Page 91 of Across an Endless Sea

“I’m not taking criticism from a spirit,” Drystan retorts, and Jaro shoots him a shocked glance.

I think he’s worried that Titania will take offence, but he needn’t be. Of all my guides, she’s the most forgiving. Drystan’s hand is back and better than new a few seconds later, my mark unblemished across his palm.

“Don’t let go of the connection yet,” Titania cautions me, and I nod, knowing that’s where I’ve been going wrong so far. “Let the magic settle. Good, now let go of me…” I do as she says, and my skin tingles where she touched me for a second. “Now, let go of Danu.”

That part is harder. The Goddess’s energy is pulsing against my skin, and it feels like it needs to go somewhere.

“Your Guard can ground it,” Titania whispers. “Pass it to them.”

My brow furrows until my vision blurs, and it takes a lot of effort to get the energy to follow my instructions. Eventually, it gives in, trickling down the bonds towards the five of them.

“Thank you,” I murmur as the power dissipates entirely.

Titania nods. “It will get easier when you are mated,” she promises, words echoing as she fades away.

Drystan finally risks opening his eyes and immediately starts examining our work, flexing his fingers. When he nods, seemingly satisfied, I realise that’s as close to a thank you as I’m going to get.

“How did you lose it?” I ask.

“You first,” he replies, gesturing to my hair.

I did promise, didn’t I? Even now, I feel the unintentional bargainIinitiated pushing at me, willing me to fulfil my end.

“Hair is important to the Fomorians,” I begin. “It indicates status, and their connection to their ancestors. When they turned me around to cut my hair, I… I thought he was going to cut off my wings. He made out like he was going to. Even touched them.”

I fall over my words, eager to get the confession over with, but there’s a tremble in my voice that I can’t hide. Even then, I hold back the worst of what happened. The males around me are already stiff with anger, and I can’t bear to make it worse by telling them about the way Elatha whispered in my ear, or got off on my terror.

The memory of the intimate caress makes my wings flutter, and I can’t help but compulsively check the glamour I put over them. Jaro doesn’t hesitate, dragging me away from Lore—ignoring his objections—and wrapping his entire body around mine in a protective hug.

“I will never let them take you again,” he murmurs. “I’ll protect you—and your wings—until my dying breath, and I swear to the Goddess, I will not fail you.”

I don’t need the fae ability to detect lies to know he means it. Honesty and sincerity drips from his every word. Jaro’s protective, warm presence consumes me, giving me the strength and space to just be. With him surrounding me, I feel truly safe for the first time since Prae killed me in this garden almost a fortnight ago.

Unlike my bond with Caed—I know I can trust that feeling. Trust him.

Hidden by his arms, I finally let loose the tears I’ve been holding back, burrowing my head into his wide chest to hide the body-wracking sobs from the others.

“Would you like me to bring you Caed’s severed dick?” Lore asks curiously. “I can get it flayed so it looks like a butterfly, then we can frame it.”

The noise that escapes me is caught somewhere between a hiccough, a sob, and a laugh.

“It’s okay,” I say. “It wasn’t Caed. It was Elatha… and if Bram gets hurt on the way here, I already promised to feed Prae to those trees you showed me.”

“Oooh, death by Corcrannach,” Lore croons. “Digested slowly by roots for hundreds of years. What a way to go.” He sniffs and wipes an imaginary tear from his eye. “We’ll make an unseelie of you yet, pet.”

“I had no idea that was what those trees did!” Guilt at the idea of making Prae suffer such a fate gnaws at me. “She… wasn’t so bad, for a Fomorian. She never hurt me or killed anyone to force me to cooperate. I even…” I hesitate, unsure if I should admit this, then sigh and do it anyway, because they might as well know. “I offered her a safe place here, with us. I definitely don’t want her to be digested for a hundred years.”

Drystan, Bree, and Jaro all look aghast, but Jaro recovers quickly enough.

“I’d have come up with worse,” he swears. “Florian will be so happy to see Bram again—”

“Florian!” I bolt upright, pressing against his chest with both hands as I struggle to crane my neck and reach his eyes. “Is he alive? Danu said he was fighting…”

The knight hesitates, then admits, “He could use your help, but only if you’re rested enough.”

Purpose settles into my bones, and I straighten my spine.

Finally, something I can do.

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