Page 69 of The Seer

At least he wasn’t throwing her into an orgasmic apocalypse—wait a minute! Why the hell was she complaining anyway? What woman?—

“Have you forgotten your beloved Fintan already?”

Shit. He was going to kill her.

“The boy’s in love. He’ll not harm a single hair on your head.”

“Boy?” she asked aloud with a scoff. “He’s going to kick puppies. He hates being called a boy.”

Ardghal grinned.

“Is it getting lighter in here? How am I able to see your face?” she asked.

With a tilt of his chin, he gestured in front of them. Taryn had been so focused inward on their conversation, she’d missed the underground pool.

Tucked beneath a blanket of moss, the grotto shimmered like something stolen straight out of a dream, or a really bougie spa commercial with better lighting. The air was cooler, holding onto the dampness caused by the pool. And the water was a sight to behold. It wasn’t just clear, itglowed. Not in an aggressive, neon nightclub kind of way, but soft and ethereal, as if the moonlight had decided to take a dip.

The bottom was smooth and likely made the pool deceptively deep. Boulders lounged like ancient sentinels, and their edges were kissed by a silvery luminescence that pulsed, as if the grotto itself was breathing. If magic had a favorite hideout, this would be it—private, pretty, and dangerous enough to make a person’s pulse skip. It’s the sort of place where visions blur with memories, and the water hums in a minor key when Sirens get too close. Instant atmosphere. Just what a musical muse might order.

And although her elemental magic felt heightened, Tayrn had a strange sense she shouldn’t be there. Like this place was too magical for a mere witch, and it might tempt her to do terrible things.

Peter stopped by the pool’s lip, his back to them, and he appeared as mesmerised as she was.

Part of her wanted Ardghal to put her down so she could dive beneath the surface and explore every last rock. And speaking of those rocks, they lit up brighter than bottled starlight. With every step closer, another sigil appeared, signaling Taryn’s pulse to accelerate. The water pulsed with a rhythm too close to her racing heartbeat, as if the grotto had been waiting for its Siren all along.

Still holding her against his too broad chest, Ardghal hovered at the edge, and the glow from the pool painted silver-blue on the undersides of his throat and the sharp line of his jaw. He was otherworldly.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered through a suddenly parched throat. “This is all kinds of wrong.”

His gaze snapped to hers, as if he’d forgotten she was present and was startled to see her. With the slightest shake of his head, he turned his attention back to the water.

“Ya have to be here, girl. Ardghal needs your magic.”

Taryn’s heart stalled right along with her lungs, and her bowels were close to becoming liquid, too. She struggled against the Siren’s hold. Fighting his granite chest and arms was all but useless, but she wasn’t going down like a helpless heroine in a forties movie.

“Be still, woman!”

She froze. Whether compelled or in fear, she couldn’t say, but she wasn’t taking chances with an irritated seven-foot creature able to drop razor-sharp incisors and sprout claws in a blink. When she could regain use of her limbs and manage somehow not to scream her terror, she touched his jaw.

“Please don’t do this, Ardghal. You said you loved me. That’s not stealing my magic and leaving me for dead.”

He quirked a brow.

She dropped her arm.

“Yeah, I can see how that might work for psychos, but you don’t strike me as the lunatic type.” Taryn gave him a sickly smile. “I mean, sure, I haven’t known you long, but you seem like a good guy. Kind. Generous with orgasms.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled, and those hypnotic orbs glowed with laughter.

Feeling foolish, she glanced at Peter, who was staring at her like she’d just escaped the loony bin and was still bound in a straitjacket.

“What are ya on about, girl?” He shook his head. “Today’s youth,” he said in disgust.

Maybe she’d streamed one too many episodes of the popular stalker show. The guy’s love interests tended to end up in a clear box in the basement or dead. And after Morcant, perhaps Taryn was leery of men claiming to love her.

“I should’ve killed him,” Ardghal growled.

Would it have been an easy feat for him to kill an Arcane Devourer? The fantasy was nice. A shiver took her, but it wasn’t sexual. It was one of appreciation for a protector, which was odd since she’d painted him with a potential-serial-killer brush.

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