Page 129 of Realm of Nightmares
“Don’t cry, Maeve.” He held her out before him, his silver eyes roving over her, like he was inspecting her for any kind of injury or ailment. But when he focused on her face, a slight frown furrowed across his brow. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t…” Shame scorched her cheeks. “I can’t remember your name. I can’t remember anything. All I know is I’m where I’m supposed to be. I’m home. But my only memories are of the Ether. There’s nothing from before. And I…”
Now her shoulders trembled, the quake of panic building. Her breath hitched.
“Breathe, Maeve.” The male didn’t scorn her. He didn’t shun her. “Breathe and look at me.”
She forced herself to meet his unwavering gaze.
“My name is Lir Mordha. Commander of the Summer Legion. Loyal servant to the High King of Summer, Tiernan Velless.”
Tiernan.
He rolled his sleeve, showing her a Strand of waves that wrapped around his bicep, ribbons of turquoise against the jewel-toned umber of his skin. “And I have sworn to protect you from anything and anyone, no matter the cost.”
“Lir,” she repeated his name, the rise of anxiety melting away. “Lir.”
“You are safe here.” He captured her hands. “You are safe with me.”
Maeve nodded, but there was something missing.
No, that wasn’t quite right.
Someone had beentakenfrom her. Stolen.
Her blood surged and the witch thread marking her thrummed with fierce intensity. She traced the outline of the twin mountains, the streaks of the bursting star. She wouldn’t lose him. Not again.
“Where is he?” she asked, her voice as cold as the touch of death.
“Gone, my lady.” Lir straightened, his jaw so tense he could bite through iron. “He was abducted, along with Merrick, and there’s been no trace of them anywhere.”
Rage fired through her, emboldened by feral vengeance, and it severed through her trepidation like a blade through silk. Nothing would stop her, nothing would keep her from him. She would set fire to every corner of this world. Scorch the heavens and obliterate the hells. She would bring ruination upon any soul standing in her way.
Maeve spun around to face the double doors, where a land lush with the abundance of Summer blossomed before her.
“I will find him.” Her words dripped with resolute violence.
Lir stepped up beside her, quiet and steadfast.
“Let anyone dare prevent me…” Maeve’s magic roared, a promise of power. “And I will shatter the realms.”
ChapterThirty-Seven
Merrick’s eyes blinked open.
He stared up at a blue, cloudless sky, bathed in a sudden warmth. He squinted against the brightness, for so many moons had passed without the treasured beauty of the sun.
He inhaled. Deeply.
Though the solid iron binding his ankles and wrists encumbered his magic, his senses did not fail him. He possessed the blood of a hunter. With it, he could hear the far-off beating of wings, the call of birds, and the faintest steps of a doe leading her young through a nearby stream. Fresh snow fell to the north, coating Ashdara in a wonderland of white lace. The blizzard back home had calmed. In Kyol, a fox and her kit took shelter in an old hollowed–out log beneath a forest of jeweled leaves
A faint pattering echoed in his ears—rainfall beyond the shroud of the Spring Court. The crash of waves upon the shores of Niahvess called him home.
Merrick rolled onto his side, silencing a groan, taking stock of his surroundings.
He was still held captive by those fucking trooping fae, but they were too busy crying and laughing, in awe of the life returned to Faeven, to notice he’d awoken from his state of unconsciousness.
Shit.
