Page 106 of The Savage Queen

“What do you know of these axes?”

“Gifted by the gods, they’ve spilt mortal blood for centuries.”

“Aye, imbued with primevaldraiocht.”

“Is that why you never let them out of your sight?”

Lir considered her, the sensation of his undivided attention chilling.

“Together their name is Hiraeth, the Heart of Annwyn.”

Aisling repeated the name in her mind, familiarizing herself with its nuances.Hiraeth, the Heart of Annwyn. “What does that mean?”

“To destroy either Annwyn or Hiraeth would be to destroy the other,” Lir said. Aisling appraised his axes anew, glimmering with life. Their blades were black, as though chiseled and sculpted from onyx and engraved with fae runes. The haft was wooden and wrapped in leafy vines that moved, slithered, at times braiding themselves around Lir’s forearms while he fought.

Aisling arched a brow. “Why would you entrust with me such information?”

“You’re the queen of Annwyn. You should know.”

Aisling bit her bottom lip, wondering if this was Lir’s way of exchanging her vulnerable tears with a vulnerability of his own.

“Filverel would seethe if he knew you’d divulged anything of the sort with me.”

Lir shrugged. “Maybe I think it’s attractive when we play with fire.”

Aisling’s stomach dipped. The fact she was alone with the fae king, suddenly more electric. The others soundly asleep beneath the blanket of stars above.

He stepped closer.

“Careful.” Aisling held out her hand, her fingertips holding back his chest from coming any nearer. “I might start to believe you’re flirting with me.”

“Who says I’m not?”

Lir moved nearer still. His hair dripping with rain as it fell over them with more force. Speckling his otherworldly features as it had in her dream.

Lir was toying with her, his manipulation clear, intentionally balancing on a knife’s edge of affection. His abrupt shift from kind and vulnerable to sharp and wolfish made Aisling certain of it. Anything to convince Aisling to truly bind with him if it meant complete sovereignty. An archaic sort of magic that left all but a fortunate few bloodied and scarred. But Aisling could wield such manipulation just well.

“If you were flirting with me, you would’ve taken me by now.” Aisling moved closer, steeling herself. Spelling her every movement with the seductive tilt she’d studied in her encounter with the merrow. And to her surprise, Lir’s arrogance flickered, his expression flashing with surprise, before his eyes darkened and his throat bobbed, studying his opponent anew. His fangs lengthened, balancing a bead of rain at their tip.

“Or are you too afraid?” Aisling asked. “Afraid you’re no longer in control?”

A muscle flashed across Lir’s jaw.

Aisling moved to touch his shoulder, but Lir stepped away, just out of reach.

“You shouldn’t taunt me,ellwyn. It’s a game you won’t win.”

“Who says you’re the only one who seeks the power our binding will yield?” Aisling asked, her voice as silky as wine and as thick as cream.

“Is that why you’re doing this?” he asked, his voice rougher than Aisling had ever heard it. “The power?”

Aisling despised herself for hesitating. For taking more than a breath to respond.

“What else is there?” She repeated the sentiment he’d spoken in Fionn’s castle. And for a moment, Aisling thought she saw a glimmer of disappointment in Lir’s eyes hidden deep within and carefully veiled.

“But if you’re not ready to truly bind, there’s always Fionn?—”

Lir moved toward her, quicker than Aisling could blink. Forehead to forehead as he glared down at her.

---