by Gaja J. Kos
I had accepted my death, but I was adamant not to let the bastard get away with it unscathed.
Instead of holding up a circle of defense, I let Faolan’s power press against my skin, while I fashioned my own into funnel. The Fae was too caught up in the promise of victory to notice the gap my magic had dug up, but the damned play I’d made hurt. It fucking hurt.
I screamed as tendrils of his energy threatened to flay me alive, yet even in the midst of agony, I managed to maneuver the sword into the sliver of open space. Crackling thunder drowned out my voice, the blade’s presence filling me with the strength to hold on just a little longer. The lightning stayed contained to the surface, knowing that the instant it gave me away, Faolan would wall up and steal away the only chance I had. He had to believe he was still shielded. Still untouchable.
Inch by inch, I guided the blade farther, painfully aware that the Fae’s magic was already seeping through my skin, seeking to tether itself inside me then rip me apart.
My entire body shook from the pain, blood rushing from my ears, my nose, my eyes as I refused to yield to the pressure. Just as the last of my magic tore itself from my core, I shoved my hands forward and buried the Sword of Ala deep into the bastard’s stomach. The blade cut through skin and sinew, the sudden explosion of stench letting me know I’d ruptured his guts.
“You bitch!” Faolan screamed, swatting at my hands to get the blade out.
Unable to block his blows, I stumbled to the ground, but the Sword of Ala remained in place even without my guidance or support. Lightning spread from her in a beautiful storm, ravaging through the Fae and destroying him from within.
Faolan’s hazel eyes fell on my crumpled form even as he jerked and twisted, his filled with nothing but hatred and the punishment that was to come. Power accumulated within him, shaking the tendrils that were still working their way beneath my skin, working on fulfilling the promise of my death.
As the energy exploded from Faolan in tune with his own dying breath, a deep sense of serenity washed over me.
I understood it now.
Tierney’s duty as one of the Court’s protectors was to safeguard the hallow, the power of the land.
As High Lady, as consort and true mate, mine was to protect the High Lord.
I fell into the soft embrace of darkness, my body’s natural energy flickering out.
I hadn’t failed.
Chapter 32
“Come on.” a rough voice sounded as I stirred, the darkness my naked body was wrapped in dispelling like the many veils of night before the approaching dawn.
There was a presence inside me, a pulsing, heated presence that seemed to feed me strength, that urged me to wake up and shrug off the exquisite pelt of death I sought comfort in.
But I was reluctant. I was so, so reluctant.
My entire body was weary, muscles heavy and sore, and viciously complementing the hollowness gaping deep inside me.
I frowned. No, not hollowness. There was a small trickle of power there—a small trickle of my essence that fought to grow. But it was as if a creek wanted to fill the vast expanse of a dried-up lake. Sinking into the embrace of darkness, forgetting about the pain, was easier.
Something tugged at my core. Again. And again.
I snarled at the disturbance, but the damn thing was fucking persistent. Why couldn’t it leave me alone?
But instead of complying with my wishes, that sense of someone present in my very atoms increased, expanding through me as if it were its right.
The thought made me pause. It was its right.
Because we were connected. We were two halves of a whole.
We were one.
“Oh, thank fuck!” The rough voice reached me, streaming through the darkness like a ray of light. And, this time, I recognized its owner.
Awareness surged through me, shoving the battered state of my body to the back of my mind. I shed the cloak of death and opened my eyes.
The familiar high ceiling of the bedroom snapped into place, and I found myself looking into the fierce purple gaze, looking into the eyes of my love. My mate. “Cian.”
“Thank fuck!” he exploded, lunging at me and stopping just before he would have crushed me with the full weight of his body. But his lips met mine nonetheless, and reality slammed into me as hard as his tongue.
I kissed him. I kissed him with all my being, with everything I had. It didn’t matter how sore I felt or how worn I was from the depletion of my magic. His taste was on my lips, and I couldn’t do anything less but take it all.
