, pleading with him.
His silver gaze stole to Tiernan, who was halfway across the courtyard. “Fine. But at least promise you’ll stay by my side.”
She nodded sharply. “I promise.”
Lir surged toward the chaos, then came up short. Maeve catapulted forward but he shot one arm out, catching her.
Before their eyes, plumes of shadows emerged from the center of the courtyard. They swirled like flames of night, expanding and unfurling into the eternal darkness of destruction. From beside her, Lir stiffened, raising both of his curved swords. Ready to defend.
“Steady,” Tiernan commanded, his voice low and thunderous.
The shadows billowed, and a figure strolled out from the darkness. Beams of sunlight splintered off of him, illuminating his swath of dark teal hair. He lifted his head, and from across the courtyard, a pair of striking lavender eyes found her.
“Hey, Princess.” Rowan shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Long time no see.”
“Rowan!”
Maeve’s squeal caught Tiernan off guard, and he watched in shock as she sprinted toward Rowan, then launched herself into his arms.
Envy sank its covetous claws into Tiernan’s back, scarring him.
“Holy shit.” Merrick lowered his weapon, staring at Maeve, who was still held in Rowan’s embrace. “He’s back.”
Rowan glanced over the top of Maeve’s head, the corner of his mouth curving into a deliberate smirk. “In the flesh.”
