Page 33 of The Vanishing Throne

I can’t breathe. As if sensing my response, Kiaran curls an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against him. I’m startled by it. Kiaran isn’t affectionate. Before our first kiss, he always kept his distance. He only ever touched me in combat.

His words ring in my head, and each one slices through my gut.Not just Scotland not just Scotland not just—

I pull away from Kiaran. I can’t handle his touch, not now. Not when I wish my vengeance would rise. The Violent Aileana from the mirrors would have gone out for a kill. She would have torn out their hearts and loved doing it.

But she’s been buried by something even more dangerous: guilt. Because I was supposed to save them. That was my task. I failed them all, and now they’ve paid the price.

‘I didn’t think there could be anywhere worse than the place Lonnrach kept me,’ I say numbly. ‘I was wrong.’

I know a thing or two about prisons, and this one may not be a locked, cramped room of mirrors, but it’s no different. It’s still a cage. This one is built with the bones of the dead.

A single, harsh thought directed at Kiaran flickers across my mind before I can stop it:You saved me from one prison without realising you were putting me right into another.

Kiaran stares down at me and I swear he reads my mind. He abruptly steps away. ‘We’ll stop here. I’ll find us a place to rest for the night.’He turns on his heel and stalks off, as if he can’t get away from me fast enough.

Now I see why Kadamach wanted me to move heaven and earth to find you.

I almost call him back, but the words die on my lips. I watch him walk away as guilt settles heavy inside of me.

After a while, Kiaran returns and leads us to a building with a roof left partially intact.

Inside, the second-floor ceiling has collapsed onto the old, dusty stone floors. The carpets on the ground level are covered in mud and dirt. Clothes are strewn about, moth-eaten and dirty.

I find a spot to lie down. I press my cheek against my arm, pulling my coat tight around me.

I’ve never stayed in such meagre conditions. At the end of a hunt, I always returned to a warm bed in an immaculate house. There were always clean sheets, a fire, and my inventions to stave off my nightmares. I washed the blood off my clothes and went right back to the comfort of my ladylike life– as easy as changing coats.They were soothing, those rituals. My home was always safe. My room was always safe. After all that happened, I counted on that. I depended on it. I took for granted that it would always be there.

Now there is no safe space. There are simply safe hours spent in the ravaged shelters where the dead once lived.

I watch Kiaran lead the horses inside, their hooves clicking against the stone as they move to stand opposite me.

Kiaran’s gaze meets mine, but I shut my eyes and turn my back. I pretend to be asleep, even as his words fill my mind.Not just Scotland.

I press my fingers to my scars, my new nightly ritual. And I remember. I remember safety. I remember warmth. I wrap those memories around me like an old blanket and bask in the comfort of them. They’re all I have left.

I wake later to the warmth of fire and the scent of burning wood. I’m surprised I managed to fall asleep, but I was exhausted after all the fleeing and fighting with Aithinne.

I open my eyes to find Kiaran sitting next to me, feeding more wood into the flames. He has put together a makeshift pit with stone from the surrounding buildings. A small stack of firewood is piled next to it.

‘Where’s Aithinne?’ I ask.

‘Out scouting the area.’ Kiaran glances at me. ‘We heardsluagha few hours ago.’

Sluagh. I’ll never forget the time one of those creatures went through me, a ghostly presence invading my body and sheathing my insides with ice. Kiaran told me that when the Seelie and Unseelie kingdoms were still standing,sluaghwere the perfect aerial spies – quick, efficient, and brutally destructive if they needed to be.

‘Why didn’t you wake me?’

‘Because’ – Kiaran nudges the fire with a stick, sendingcinders up into the air – ‘you never rest, even when you should. When was the last time you slept?’

I don’t remember. I didn’t sleep in the mirrored room so much as … lie there. In a constant state between sleep and awake and dreaming.

When I don’t answer, Kiaran says, ‘I thought so.’

I sit up to smooth my hair, wrestling back the rebellious copper curlswith a scrap of twine left discarded on the ground. After some success, I shift closer to the fire, stopping only when I realise my thigh is now touching Kiaran’s.Damn.

Instinctively, my thumb presses against one of the marks at my wrist. I remember precisely how his lips feel. I counted the seconds of our kiss. I memorized the pressure.

Aoram dhuit.His whispered words flutter like moth wings across my mind.I will worship thee.

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