“Liva,” he warned as I dragged my fingertips down his exposed spine all the way to the firm curve of his ass. The scent of his skin washed over me, small droplets of water that clung to him falling upon my own naked form.
I tightened my grip on his ass and met the ferocity of his hungry gaze, letting him read the resolve pooling in mine.
I didn’t want him to be cautious. I wanted to be consumed by the spiraling winds of his wilderness and the fierce storm of his lust.
Acknowledging my desire, Cian lowered his body onto mine, the rigid length of his erection pressing between my thighs. He smelled like pine and spring as I buried my head in the nook between his neck and shoulder, then traced the gentle line of his pulse, lightly grazing his tattooed skin with my teeth. A groan shook his entire frame, and I spread my legs wider, needing to feel the thickness of him sheathed inside the molten heat of my core. Needing to be reunited with my mate in the most primal of ways.
Cian nudged at my entrance, teasing me, tempting me, playing a dangerous, dangerous game. I smiled into his shoulder and intercepted the shift of his hips so that he pushed past my folds and buried himself inside me as deeply as I could take him.
We both cried out then, our voices shattering the silence of the spacious chamber. I was wet with desire, the low ache instantly building up as he thrusted, over and over again, the sweet sensation of friction our bodies created bringing me ever closer to the edge. His heated kisses touched my neck, my cheeks, my lips, his purple eyes blazing with fire as he looked down at me, witnessing all the love I willed to irradiate my gaze—the promise that I would be his forever.
A maddening cry of desire, of hunger and need exploded from my lips, and Cian slid one arm beneath me as I wrapped my legs around his waist in a yearning to feel more of him. He lifted me effortlessly off the mattress and steadied me as I lowered myself onto his lap so that I could ride his hard, thick length that throbbed inside me. He grew even larger under the sweet pressure of my assault, my mind nearly shattering at how good he felt. How right.
I rotated my hips, accepting every fine inch of him while our lips were as tangled as were our bodies, our very souls.
We moved in a wild rhythm until I was slick with the unbearable urge for release and Cian’s own breath started to falter. My fingers tangled in the purple strands of his hair as he pushed into me one last time, filling me so perfectly, so completely that the world around me broke, and we tumbled down onto the mattress, riding the sweet aftershock of orgasm as one.
“Do you really intend to go?” Cian asked.
I ate the last of the strawberries he’d brought to the bedroom while I indulged in the divine pleasure of a hot shower to give my energy levels another boost.
Although his words were gentle, he couldn’t hide just how displeased he was by my plan. Not that I could blame him. But it wasn’t like I had much of a choice, either.
“I have to, Cian. She’ll never leave me alone if I don’t. And,” I added before he could object, “I’d rather not have the Bitch Queen’s blood on my or your hands. It would only be the beginning, not the end. I think neither of us has any true desire to start a silent war with the Shadow World.” I placed my hand on his. “And even if we could hide in Faery… Cian, you know I want nothing more than to be your High Lady, but that doesn’t mean I plan to just give up on my world, either. I like it there. And, I think, in the proper company, you’d like it too.”
/> Cian snorted, yet mirth touched the corners of his eyes. “A High Lady running an antique shop? That would certainly be a first…”
“I figured it wouldn’t be so much of a shock compared to having a half demon High Lady.” I grinned, but my smile faltered as a particular memory came back to me.
Cian’s body was instantly attentive, his gaze searching my face.
I traced my somewhat shaky fingers down his cheek, my voice soft as I asked, “My clothes from the fight—where are they?”
He looked at me for a long second, then waved his hand. A pile of bloodied, tattered garments appeared on the floor before me. I unwrapped the small towel from my head, letting my wet locks loose, and went over to search the clothes. I didn’t want to use my magic to pry the object out from the pocket since I needed every damned ounce of it for my upcoming visit with dear old Mum, so the task took an almost preposterously long time with the thickness of the towel now wrapped around my fingers. But somehow I managed to get the ring out without it touching my skin.
