Page 2 of The Savage Queen

“Enslaved to the fae? Shackled, imprisoned, and boasted like a hunt?” Thedragún’sexpression flashed with outrage, great fangs lengthening as it bared its teeth.

“No, as comrades. As partners. As allies,” Ina assured thedragún.

“There’s never been such an alliance.”

Ina held her breath, heart thrashing inside.

“Then let us be the first.”

Racat smiled, eyes glittering violet.

CHAPTER I

AISLING

“Aisling,” the wind called.

Aisling was a child once more, racing through the woods.

“Come now, Aisling!” Starn shouted from behind. “You’ll have to run faster than that if you ever dream of escaping us!”

Aisling’s lungs burned, and her feet were scraped raw, but still, she cut through the trees a few paces ahead of her brothers and Dagfin.

“Come face our wrath, you cowardly beast!” Annind shrieked with giddy delight.

“We’ll wear your hide on our back as we return triumphantly to the people!”

“The five princes of the North: Monster Slayers!” Dagfin chimed, his voice closer than the rest, gaining on Aisling’s heels. Their games an excuse for Aisling to slip past Tilrish gates and coax her brothers into chasing her.

Aisling broke through the trees and skidded onto Hannelore’s shores, Dagfin on her heels. So, without another thought, she leaped into the linn and swam to its center. Starn, Iarbonel, Fergus, Annind, and Dagfin all stopped short, reluctant to wet themselves before the hour was up and Castle Neimedh’s supper bell rang. Before Nemed would discoverthey’d again slipped past Tilren’s guards and indulged their childhood for an afternoon. Before Aisling knew the world was a fae one. That monsters lurked both in the wild and in oneself.

“Aisling,” an unembodied voice called again, this time closer.

Her brothers and Dagfin were already far away, trudging up the stony shores. Dagfin glanced over his shoulder to see if she’d followed.

“Aisling,” the wind growled.

Panic seized Aisling, gripping her legs and pulling her under. The world turned wet and blue, deep, and immeasurably vast. Aisling squirmed, searching for the rippling surface above when a dark mass caught her eye. Her body fell limp with fear.

It approached––its sinuous shape caressed by the undercurrents of Hannelore. A scaly beast cloaked by the cold cavity of the loch. Eyes shimmering with the reflection of a dying sun up above.

“You may call me friend.”

Aisling screamed, suddenly unable to move her arms or legs. She was held in place, a prisoner of the loch until the surface crashed atop her head and released her. But once she emerged, she was alone and grown. A woman now. Her brothers and Dagfin were gone, and Hannelore was a distant childhood memory. A memory slipping through her fingers like wisps of ash.

“Aisling.” Now, the wind bore the same deep, seductive lilt as Lir. His voice achingly familiar. Her name on his lips was a spell: a cruel enchantment sinking its teeth into her heart.

She spun, wiping away the hair stuck to her forehead.

Rain descended like strings of glittering pearls, flooding the glen. Great willows caged the black pond, lapping at her waist, eyeing her as she swiveled, searching for him. His voice slithered through the blades of grass, the wet earth, and the mossy bodies of slumbering stones.

A wolf stalked forth from the surrounding forest. It padded closer, licking its fangs and narrowing its sage eyes.

Aisling called for thedraiocht, but her fire didn’t work the same way in dreams—his or hers, she couldn’t tell. The perpetual showers extinguished her flames, cloaking her hands in smoke.

“A heart for a heart.”

She cursed the wolf, turning from it to trudge through the pond, clawing at the algae floating atop, only to come face to face with a more formidable beast—thesamebeast in another form.

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