Page 107 of Song of the Dark Wood

Conor froze. That was alarming. If Charlie was dreaming, all the reapers would be. The problem was much worse than he’d thought.

“You could do so much with that power. It’s my job to protect you and there are things even I cannot save you from. This is your time. If not now,when?” Charlie pleaded. “Will you wait until the nightmare is stronger?”

The words stirred something cold and ancient in Conor, but he shoved it down.

“You’d have a ten-year-old guide spirits across the Dark Wood? Aeoife is still achild. I won’t have her terrified and walking through the Dark Wood with a group of spirits,” Conor said bitterly.

“What about the fifteen-year-old Maiden?”

Conor shook his head. “She’s gone.”

A crease formed in Charlie’s brow. “Dead?”

“No. Just gone. I know she’s out there, but she’s much farther away than Ballybrine.”

“I could hunt her down.”

Conor cocked a brow. “Have you not been trying to do that for years?”

Charlie threw up his hands, his eyes glowing. “I’m telling you, she’s magically protected somehow. Every time I think I have the trail, it slips away.”

They fell into a tense silence.

“I’ll go to meet the little one and guide her,” Charlie said. “It’s unorthodox, but there’s nothing preventing it.”

Conor shook his head. “I’m not going to devour Rowan. End of discussion. When she wakes up, I want her things packed, andthen you will take her back to Ballybrine, kicking and screaming if need be.”

“You know she’ll just come back. She’s the most stubborn Maiden ever,” Charlie groaned.

Conor sighed and walked to the window. There had to be a way to convince her. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass.

The answer came to him like a dagger to the heart. The only way to ensure that she stayed away would be to hurt her.

It was far from what he wanted. Centuries had taught Conor that clear communication was best, but Rowan was the type of wild that did not respond to reason. The only way he could attempt to keep her safe would be to keep her away.

“I will convince her. Don’t worry about it,” Conor sighed. “Go pack her things up. I have no idea how long she’ll sleep, but I want her out as soon as she’s awake.”

Charlie gathered the shattered tea set in a huff and left the room.

Conor gazed miserably from the spiderwebbed frost on the windows to Rowan asleep in the bed. Already her color looked better. Her cheeks were pink, and her lips, red and swollen from being well-kissed, were drawn up in a slight smile.

Mother slay me. She’s beautiful, he thought.

He was a fool to even risk taking her to bed. It appeared there was no end to his foolishness. When she woke, he’d give her up, but while she still slept, he wanted to hold her one last time.

Climbing into bed, he pulled her against him, burying his face in her neck. He breathed in her sweet lavender-vanilla scent and cursed the Mother, the elders, and magic itself. He cursed himself for tempting fate with his happiness.

27

ROWAN

Rowan blinked her eyes open. She was momentarily disoriented until the black curtains and dark red bedspread and the stacks of sheet music on the nightstand reminded her that she was in Conor’s music room. She stifled a laugh as she realized it had the look of a villain’s lair. It could do with some brightening.

She wanted to snoop, but first, she wanted him. The embers of desire still smoldered at the thought of his touch, but when she reached out, the bed was cold beside her.

She’d slept like the dead, heavy and dreamless and, judging by Conor’s absence, likely for a while. Her body was pleasantly sore, and she smiled, remembering the way it felt when Conor gave her control—his eyes full of awe. It was such a rush. It was ironic that she’d never felt more alive than when she was in the arms of death.

“Grand, you’re awake.”

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