Page 122 of The Forever Queen

Aisling pressed closer to him.

“Then have me,” she said, her body leaning into him so every part of them touched. She needed him to reach out and hold her. To fold his arms around her and bring her close. To bring his lips to hers and taste the desire sticky on her tongue.

Still, Lir resisted, his body as hard as stone before her. Her fires raged, melting the candles to puddles throughout the tower. The trees inside groaned, bending and warping the shingled roof of the turret.

“I cannot,” Lir said between clenched teeth. “My oath is binding.”

“I don’t understand,” Aisling said.

“You will,” Lir whispered.

Aisling shook her head. “Serve me then. Serve me and break the oath you promised.”

“I cannot,” Lir repeated, grimacing as if in agony.

“Then you break another oath!” Aisling shouted this time, herdraiochtswelling inside her throat till she believed it might burst. She needed to remember. She needed to understand what’d dug its claws into her memory and scraped away at her heart.

“I’d cut out my tongue to be your liar,” Lir said. “I’d forsake all that I once pursued or chased. I’d condemn both realms to keep you,” Lir said, his voice growing rough as he spoke. “Unless you are the cost of it.”

Aisling paled, herdraiochtgrumbling awake and smoking from the nostrils.

“You refuse me,” she said, her voice hard and jagged. “You refuse me when you alone bear the power to release me from this disease of the mind. You’ve bewitched me and so, you shackle me and imprison me in this cavern of ignorance.”

Lir flinched as if physically struck. The sage of his eyes bled with grief and raw compassion. As if he understood the years of solitude pacing the corridors of Castle Neimedh, the days shut behind iron doors, or the banquet of lies her clann fed her since she was a bairn. The secrets that’d left Aisling alone and wandering in the dark.

Aisling turned, ripping herself from the Sidhe king. She started for the door, eager to distance herself so she could stew in her frustration alone.

Anduril hummed with triumph.

Lir grabbed Aisling’s wrist just before she stepped out of reach. Lithely, he spun her toward him and before Aisling could protest, he brought his mouth to hers.

His left hand reached round her waist and firmly pressed her against him. His right hand cupped her jaw, tilting her chin up so his kiss could deepen. Aisling stiffened, flushed, and held her breath, her flesh, prickling with the needles of fate sewing madly.

Aisling’sdraiochtpulsed with energy, kindled by Lir’s magic interlacing with her own. Herdraiochtroared, clicking its bones as it unfurled and rose onto its hind legs. Herdraiochtshot forth from her soul, lighting her in flame.

The fire grew outside of Aisling’s control, crawling atop Lir and swathing them both in her violet magic. Yet, Lir never hissed nor reeled in pain. Instead, he held her more tightly, fingers sliding from her jaw and into her hair. His kiss, both hungry and possessive. They were a comet, smoldering in the mouth of Lir’s tower.

Aisling gasped, appraising Lir. Usually, if the Sidhe king touched her flames, he burnt. Here and now, their magic mixing like a cauldron’s brew, he lit flame alongside her, flowers growing between each of their curls simultaneously. An ancient, hallowed ritual taking place as Lir kissed her again: the fog that’d cloaked Aisling’s mind, lifting.

An oath is kept and an oath is broken, the Other howled in the storm winds.

Stop, please, please, Anduril screamed, bleeding her once more.

Her memories, freshly polished, were suddenly bright and clear in her mind. They slipped from the darkness they’d been hidden in, rising again as richly as they’d once thrived. Aisling exhaled into Lir, tears blooming from her eyes with relief.

Lir kissed her more thoroughly, picking her up and holding her tightly. Every kiss, sucking Anduril’s influence from her veins like a snake’s venom expunged from the body.

The Sidhe king stroked the back of her thighs, turning and pressing her against the wall of the tower where he once stood. He brought his mouth to her neck, kissing her deeply and as his mouth traveled, his fangs scraped the soft edge of her throat.

Aisling shivered, her body moving against him slowly with a will of its own. He cursed, matching her movements and tasting her lips. He ran his hands up her dress and took hold of her bare legs. His abdomen tightening as he thrusted, hips rubbing against the inside of her thighs.

Aisling sucked in a sharp breath, tangled her fingers in his hair while her back arched into him. Lir groaned, slipping his hands further up her slip until they held her waist on either side. Aisling pushed the remaining fabric aside and unbuckled his belt. Every kiss, expanding their lungs with more power than they knew how to control. They blazed, flooding the room with flame and flowers till the tower shone like a star. The Other, thumping with the rhythm of a drum as Lir entered her.

He held her steady by the waist, pushing and pulling against her. His jaw clenched, every muscle cording in his body while his head threw back. Both their eyes, reflecting the outcomes of omens, of prophecies, of the future yet told. Pleasure, wracking them both through as their hunger accelerated—their combined power rising to a crescendo.

Aisling reached out, grabbing whatever was close by for support.

Stop, please, Anduril shouted. This time, the belt gripped her as tightly as it was capable, forcing a scream from her lips.

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