Page 119 of The Savage Queen

The bear gasped for breath, lumbering onto its paws. Fionn held up a hand, commanding Greum to stand his ground and allow Fionn this battle alone.

Lir squinted, resisting the urge to behead his brother with the mere flick of his wrist and the trajectory of his axe.

“So protective over what was never yours to begin with,” Fionn continued, doing his best to provoke Lir while he bore the upper hand. Aisling was swathed in smoke, draining her energy to conjure fire. Mischief on Fionn’s part, Lir already knew. He could taste the work of the Lady in his brother’sdraiochtas it stalked up the walls. Of bloody stars, a shear’s edge, or a spider’s web.

“What makes you think we haven’t already truly bonded?” Lir said, padding nearer.

“So, you did?” Fionn asked, gathering Aisling in his arms. Lir felt his stomach drop, but he held back, refusing to give Fionn the satisfaction.

Aisling shoved against him, unable to best a Sidhe king in matters of brute strength alone.

“Tell me then, what was it like?” Fionn continued, face brightening the moment he’d spoken. Reading the hesitation flickering across Lir’s expression regardless of his attempts to mask it. “Did she scream? Did she squirm like she is now?—”

Lir threw one half of Hiraeth.

It hurled through the chamber, thirsty for the blood between Fionn’s eyes. Disappointed when Fionn raised a hand, freezingLir’s blade mid-air and shoving it across the room with venom. The axe slapped against the wall before clattering against the ground.

Fionn laughed. “You think you can fool me? I can smell the unsatiated want on the both of you. Can taste everythingunmetbetween the two of you.” Fionn bowed his head to smell the sweat beading at Aisling’s throat despite the cold.

Lir went rigid, rivaling the rage evolving into wrath within.

“Lir—” Aisling warned, but Lir couldn’t hear her above the storm of gore in his mind.

“Touch her,” Lir said, deathly slow, “and I’ll serve every last mortal a chalice of your blood as they bow before both her and I. Your head piked before our dais.”

“I’m afraid you’re envisioning both mine and Aisling’s future.”

“Never speak her name again,” Lir warned a final time, his fangs scraping against his tongue.

“Or what?” Fionn grinned as Aisling’s smoke thickened, her efforts to breathe herdraiocht,stifled at once.

“Release me!” she hissed, the anger, the desperation in her voice staking Lir through the chest.

“Into the prison of another? My brother keeps you all the same,” Fionn said.

Aisling hesitated, violet eyes flashing with something Lir didn’t have time to explore.

Fionn pulled Aisling’s hair away from her face so her shoulders, her throat, her neckline, were all exposed as he tipped her face to his, mouth moving nearer to her own.

Lir felt the realm snap.

He exploded the chamber with great oaks and vines and roots, reaching for his brother as the statue of their mother, overcome with both forest and ice, cleaved at the center.

For the first time, Fionn’s smug arrogance collapsed, swiftly recovering as he froze every branch, every root, every growth, but it was already too late.

Amidst the mayhem, Lir tossed his second axe, finding Fionn’s wrist and slicing it clean off.

The son of Winter screamed, releasing Aisling so he could clutch his bloodied limb. Greum roared, chasing after Aisling. It was futile. Lir’s willows shielded her from the bear, collapsing over the beast even as Aisling reached for him.

Lir forced himself to turn away. She couldn’t stay. Not when Fionn had meddled with herdraiochtat the aid of the Lady, his collar winking at Lir the moment it’d been placed around Aisling’s neck.

“Who amplifies your power?!” Fionn seethed at Lir, desperately trying to gather himself despite his severed hand. “What cursed creature favors you to share their strength?!”

Indeed, no Seelie nor Unseelie, no mortal nor beast, was made to wield enough power to grow an ash, a yew, an oak, an alder, much less a forest. But Lir found Aisling’s proximity, her smell, her taste, inspired unique strength within him. Brightened hisdraiochtand fed it new life. His sheer proximity to Aisling during the dance through the spirit’sSnaidhm, enough to embolden his power for sorcery such as this.

“You think this is power?” Lir asked Fionn as he drew closer. “Then imagine what’ll become of you if you so much as glance at mycaeraagain.”

Fionn grimaced, maddened by his brother’s warning.

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