Page 89 of Realm of Nightmares
Aran’s spine locked into place and he didn’t look away from Lianan when he said, “My deepest desire is to heal the wound left behind by Belladonna.”
“Belladonna?” Tiernan blinked, bewildered by that scrap of information. “I didn’t know you were poisoned.”
“I wasn’t.” The corner of Aran’s mouth ticked up into a ghost of a smile. “Belladonna is the name of the female who holds my heart in the palm of her unforgiving hand.”
Ah.
The female he’d mentioned before, the one who lived in Prava. The one Aran loved.
“How foolishly romantic,” the will ó wisp cooed. “A wound of the heart.”
“Perhaps,” Aran said with a wolfish smile. “That being said, she did stab me once.”
At this, Tiernan laughed, the sound of it bounding across the grassy field, but Lianan remained undeterred, on a mission to acquire as much covetous information from the High Prince as possible.
“And your darkest secret?” she prompted.
Aran went taut, freezing in place like he’d been carved from granite. His expression was one of a void, empty and barren. The only tell ensuring he continued to breathe was the flicker of emotion trapped deep within the recesses of his eyes. There shone loathing. Pure and unreserved hate. When he spoke, his voice was rough, like he’d swallowed a handful of sand and stones.
“Once I returned from Starysa to find Shay dead and Maeve gone,” Aran began, his austere gaze sliding to Tiernan, “it was I who tortured Garvan until his screams caused my ears to bleed. I used my magic, the power gifted to me from our father to slowly decompose any living thing, on my brother. The decay ate away at him, until the insides of his body were full of rot, until his bones were brittle, until he was on the brink of death.”
He inhaled sharply before continuing. “Then I brought in a healer to revive him. And I repeated this process. Over and over. I wanted to ensure he knew my pain. I wanted him to know the depth of agony I suffered due to his selfishness, his greed, and his treasonous ways.” Aran paused, and Tiernan didn’t miss the way the fae’s shoulders gradually relaxed and his fists unclenched, letting the blood flow to his fingers once more.
“I broke my own brother.” He lifted his chin, a manner so reminiscent of Maeve. “And I would do it again.”
Stunned by the admission, Tiernan found himself unable to speak.Even the will ó wisp looked slightly taken aback, with her petite jaw agape and her startling eyes almost too wide for her face.
“It is not Parisa that is causing the death of Faeven.” Lianan’s voice was scarcely more than a harsh whisper. “The essence of the land, the lifeblood of magic, of the Four Courts itself must be restored, or all will be lost.”
The essence.
The lifeblood of magic.
“Shit,” Tiernan breathed, and Aran spun to face him. “It’s Maeve.”
“Why didn’t we think of that?” Aran groaned, dropping his head back. “Of course it’s Maeve. She’s the balance. Theanam ó Danua.The soul of the goddess of life. Without her, all would cease to exist.”
Aran whipped around to Lianan. “How do we get back to Faeven?”
A mischievous smile spread across her shimmering lips. “Lianan is sure you can figure it out on your own.”
With that, she burst into a cascading waterfall of rippling stars and exploding constellations, vanishing from sight.
“Wait.” Aran held up one hand. “If shefaded—”
“Then so can we.”
Aran arched one auburn brow. “To Summer?”
Tiernan grinned. “To home.”
ChapterTwenty-Six
With the end of the harvest season came the promise of winter. In the Ether, the dreary days became shorter and the shadowy nights grew long. Soon, it seemed, there would be no way to determine day from night. The hours simply bled from dusk to midnight, then back again. Though wandering through the streets of the Ether long after the sun supposedly set was no longer something Maeve cared to do alone, the strange in-between hours offered her the perfect cover to escape to Diamarvh undetected.
The early predawn hour when most of the world was still asleep seemed like the most ideal time.
“Don’t worry, Cahira,” Maeve murmured, stroking the wolfing’s soft fur between her ears. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
