Page 127 of Realm of Nightmares
“Lies,” Alastar hissed. “You think you can get inside my head? You intend to twist my thoughts, to save yourself and your stupid friend. Much like you”—he jerked his head toward Merrick’s unconscious body—“he didn’t know how to shut his mouth either.”
Alastar rolled his shoulders back, drawing himself up to his full, gangly height. His upper lip curled in disgust. “It’s over, High King. No one will come for you. None in your Court will ever be able to find you, now that we’ve acquired your famed hunter as well. Nothing you can say will stop me from throwing your broken body at her feet.”
“Then why haven’t you done so already?” Tiernan taunted, sneering at the bastard. “Here we sit in the Pass of Veils when Suvarese is less than a day’s travel. You could’ve dumped me in Parisa’s dungeon by now, but instead you camp in the pass. I wonder why…oh, wait. It’s because you’re afraid. Deep down, you’re terrified she’ll betray you. Fear of her deceit haunts your dreams, leaves you waking in a cold sweat, panicked that you’ve made a mistake.”
Alastar went eerily still.
“And the worst part?” Tiernan sneered. “You know I’m right.”
There was no warning.
The fae swung. His fist was like lead against Tiernan’s cheek, shattering the bone there. He grunted as another blow to the gut sent him careening onto his back. Pain ricocheted up and down his spine, lancing through his temples. Something warm and wet slid down the side of face into his eyes, blinding him. His head lolled to the side and he sucked in a garbled breath. Nausea roiled in his stomach as a wave of dizziness washed over him. Bile burned his throat. He struggled to keep his eyes open, to face his attacker.
“It’s a shame Parisa wants you alive.” Alastar’s disembodied voice sounded from somewhere above him. “I’d much prefer you dead.”
The last thing Tiernan saw was the gleam of Alastar’s boot right before it connected with his head.
Darkness engulfed him.And then there was nothing.
* * *
Maeve stormedinto the House of Death as a swell of agony overcame her.
The imprint of witch thread marking her wrist seared her, leaving her breathless. Emotions not belonging to her caused her blood to stir, to riot, charging her with fresh determination. Tenacity. Strength. Fearlessness. All attributes she recognized in the one the witch thread bound to her.
Tiernan.
Wherever he was, he was in danger.She had to get to him. She would stop atnothingto find him.
Tiernan.
Again, she repeated the name, but the picture of him in her mind was blurring. Already she could not recall the color of his eyes, nor could she recollect the sound of his voice.
Damn it.
“Aed!” she called out through the long corridor, shoving through the ornate doors of the great hall. She stalked past guards and servants, daring any of them to stand in her way. He had to be here. He had to know she was coming for him. “God of death, I demand you show yourself to me!”
“So bossy,” a low voice responded from behind her, the brush of it like an icy whisper upon her skin.
Maeve whirled around to find him standing mere inches away from her.
Dressed in all black, he stood with his hands tucked behind his back. He wore his hair pulled into a low knot at the nape of his neck, all strands of white, the tips a rich black. His silver eyes glowed with power, with promise, and the corner of his mouth curved into a ghost of a smile. Raw magic pulsed around them, alluring and intimidating all at once. Gods, he was magnificent. And the scent of him—wintry nights, forbidden fruit, and bitter florals—was enough to make her head spin.
Perhaps she’d been a little too careless in her demand of his presence.
Maeve took an instinctive step back. He closed the distance between them once more.
“You called?” His voice was a dark melody, meant to entrance her. Confound her. Entice her.
Tier…
She blinked. “I have to go back.”
Aed’s magic lessened. Just slightly. “So soon?”
Maeve steeled her will. She wouldn’t be swayed by his charm. Or his power.
“Aed, god of death.” She dipped her head, an offering of the respect he commanded. “May I return to Niahvess? To Faeven?”