Since I indisputably was in an emotional state, I had absolutely zero desire to glimpse anything in case my still unstable magic lashed out—or infuse it with my presence. It simply felt wrong to embed even the faintest memory. Not when I knew what it already carried.
A shiver ran down my spine, but I knew stalling would do little good—for either of us. So, with the heirloom secured in the soft fabric, I turned to Cian and extended my hands.
His gaze fell on the delicate gold band, the mesmerizing purple as dark as a stormy sky when he recognized to whom the ring had belonged.
“How?” His gaze met mine, anger and pain crashing together in violent waves that all but broke my heart.
I sat down on the bed next to him, placed the towel in his lap, then entwined my fingers with his. “I found a demon. In the manor. I felt his presence when I was looking for you, and the entire time, I couldn’t figure out what the fuck a demon would be doing in a court that hunted his kind. It was almost as if they were concealing him, but I sensed no indication that they were holding him captive, either. It made no sense. All I knew was that there was a tight sensation in my gut, telling me I was missing something vital. Then again, I wasn’t exactly thinking straight…
“It was only when I saw you in that chamber that I remembered. I remembered what you told me about your parents. And I knew I had to make sure. I tracked him down after we parted. He was—he was just so wrong, the epitome of the nightmares demons are made out to be. I could feel his desire for blood, that murderous streak that revealed he would stop at nothing as long as he got his kill. Even if it meant working for a Fae. But he underestimated me.” I gave Cian a small smile. “I may not have spent much time in the Shadow World, but I knew well enough that someone like that would take trophies. But even more so, I heard your mother’s ring.”
Cian’s fingers wrapped around the delicate gold band, and I cupped his hand with mine. Lovingly. Protectively.
“Gearoid hired him and three others to murder your parents,” I whispered. “He wanted the compact gone, but with the blood bond preventing any Fae from his court to attack, he turned to a race least likely to be traced back to him. Not when they had such a long history of animosity.” I blinked away my tears. “The memory is there, in the ring. I know that the brothers are dead, and I cut down one of the killers, but if you want…I can merge with the vision again. Perhaps even show it to you through our bond. And we can hunt the rest down together.”
“Thank you,” he rasped, his voice a haunting harmony of gratitude and sorrow. “Thank you.”
I pulled him to me, unable to stand even this small distance between us. Cian nestled his head in my embrace, and I cradled him, letting the soft strokes of my fingers give him the safety no words ever could.
With me, he could be vulnerable.
Because no matter what the cost, I would always protect him.
Chapter 33
The Sword of Ala was sizzling in my hand as I stood before my mother, her loyal subjects lining the walls of the darkened chamber. They stuck to their particle forms, invisible to the eye, but I had no difficulties sensing their presence. Their number was far grander than during my initial visit, making me think dear old Mum had spread the word about just what she was about to receive. Show off.
The bitch in question was reclining in her throne, the mist that supported her body swaying languidly, with solitary tongues licking the air. But so were the ones by my feet.
I smiled inwardly, enjoying the small satisfaction of my own display of power. At least there was no question from whom I got the trait.
Yelena watched me with her golden eyes, taking in the skin-tight black pants and iron-enforced shirt I pulled on when I emerged in my lair a couple of minutes ago. Coming here in royal Fae clothing certainly wouldn’t do.
My mother’s gaze lingered on the beautiful, potent wisps of black mist that were climbing up my calves, before she shifted her attention to the thunderous surface of the blade in my hands. The Sword of Ala crackled with lightning, thoroughly displeased by my mother’s interest. I almost laughed at her repulsion, at her firm resolve that I was her true master.
In all honesty, she had grown on me, too.
While giving her up wasn’t something I did lightly, it was part of the bargain. But I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t let her go until the very end. For sentiment and safety alike.
I lifted my chin just a bit higher and gave my mother a pointed stare. She might enjoy dragging these things out, but I sure as fuck wanted to get it over as soon as possible.
Yelena smiled coldly, almost as if reading my thoughts. “Battle suits you, Liva.”
