Page 114 of Throne of Dreams

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She may have made a noise in response, but he couldn’t be sure, and he didn’t care because she was safe in his arms. And by the gods, he would die before he allowed her to see the havoc the Furies wreaked upon the soldiers of Kells.

Balor, the darkest night.

Tethra, the ending ruination.

Dian, the hand of death.

The screams were the worst. It was a sound unlike anything Tiernan had ever heard. He’d seen the Furies at the full extent of their capabilities, but this…the noise these mortals made…it was as though their very souls were being flayed open. It unnerved him down to his core. Then there was silence, worse even than when they first arrived at the Moors. The utter quiet was the sort he’d only ever experienced on the battlefield after tremendous loss, when the vultures circled overhead and the only sound heard was the trudging slop of footfalls from those sent out to collect the dead.

But no one would come for these men.

Hostility sank its claws into Tiernan’s back and he stiffened, his arms tightening around Maeve, as he came face to face with the Furies. He stared into the hollow faces of the men who were no longer the same ones who’d destroyed his world. They were how he remembered them, yet different. Their bodies were made of shadows, cloaking them completely. They hovered when they moved, as though their feet never touched the ground. But it was their faces that would etch and burn themselves into his nightmares for many moons to come.

Their faces were sunken, almost skeletal, with eyes that burned like embers of a banked fire. Veins of the same glowing color defined what little remained of their flesh and each of their foreheads bore the mark of a different rune representing their paths. Darkness. Destruction. Death.

Dian drifted forward, his blazing eyes zeroing in on Tiernan. “Unhand her.”

Tiernan shoved Maeve behind him. “Never.”

“No, don’t! He’s with me.” Maeve’s voice cracked and when he caught sight of her face, the fire of vengeance ignited inside him. Though the wound to the back of her thigh was already healing, her face was still brutally bruised and discolored as her cheek bones mended themselves while her bottom lip was crusted with dried blood. Her hand wrapped around his arm, gripping him, holding onto him like he was the only one who wouldn’t let her fall.

She trembled when she said, “That is to say, the High King of Summer is mine.”

The Furies shared a look and together they knelt before her.

“Maeve Ruhdneah, High Princess of the Autumn Court. Keeper of theanam ó Danua.Dawnbringer.” This from Balor, whose fiery gaze slid to Tethra.

“As we said once before, we answer only to you.” When Tethra spoke, even what remained of the trees trembled in fear. “But we will defend you…and yours.”

Silence enveloped them once more, and Tiernan found himself too stunned to speak. Not that he didn’t believe Maeve when she said the Furies would answer her call, he’d known even then she spoke true, but he had to admit, he hadn’t expected the depth of their vow.

After all, he was the reason they’d been banished from Faeven through death. He was the one who’d ventured to Maghmell, the eternal paradise, and pleaded to the goddess Danua for her assistance in defeating them and Carman. He was the one who was responsible for their ultimate demise.

To hear them agree to protect him as they would Maeve was unsettling.

She took a small step toward them, and it took all of Tiernan’s willpower not to haul her back to his side.

She raised her bloodied chin, wincing as she spoke. “I need your assistance.”

They rose before her.

“As I’m sure you’ve heard, Parisa is threatening all of Faeven. Her army of dark fae continues to grow.” Her shoulders rolled back, and she was incandescent. “I know while you were under Carman’s control, you were commanded to ruin the Four Courts. I would ask you to stand with me and defend the realm you once sought to destroy against a more sinister threat.”

Tiernan bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He was so fucking impressed by her. Maeve was the epitome of a queen.

She was born to rule.

Balor crossed a fisted hand over his chest and his brothers followed suit. “We will fight for you and all that you wish to protect, Your Grace.”

Maeve blinked. “I’m not—”

“You are.” Tiernan cupped her elbow, offering her his support.

“We’ve heard the rumors of your greatness.” Dian bowed. “Of how you single-handedly destroyed the Hagla. How you fought for those who were not your own.”

Balor spread his shadowy arms wide. “Such worthiness could only ever be found in a true faerie queen.”

Tethra nodded. “We pledge our lives unto you,moh Ríenna.”