Page 141 of Throne of Dreams
In Tiernan’s arms, she let the darkness take her. In his arms, she let herself grieve.
She mourned all that had been taken from her. Kells, the land she once sought to rule, was no longer her home. She cried for her mortal heart, for the pieces of her humanity, the shredded scraps she clung to for fear that if she let go, she’d lose herself completely. She thought of Casimir and remembered that even though his betrayal cut far deeper than she could ever have imagined, he still came back for her. He took her from that dungeon beneath the palace in the Spring Court. Another stab of grief pierced her, and tremors overtook her as her mind drifted to Rowan. So often, his memory would haunt her dreams. She lost track of the number of moons when her nightmares crawled back to terrorize her and forced her to relive the rain of swords all over again. He’d protected her. Saved her. Died for her.
She’d never been given the chance to say goodbye.
Tiernan held her tighter, crushed her naked body against him. His clothing was soaked from the water in the tub and bubbles clung to his arms, but he didn’t let go. He would never let her go.
His song, it spoke to the very essence of her life. Overcome with shadows and suffering, Tiernan had stepped into the brilliance of what was left of her heart, offering his own to help hers mend.
So she took it. She let him pull her, bring her back, and in doing so, she faced all that she’d fought to ignore. It wasn’t just Shay’s death that ruined her. It was all of them. The tragic deaths of the mortals trapped within the Scathing, the ones Fearghal glamoured into dark fae. The guards in the Moors she used to fight alongside while training with Casimir. It was Rowan, with his lavender eyes and knowing smirk. It was even Garvan, how she focused on him to distract herself from losing the only family she’d ever known. And Shay…when the familial bond between them snapped and severed, it was as though the hand of death had reached inside and ripped her heart from her chest.
She never wanted to experience that ever again.
But she would…when the god of death came for Tiernan.
Another choking sob escaped her, and Tiernan murmured soothing phrases to her in Old Laic. His left hand was wrapped around her middle, and he captured her cheek with his right, tilting her face to him.
“Talk to me,astora.”
Maeve bit her lip. “I think I’d prefer it if you just read my thoughts.”
The barest of smiles. “There’s no easy way out of this. You know it. I know it.”
Another wave of heartache slammed into her. Tears fell hot and fast down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them. She couldn’t stop anything.
“I thought my magic would be enough, but it’s not. I thought it would help fix all these broken pieces of me, but it can’t. I tried so hard to ignore everything, all I’ve been through. All I’ve suffered. I thought my power would help ease the hurt. But it doesn’t. And it won’t. Not ever. Will it?”
“No, Maeve. Magic is not a bandage to heal the wounds on our hearts.”
She looked up at Tiernan then. His words were so much like her own, and he would know. He’d made a deal for more power to avenge those he loved to heal his own heart, and it hadn’t been enough. But he was proof of overcoming the torment of the past.
He was right. Magic couldn’t heal the wounds on the inside. Power did nothing to soothe one’s suffering. Bandages didn’t last forever and yet he’d persevered. He was steadfast and sure. Confident. And Maeve knew he would always be there for her. He would catch her when she fell. When she couldn’t carry the weight of the world anymore, she knew he would pick her up. Lift her up.
There was no doubt in her mind that the memories of his past continued to cause him pain, but he’d managed to survive. He’d found his place in this world and for the first time in a long time, Maeve realized she’d found her place as well.
With him. Beside him. Always.
Her fingers curled around the necklace she’d forged from sunlight, the one in the shape of mountains and the rising sun—Summer’s crest. Tiernan’s Court. Her home.
She swallowed, forcing down the knot of emotion threatening to choke her. “Tiernan?”
His twilight gaze landed on her and held. His thumb brushed away a fallen tear. “Yes,astora?”
A quaking breath left her in a rush. “Tiernan, I love you.”
For a moment, he didn’t move. The look on his face was unreadable. His eyes were swirling with emotion, but he shuttered it away quickly. Then he bent down toward her, so his lips were barely a breath away from her own. “I love you too, Maeve.”
Their matching Strands glowed bright, crimson and gold. The mating bond between them sealed for eternity.
ChapterForty-One
“There has to be another way.”
Tiernan looked around the table at the solemn faces surrounding him. To his right, Maeve sat quietly, her eyes slightly red and puffy from all the tears she’d cried. Lir stood behind her, one hand placed protectively on her shoulder. Merrick was stewing in his own anger, his face the epitome of rage. And Brynn kept her head ducked down, unable to meet anyone’s gaze.
Garvan had learned Shay was supplying information to the Summer Court, and he used that knowledge to get to Maeve. Multiple sources confirmed they could hear Shay’s screams coming from outside the palace walls. Ceridwen rounded up a group of Summer warriors and when they went to investigate, they were overwhelmed by Autumn soldiers. They stormed the grounds, stole Ceridwen, and left Shay to die. Maeve’s sphere of protection held, but the assault took place outside of its boundaries, and no one was able to stop it.
Now it seemed, Garvan wanted a trade.
