Page 152 of Throne of Dreams
The guards stopped in their tracks and shared a look of disdain. Of remorse. The female Autumn guard had been right, theycouldbe swayed. They would fight for her instead. All she had to do was ask.
Garvan spun on them, furious. “You do not obeyher! You obeyme!”
The guards glanced between her and her brother, hesitating, torn between duty to their High Prince and trusting the one they knew to be their High Princess.
Maeve inched herself higher. She was at the ledge, teetering between two stakes. All she had to do was jump. Mist cooled her cheeks and froze her fingers, but she held on, refusing to let go. “Perhaps they no longer wish to follow the demands of a monster.”
He rushed her then and tried to pry her off the railing. Maeve kicked her foot out, but he dodged it and reached for her arm, wrenching it away from the railing.
Maeve screamed as the tip of one of the stakes skewered her arm. Glancing down, she realized the spear had driven straight through. Blood soaked through her blouse and coated her leathers. Spasms of pain ricocheted up and down her arm, her bicep throbbed, and her knees weakened. He stumbled back, gaping at her. Sucking in a deep breath, she did the only thing she could do.
She jerked her arm upward, yanking it clean off the stake.
It was then, when her piercing cry of agony filled the air and warm blood gushed from her arm, that the Autumn guards attacked their High Prince. Maybe they hated Garvan that much. Or perhaps their loyalty and love for Fianna had never wavered. Or maybe…maybe they believed in Maeve and her cause to save the Four Courts, to protect Faeven from Parisa’s wrath. Whatever their motives, they showed no mercy as they brought her brother to his knees. They were on him faster than she could blink, tearing him away from the railing, tackling him to the slick ground. Two of them held him down while he thrashed, shouting obscenities, while the third twisted his arms behind his back, locking his hands and feet into manacles.
It was a valiant attempt. But Garvan was Archfae and those cuffs would not hold him for long.
As if sensing her train of thought, one of the guards carefully approached her. “They’re iron, my lady.”
Iron.
She thought the metal had some sort of adverse effect on fae. It muted their magic, dulled it, drained it. She was certain she’d read about it somewhere before, in one of her many books. A wave of dizziness swept over her and the Autumn guards standing before her blinked in and out of her vision. She was losing too much blood. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be unconscious before she hit the water.
“She’ll find you!” Garvan shouted, even as another guard pinned him to the ground, smashing the side of his face into the damp stone. “Not a day will pass where she won’t be hunting you down!”
“Maybe so,” Maeve muttered, clutching her arm to her chest. “But not today.”
Her balance wavered and wobbled, and she almost lost her grip.
“High Princess, wait!” One of the guards bolted toward her. He raised his arms, offering to help her down. “You’re injured!”
She shook her head and nearly blacked out. The one bar she held onto was ice in her hand. Numbness was taking over and slowly her fingers uncurled from around it. “Your rightful heir will return.”
“But you are—”
“Dorian lives,” she cut him off before he could ask her the one thing she wouldn’t be able to give them. She couldn’t be their High Queen. Her heart belonged to another. Her soul was bound to another. And if she ever took a throne, it would be next to him, and him alone. “Aran…Aran is Autumn’s true heir.”
She cast one more look over the edge and her knees buckled.
Gods damn. The water was so far away. She shifted, preparing to jump, and her hand, the only lifeline to the railing, finally lost its grip. Maeve blinked and toppled toward the falls.
“Princess!”
But the Autumn soldier couldn’t save her. No one could save her. She was falling. Falling. Her consciousness was slipping. Down into the abyss she went, plunging into the cold depths of the falls. The shock of its freezing temperature jolted her body, and she convulsed against it. Darkness surrounded her. Empty and eternal.
Her mind cried out to him. For him.
“Tiernan!”
Maeve couldn’t see anything. She couldn’t feel anything. And then, there was nothing at all.
ChapterForty-Six
His name exploded through his thoughts, and Tiernan was on his feet. He’d heard her. He’d heard her in his mind. It must be through the bond, through the Strand binding them to one another. He’d never been able to hear the thoughts of anyone from such a distance before. Except for Maeve. She’d called out to him and there was nothing he could do. Panic cut through him, sharp enough to carve out his heart.
Something must have gone wrong.
His power surged, his magic raged. The destruction inside him started rising, clawing, begging for release. If Garvan touched her, harmed her in any way, he would walk through every circle of hell to bring her back.
