Page 122 of Atop the Faerie Throne
“Our son?”
“When I swore the oath, the Goddess showed me a vision of the future. He had a touch of teal to his skin, and Jaro was teaching him to fight while we watched.” I break off, unsure I should continue, but then sigh out a breath. “I held you just like this.”
“Caed…” A spark of hope flitters down the bond, and I sigh out a breath.
“I’m sorry I fucked that up.”
“Maybe you haven’t,” she presses. “Why would Danu show you that if it was for nothing?”
Because it was supposed to set me on the right path, but I was too obsessed with pleasing my father to listen.
Still, I tangle my fingers in her hair, letting her talk me into believing it was a sign. Letting that hope flare bright, simply because I’ll do anything to live in this moment a little longer.
And when she rises above me, claiming me on my back in the dirt, I hope she feels how sorry I am with every kiss I press to her skin.
I hope she knows I would do anything to go back and spare her the fate I’ve woven for us.
Thirty-Eight
Rhoswyn
Iwake up, and my heart is missing.
I’m sure it must be there, but I can’t feel it. The muscles of my chest have seized around the dead organ. I can’t do more than lie there, held tightly against the warm body beneath me. There are birds singing. The sunlight is warm and soft on my bare skin… and yet…
It’s gone.
It’s gone, and I can’t breathe.
Beneath me, Caed stirs, the dawn painting his blue skin with all the wrong colours.
Because his tattoos are missing. All of them. There’s no rose over his heart. No knots or frames down his arm. No skull on his left hand.
No buzz wherever we touch.
“No,” my voice cracks as my fingers sink into the place where my own mark should be, like I can claw it back out of my veins if I try hard enough. “No, no, no. Please, Danu. Goddess. Please.Please!”
Caed blinks awake as soon as my voice rises above a whisper—and I keen low in my throat as I see the knowledge seep into his turquoise eyes.
Our mating bond is gone.
His oath is dissolved.
Caedmon Fomorii is no longer my Guard.
Thirty-Nine
Drystan
Ihave never despised another being quite as much as I loathe myself as I watch the maids lower a catatonic Rose into a steaming bath full of herbs.
We all felt it happen. Felt her wake up and the way she fractured.
The others haven’t said anything. They don’t need to. The way she screamed when we tried to separate her from Caed so he could get cleaned up was enough.
The redcap found them in the fields yesterday, covered in mud and clinging to one another. I’d hoped that there might’ve been some improvement overnight. No such luck.
Now the Fomorian is slumped against the side of her bath, his stare blanker than hers. The only time he’s even acknowledged anyone else was when he first saw me and dropped to his knees like he was waiting for me to put him out of his misery.