It didn’t surprise me that the Queen Bitch knew exactly what I’d been up to.
“I haven’t succeeded in convincing you to reign in the Shadow World, but it seems that despite your foolish cowering from power, you now have a court of your own to rule, High Lady.”
That was another thing I had expected. Yelena was going through my checklist like a champ, her observance and knowledge living up to expectations.
“Yeah, yeah”—I waved my free hand—“I’ve heard enough talk about running from my greatness lately to last me a fucking lifetime.”
The coldness of Yelena’s smile faltered as amusement seeped into her features, but she quickly snuffed it out, transforming back into the snake that she was. “And how did your High Lord take your decision to hand over the hallow to demonkind?”
“He tried convincing me not to go.” I shrugged. “But even his will couldn’t overpower the inborn stubbornness. A fact that you’re well aware of.”
“Ah, then let’s relieve him of his torment and send you into his arms as fast as we can, shall we?” she drawled, her fingers wrapping around the dark mist of the throne. “Present the relic.”
“No.”
Everything stilled. Even the pulsating energy coming from the gathered demons seemed to freeze as Yelena and I locked gazes.
My mother arched one perfect eyebrow. “No?”
“No,” I replied calmly, almost terrifying myself by how much I sounded like her. “You were right before. I have risen to power and bear the title of High Lady.” I paused, back held straight and shoulders squared. “The hallow is mine, Mother. It belongs to my court. Not yours.”
Fire burned in the vivid gold of her eyes, and raw energy rippled down her skin. I sent my own magic to hover just over the surface, displaying all that I’d become, as well as the silent threat I fully intended to act on. There was no chance in all the realms I’d let her intimidate me into handing over the Stone. But she could fight me for it.
The Sword of Ala backed up my resolve, sending thunder to crash beneath the ceiling and to pool in the corners, waiting to be released at my command. One last stand. For both of us.
A single vine of translucent energy snaked from the throne and brushed against the dark mist around my feet, testing the strength of my magic. I allowed her to probe and
taste. Needed her to see for herself that I wasn’t fucking around. Not any longer.
My gaze never left hers as we had our silent standoff, my body ready to pounce at the smallest sign of an impending attack. The entire time I kept a portion of power on our audience. I certainly wouldn’t put it beneath her to send her minions after me until all there was left for her to do was pick up the sword from my cold, dead fingers and gloat over my corpse.
But instead the Queen Bitch did the one thing I hadn’t imagined even in my wildest dreams.
She laughed.
She laughed—a pure, melodic sound that swept through the room, silencing the low rumble of thunder with its radiant amusement. Its joy. Its pride.
I narrowed my eyes at her and, for the first time in my twenty-six years, I was totally lost and unable to read her. Yelena’s chestnut hair bounced as her entire body shook, one hand gently touching her throat while the other rested across her flat stomach.
Crazy.
There was no other explanation.
The bitch was crazy.
My magic still kept me wrapped in a protective cocoon, responding to my wariness. Yet despite the oddness of the situation, I didn’t feel any hint of danger coming from Yelena. She was as lethal as ever. Only not to me.
“What?” I finally snapped.
Her gold eyes fell on my face, and I saw something there that scared me more than any torment or cruel game the Bitch Queen could devise.
A mother’s love.
“You were always defiant, Liva. Even as a child. But all your efforts had been made in the name of light while you shut the darkness out. I left you in peace when you decided to open up your shop, to aid strangers for far too low a price. I could have forced your obedience, chained you to my side if need be. But compliance makes you weak. Anything I could have done would have turned you weak,” she spat the word, her delicate shoulders shuddering from the undoubtedly highly offensive idea of lacking a spine. “I was left with nothing but hope that you would at least be more like Lana—assertive in your abilities, all of them, if the level of Lena’s immersion in the Shadow World seemed too grave for you to bear. And yet you stuck to your stubborn ways, facing the risk of madness instead of dipping into the power you have been gifted through my blood.
