Page 97 of The Savage Queen

Dagfin rolled onto his back, glaring up at the canopies above. The rest of the Sidhe slept around them with the exception of Galad and Lir, pacing the periphery of their camp for the first half of the night. Then, Filverel and Peitho would eventually take their place until the sun rose, grinning at dawn.

“You speak of the men aboard theStarling.”

Aisling didn’t respond. There was no succinct method to explain every sin she’d ever committed and those she was destined to deal. To describe the chokehold prophecy bore over her.

“The Lady speaks of untold desolation in my future.”

“She’s wrong.”

“Is she?”

Dagfin hesitated.

“The night before your union, I offered to run away with you. Do you remember?” he asked, turning to meet her eyes. His own, the soft churning of a starlit sea.

Aisling nodded her head.

“We still can. We can cleave ourselves from the narratives of all that is fae.”

Aisling’s heart splintered, wishing he’d never spoken the words that Aisling knew he considered often.

“I will not run from those who seek my defeat.”

“You consider it a surrender, but it is anything but. It’s a victory, Aisling. To rid yourself of the power they hold over you and charter a life of your own.”

“And charter I shall, after I bring them to their knees.”

“At what cost?”

Aisling locked eyes with the Roktan prince. She’d weighed the cost time and time again and still she found herself wanting.Thirsting. Needing, what it is she craved. And so, she would pay it and relish the conquest.

“You’re meant to be king, Fin.”

“Damn my throne,” he said. “It isn’t mine and was never meant to be.”

“Your brother would’ve wanted you to rule, Fin. He never would’ve wanted this for you—throwing your future away to accompany me on this forge-forsaken quest?—”

“He would’ve wanted me to pursue what it is I love.”

Dagfin’s expression broke, the edge of his jaw sharp and his lips taut with emotion. As though the words had slipped from between his lips and found their way between both he and Aisling.

“WhoI love.”

Aisling paled.

The final word as tangible as though it were alive and breathing between them, wrist-deep in their chests and twisting their hearts.

“You’ve changed in ways I can’t understand,” he continued. “But that doesn’t and never could diminish what it is I feel for you. Rage for you. And if power, vengeance, supremacy is what you need to at last prove to your clann, the fae, this realm, and the next that you aren’t the pawn they once believed, then so be it. We could rule Roktling if you wanted, side by side. As it should’ve been.”

Aisling blinked, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

“You were born to make the world a better place, Fin. To protect as you’ve done for me all my life. Even now.” Aisling couldn’t swallow, nearly choking on the stone in her throat. “I, Fin, was born to change. To reap it, to make it, to herald it. For better,” she said. “Or for worse.”

Dagfin shook his head. Deep sea tempests swelling behind his lashes.

“This isn’t your journey, and I should’ve never let you accompany me. If you care for me at all, then return to Roktling. Honor Feradach and accept the crown before it’s forced upon you.”

TheFaerakscowled, his anger and sorrow rising. The sleeping Sidhe around them stirring in the commotion. As for Galad and Lir, Aisling only prayed they weren’t within earshot.

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