Page 27 of Beltane

“Beltane,” Donnelly spoke up. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

Siobhan turned to face him. “You have a better idea?”

He shrugged. “The woods are going to be…rowdy.”

She snorted. “I would have thought you’d be excited about a party before a battle.”

He curled his lips into a smile. “I’m not saying that. It’s just…” Donnelly glanced at me and my spouses before going back to the banshee. “Well, some of us didn’t exactly keep a sober mind at the last fire festival.”

I tried not to be insulted. We’d been drugged and cursed by Siobhan. We couldn’t be held accountable for our actions.

“It doesn’t matter,” Siobhan said. “It might be the last time we get to make such a mistake.” She glanced back at us with a somber smile. “Smoke ’em if you got ’em. And for goodness’ sake, stay together, yeah?”

But my heart sank into my stomach.

It might be the last time we get to make such a mistake.

The question balanced on the tip of my tongue, poised to spill over. What was the likelihood of us walking out of this alive? What were the odds we make it out of Faerie ever again?

But in that split second, I decided I didn’t want to know. My luck was telling me to have faith, to believe things would work out. And it hadn’t steered me wrong this far.

“So?” Siobhan asked. “Anyone got a spare plane lying around?”

Ivy and Miri looked to Lex, who clenched his eyes shut and sighed.

9

Lex

Within two hours, Ivy and I had rented a charter to Dublin International. This time of night and this late in the game, the only thing available was the most expensive option. The fucking thing had once belonged to the emperor of some small shithole country with a GDP less than my trust fund. Housing four bedrooms, a kitchen, and a main cabin fit to host a goddamned ball, it had obviously cost a small fortune, but what’s an inheritance compared to saving the world, am I right?

We strategized the entire ride to the airport, trying to figure out a countermove to anything we could encounter. Finn and Donnelly were masterminds, and with Siobhan and Carter’s added gut feelings, we had a pretty good plan. It wasn’t agreatplan, but what the fuck did I know about bringing down a fairy king?

I’d tried and I’d failed, and I didn’t know what I was talking about anymore.

Sometime around 2 a.m., everyone had gone to their rooms in the back of the plane, determined to get some rest before the final showdown. But I sat on a sofa in the luxurious main cabin, chain-smoking while I stared out at the stars in the vast darkness of space. They twinkled in the clear night sky, almost mocking me.

You thought you could have it all,they said.What a selfish prick.

I kept imagining the scream Ivy’s sister, Abigail, let out when she realized Jon and Kit were gone. I replayed the sound of the king’s smoky tendrils ticking against the glass windows at Mount Vernon, sending shivers through each of my nerve endings. I saw Miri’s tearful gaze when she showed up on our doorstep, frail and broken and terrified. Whatever he’d done to her, it was the last straw.

He’d used our love against us, and for that, I would tear his heart out of his chest while he watched. I didn’t care if the lore said he was immortal. I didn’t care if it would kill the queen. This was the last time he’d fuck with any human whatsoever, and I’d find a way to make sure he knew it. Ivy and I alone had been able to force him out of Mount Vernon. She was right—what could we do when it was the four of us?

I didn’t buy Siobhan’s insistence that there would be a sacrifice. Like the prophecy about Poppy, Siobhan’s banshee instincts were subjective, which meant they couldn’t be trusted. I didn’t believe in divination. I was in charge of my own life, and if I didn’t want there to be a sacrifice, I would make sure there wasn’t. We would all make it out of this, and I would get to have that fantasy future I’d been envisioning since Midsummer four years ago.

Inhaling deeply on my cigarette, I leaned my head back on my shoulders and let out the smoke on a sigh, wishing sleep could claim me as easily as it had my spouses. Things were awkward between us, even if we’d all made our apologies. I guessed that was my fault.

I knew Miri’s separation would cause something terrible to happen. Lo and fucking behold, I was right. Again. Being that far away from us had created a vulnerability for Alberich to sneak through, and not that I blamed her for what he’d done to her, but I was furious she’d put herself in the position for it to happen.

If she’d just come home…if she’d just been with us…

But between me and these four walls, I understood that, too. I took another long drag on the smoke and recalled a younger version of myself, traumatized by a father that wished I’d died instead of my brother. It was easy to push people away because it meant they’d never hurt me. It took me a long time to realize I wasn’t the problem. I imagined it might take Miri just as long.

But wishing for it never changed the past, did it? Not with Miri, and not with Marcus.

An enormous hole opened in my chest where my brother’s memory had scarred over. I thought time traveling with Poppy to see him again was bad enough, but to learn it was Alberich’s fault he’d died in the first place twisted agony through my gut and into my chest. I nearly doubled over from it.

If we hadn’t gone to Killwater, if we hadn’t built the wall of thistles, Marcus might still be alive.

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