Page 123 of The Forever Queen

Aisling reached for the belt and its clasp. She hesitated a second, meeting Lir’s eyes.

Aisling ripped Anduril from her body.

No, Anduril shrieked, its voice already melting into the memory of the Forge.

Its possession rid Aisling of her strength but also its curse. Her body flared with herdraiocht, she and Lir a combined comet of fire and flowers, joining into one.

Lir acknowledged Anduril on the floor only briefly before returning his full attention to Aisling. He moved more quickly, harder, possessively filling her with each stroke. His breath heavy and his chest glistening with both their sweat combined.

The omens, the prophecies, and the curses, taking shape as they intertwined. As they braided theirdraiochtand fed off the other’s obsession. Pleasure vibrating through both their bodies in great pulses of pure satisfaction.

She loved him unequivocally. Tragically. Hopelessly. Whether it be destiny that compelled her heart or herself, she knew not. Perhaps she’d never know. She only knew that whatever breaths remained in her body would be spent loving those she cared for most. And there was no greater adventure, no greater purpose, and no greater power. Her pursuit for everything was completed the moment she handfast the nightmare before her.

CHAPTER L

AISLING

Spun in a spider’s cocoon, Aisling screamed, chafing her bare flesh against the needle-thin, ivory threads when she squirmed.

“One, two, three.” The Lady laughed to herself in the dark. “One, two, three, here we come.”

Aisling tore the cocoon apart with her teeth, ripping herself free, thread by thread.

“One, two, three, here we come,” the Lady repeated, as she emerged from the darkness. A grotesque colossus of a spider, reflecting Aisling’s violet eyes from the eight, beady orbs of its eyes. Blade sharp legs, clicking as she approached.

“One, two, three, here we come. Here we come. Here we come. Here we come.”

Aisling screamed, gums red with her blood, sliced by the threads she desperately tore with her teeth.

CHAPTER LI

AISLING

When the Other snored beneath the highest stars, Aisling woke beside Lir. Her heart fluttered, her stomach knotted, and her mind spun, her body resisting the urge to wake him and let him enter her once more. But there was no time.

Lir held her tightly in his sleep, so Aisling slipped from his arms carefully not to wake him. She tiptoed out of the fae king’s rooms and wandered Castle Yillen’s halls.

That evening, a gown lay waiting for Aisling atop her pelts. Bane-black, the dress was breathtaking, whispering like a chorus of shadows to be worn. Aisling held up the gown,ellwynpetals slipping off its folds the moment the sorceress raised it.

“Mo Damh Bánhad it made for you beforeImbolc,” Gilrel said.

A murder of silver-eyed ravens took flight in Aisling’s stomach, admiring the gown more closely. Ribbons of black hugged the bodice of the dress, cut flatteringly beneath the breasts. Sigh-soft pleats of sheer chiffon wrapped around its center till they reached the deep, drop waist “v” at the hips; the same delicate material of her sleeves, beginning below the shoulder. Both sleeves hugged the arms, flaring at the elbows and sweeping the floors, the grass, the lakes. A gown of this beauty should taste them all at least once. And from the hipline, the skirts spilled like ink to the floor.

“No armor?” Aisling asked.

Gilrel shook her head. “No,mo Lúra. Only Sarwen. To wield the Goblet, you’ll only need what’s inside.” Gilrel placed a paw to her heart. “Let me help you dress.”

Aisling slipped into the gown, aided by the pine marten’s diligent fingers. Her handmaid laced up the back, strapped Sarwen to her gown, and dabbed her lips with crushed cherries.

Aisling took one last glance at herself before exiting her chambers. Her violet eyes were rimmed with red and her cheeks hollow—a wolf’s bite in her expression.

And so, the moment Gilrel slipped out the door, Aisling secretly did as well.

Barefoot, Aisling relished the cool stone beneath her feet.

Aisling hugged the Goblet of Lore between her arms, careful not to spill a drop as she traveled.

She held her breath as she snuck past the guards, as she tiptoed past the toads sleeping in the library, and skulked past winged Sidhe yet to find their chambers for the evening.

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