Page 109 of Realm of Nightmares
“Fear not, Dawnbringer.” The Lord of the Hunt’s voice was steady. Calm. “Lucky for you, I know exactly why you’re here. I am fully aware that Faeven is on the brink of war with the former High Queen of Spring, Parisa.”
“Yes.” The word left her in a breathless rush. Yes,thatwas why she was so despairing, why she risked death. “So, you’ll help me?”
“No.”
Maeve blinked. Her gaze darted through the grand hall, landing back on the throne where the Lord of the Hunt sat only a second later. He did not jest. He did not torment. His expression was schooled into one of cool, even neutrality. “I’m sorry, did you sayno?”
His fingers tapped restlessly along the arms of obsidian. “Unfortunately, the Wild Hunt will not assist you.”
The punch of his words slammed into her chest, stealing the air from her lungs. All would be lost with their refusal. She could not allow him to deny her so easily.
Fisting her hands on her hips, she strode up to the dais, daring to meet him eye to eye. “And why not?” she demanded.
The air shuddered, the faintest of quakes. Still, he remained composed, albeit barely. “Areyouquestioningme?”
“Yes, I am.” Maeve would not back down, she would not cower. “I command you to—”
An implosion of wrath shook the halls of Diamarvh. The candles snuffed out completely, and the warmth evaporated from the air. The stars vanished, replaced by murderous clouds, splinters of lightning, and the sound of a thousand stallions stampeding across the night sky. Terror raked its invisible claws through the space, sending the huntsmen who’d once been seated at their tables falling into the strict lines of a spectral army.
This was Dubhan, the true Lord of the Hunt.
This was the famed warrior she’d expected to see.
His face twisted with raw fury, and his eyes burned like melted gold.
“Youdarecommand me? I have foretold the outcome of every war our worlds have ever seen. I fought, bled, anddiedso that the most ancient of the fae could live.” His callous voice boomed, exploding around her like tumbling boulders. “I am strife, I select the souls of the worthy to join my ranks, and I will not heed your pathetic demands.”
Fury ignited within her.
White hot, seething anger frothed to the surface, boiling over her. She was the epitome of resilience, of fortitude, of power. She’d been beaten, broken, destroyed. Yet each time she rose stronger, her brilliance far greater than that of the coming dawn. She would not be made to cower. To fear. She bowed before no one. She answered to no one.
I am the breath of life and I show mercy to no one.
Courage emboldened her.Her blood-right served her.
Maeve raised her chin and spoke through gritted teeth. “You will fight to save Faeven or you will answer to me.”
The Lord of the Hunt dropped onto his throne, pinching the bridge of his nose. His power ebbed, settling around them like a fine mist. “The tides of fate are not in your favor, Dawnbringer. Until they are, the Wild Hunt cannot save you and yours.”
Maeve crumbled, crestfallen.
She glanced around the grand hall, but none of the Wild Huntsmen would meet her eye. “So, that’s it then?”
He shrugged, dismissive.
Vexed beyond measure, Maeve curled her hand into fists. If the Wild Hunt would not help her, she’d find someone who would. “Is there an easier way to return to the House of Death, other than back through the Stygian Spine?”
“You know how tofade, don’t you?” The Lord of the Hunt smirked. “Or have you forgotten how to do that as well?”
“Fade? Of course I canfade, I—” Maeve’s mouth snapped shut. If she couldfadeback to the House of Death, then…
The Lord of the Hunt’s smile disappeared, understanding her train of thought. “There are multiple ways to get here, Dawnbringer. But you didn’t ask, did you?”
Her nails scoured her palms. Damn him. And damn Laurel for withholding such pertinent information.
“You are standing at the origin of your immortal existence. Do not fault yourself for such a simple mistake. Words will always have meaning, whether they are crystal clear or layered with innuendo, will be up to you to decide.” He stretched out his legs, his gaze never leaving her. “Trials are a way of life. They either break us or embolden us. But only you can choose whether to rise or fall.”
“Thanks for such sage advice,” she muttered, and he laughed softly.
