Page 133 of A War of Three Kings

I want to thrust myself between them and ferociously protect my sister from those verbal blows, but it is not a thing I can stop. This is her battle, and all I can do is help her pick up the pieces at the end.

“I can’t stay here and watch you raise thatthinginto another monster,” Gwyneth yells, pointing a finger in her face.

“You had better GET OUT of the North, or so the gods help me!” Caitlin screams, her hair exploding into whipcords of fire and thrashing around her, releasing a storm of embers. Even hereyes are nothing but flames burning within the voids of their sockets.

Liam jolts beside me, then wraps his arms around my waist and holds me back as I try to race to my sister. “Give her space,” he whispers in my ear. “Let her do what she needs to do.”

Gwyneth cowers, stumbling backward as Caitlin slowly stalks toward her. “You are stripped of your title as the Captain of the Protector Guard and forbidden entry into the Appleshield Protectorate for life. Leave now. I never want to see your face again.” She turns on her heel as Gwyneth collapses to the ground, and with each step she takes, her primal form slips away.

Liam lets go of me as Caitlin reaches us. I wrap my arms around her, drawing her into the guardhouse. Her entire body shakes and choked sobs escape her lips. When I glance back at the battlements, Gwyneth is gone.

“Are you okay, Commander?” Liam’s voice is gravelly, shocking us both. He doesn’t pull away from Caitlin or call her a fae beast. He offers her his canteen of water.

Caitlin takes a long sip, then looks him in the eye. “Congratulations on your promotion, Liam.”

“Promotion?” He stares at her.

She thrusts the canteen into his chest. “Yes. Captain of the Protector Guard.”

He falls back into his chair, face pale with shock. He is a good choice for the job. Loyal to a fault and thrives every time he leads a task force.

Caitlin rushes toward the staircase, and when I catch up with her, she is sitting on a step with her head held in her hands. “I knew this would happen. Deep down, I knew.”

I stroke her hair and hold her for as long as she needs me. It has always been the other way around between us, where I am falling apart and she lifts me up. When she is ready, I lead herback to her rooms and have a guard send a discreet message to our father.

Caitlin doesn’t shatter to pieces in the way I have in the past. She doesn’t put herself to bed, become a shaking mess or cry for hours.

No—she rages.

She rants, swears and paces.

Screams incoherently and tosses her bed coverings to the ground. Objects fly across the room, shattering on the wall. I find myself passing her new things to break so she can let it all out. She apologizes to me again and again for her explosive outbursts, and I assure her it is okay. She needs it.

After what seems like hours, Caitlin pulls herself together, straightens her clothes and insists we return to the war room.

“Are you sure you don’t need a break?” I ask for the tenth time as we walk there. “You can take as much time as you need.”

“I need a distraction,” she grinds out.

That night, when we are all beyond fatigued and bleary-eyed, the door to the war room slams open and our mother stands in the entry. Despite the dust upon her neatly tailored riding clothes, she looks every part the Northern matriarch. Her dark eyes scan the room, falling upon the Mothers of Magic, the lesser nobility and the fae.

“Everybody out.” Her tone is hard as she pulls off her kid leather gloves. “I need a few private moments with my family.”

The priestesses and nobles alike scurry out. Aldrin rises with the rest of the fae, but I put my hand on his arm.

“Where are you going, Aldrin?” my mother snaps. “I said family is to stay.”

The door closes and her posture softens, especially as her eyes fall on Caitlin’s miserable form between Diarmuid and me.

My father gets up and surprises my mother with a passionate kiss on the lips. Her eyebrows shoot up, then her arm slowly snakes around his waist.

“Thank the gods you are here,” he rumbles. “I have desperately needed the backup. Facing an enemy horde is one thing, but one family crisis after another? I don’t know what I’m bloody doing.” He gives a pointed look at me, then Caitlin.

“Really?” Diarmuid laughs. “We hadn’t noticed.”

“Don’t you talk.” I reach around Caitlin to pinch his arm. “You’re missing in action half the time.”

My mother tidies the ruffled strands of my father’s hair, then sharply tugs a lock. “Am I correct in believing that you promised our youngest daughter to marriage without consulting me first?” She tugs another handful of hair and my father winces. “To a rebel king, none the less?”

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