Page 13 of Void of Endings
“I’ve got you.”
Those were the last words Maeve heard before she sank into the darkness.
Chapter Four
It wasn’t very often Tiernan found himself in his throne room. In fact, he rarely spent any time in the outdoor space at all unless absolutely necessary. Mostly because it reminded him of his parents. His mother had planted the plumeria trees herself. She would collect all the fallen petals, then crush them and combine them with scented oils—usually rose, or lily, or lemon—to create an elixir for her hair. Sometimes, it lingered on the faintest of breezes.
The gilded throne stood watch behind him, poised like a shrine to the sun, to the magic of Summer. Tiernan had lost count of the number of times he’d witnessed his father sitting there, positioned upon the dais, pretending to punish him for some recklessly foolish incident from his youth.
But on this night, the solitude and emptiness of the throne room was a welcome comfort. His only company was the rustling of swaying palms and the distant crash of the sea upon the shoreline. He paced in silence, his footfalls following the path of golden stones inlaid in the ground to resemble a swirling sun.
The last time he’d come to the throne room, he’d been left feeling helpless. Maeve had been traded to Garvan in exchange for Ceridwen, and all Tiernan could do was wait for the merrowsto help her escape. It was eerily similar to the situation he found himself in now. This constant waiting.
“He’ll bring her back.” Lir’s voice sounded from the shadows creeping along the wall. Ever watchful. Ever vigilant.
“I know.” Tiernan ran a hand through his hair and gazed up at the night sky. Lazy clouds rolled across the darkened heavens, blotting out the beams of moonlight. He liked to think Lir was right, and that Rowan would hold true to his word.
He reached for Maeve’s emotions through the witch thread, knowing better than to disturb her if she was indeed in the midst of her memory restoration. She seemed calm and unbothered, as though nothing was out of the ordinary.
It set Tiernan’s nerves on edge.
Lir shifted beneath one of the looming palm trees, the silver hoops climbing up his ears glinting in the pale light. He crossed his arms over his chest, lounging against the uneven surface of the tree’s trunk. “You should have seen her.”
Confusion drew Tiernan’s brows together. “When?”
“When she found out you were gone.” Lir shook his head. There was the slightest upturn of his lips and something akin to awe shone bright in his silver eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Her magic, the sheerpowerof her, was astonishing.”
Except Tiernan had seen her, or at least he thought as much. He’d been chained in iron, busted and bleeding, when he sensed a change in the air. He looked up toward the mountain peaks and there, exploding between them, looked what he could only describe as a dazzling starburst.
Maeve had landed on the ground before him a moment later.
He glanced down at his wrist, tracing the witch thread with his finger. Perhaps it was no coincidence that what he witnessed and what marked his skin were nearly identical images.
Lir shoved off the tree, a look of grave concern haunted his face. “She would have torn open the realms for you.”
He didn’t doubt it.
Tiernan rubbed his thumb along the glittering back ink. “I worry for her.”
“These things take time, Your Highness.” Lir skimmed the heavens, searching. “Returning one’s memory is no easy feat.”
“No, I’m not concerned about how long it takes.” Tiernan shook his head and took to pacing once more, the clicking of his boots echoing softly in the night. “But…”
He paused. Hesitated.
Lir watched him with quiet understanding.
“This will change her, Lir.” Tiernan spread his arms wide, the ache in his heart expanding, because he knew, heknewshe would hurt even though the transfer of memories was harmless. “She will relive her memories all over again. She will suffer through the trauma she worked so hard to overcome. Enduring something horrific once is terrible on its own.”
He thought of his mate, of how much torment she’d faced in the short span of her life.
“But being forced to survive it twice?” Tiernan shook his head. “What if it breaks her?”
“Maeve is a survivor, my lord.”
“But even the strongest of hearts will need time to heal.”
The beating of wings cutting through the night air stole Tiernan’s attention skyward. His gaze skimmed the black velvet sky, and just beyond a bank of gray clouds, he caught sight of a fae flying toward them. Not just any fae. Rowan.
