Page 65 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

"Trust yourself. Trust your instincts. Both of you." Liam crossed the barrier, popping out of existence.

Mirrelle shot me a sideways glance, one eyebrow quirked up, before following behind. A heartbeat and she was gone.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped through the gate.

Fourteen

Raina

The fading light filtered through the dense green leaves, casting patterned shadows on the wooden planks as we wound through the interconnected walkways in the sky. At this height, we were surrounded by the tops of the majestic koyu trees of Ephandor, their gnarled trunks smattered with moss and winding vines.

The suspended rope bridges were surprisingly sturdy, woven expertly and supported by the branches of the massive koyus. The ground below was almost invisible, hidden by layers of greenery intertwining with the black-brown offshoots of limbs.

The air was fresh and crisp, a welcome relief after being trapped underground in those mines. I didn’t remember much from the experience, but I remember feeling like my lungs couldn’t inflate.

I glanced at Liam leading us. His tall, lean frame moved with ease, his attention everywhere, always alert. Mirrelle followed closely behind me, her steps soft and steady.

The three of us had been all but mute since Gunnar came and unlocked that door. I was usually quiet anyway, but the other two definitely weren’t.

Even Mirrelle and I, after being taken to the guest house to clean up, hadn’t spoken much despite our quarters being adjoined. At least Liam was on a floor below us so we wouldn’t have to cross paths in the evenings.

Soon, Brahm’s grand stokran emerged before us. The clan referred to it as Speirhaus, or Sky House in the common tongue. Despite an eschewing of all things art, the warriors’ craftsmanship when it came to their stokrans was a thing of beauty.

Speirhaus was an expansive, dark-stained lodge, resting at least a hundred feet in the air, interlaced through and across a tightly-packed cluster of ancient trees. It looked like the mini fortress had magically grown from the very earth itself.

It sat closest to Stirroghar Crossing, away from the other dwellings. It was the first line of defense because the Drótinn refused to put others between himself and danger.

Unexpectedly, Liam halted and turned to me. "Are you feeling alright? Up to doing this?" he queried, nodding towards his father’s home.

I hesitated, taken aback by his concern. He felt obligated to keep me safe and alive, but his actions and words had made it very clear that was all he wanted to feel. I also didn’t have a ready answer. Though I felt like I'd experienced something monumental and life-altering, I had little memory of the specifics of what happened in the mines.

All I could recall was the sensation that my soul was trying to escape my body under an intense weight. Mirrelle, sensing my struggle to respond, chimed in.

"It feels like our souls were flattened by a herd of wild boars, doesn't it? Can't say it's my favorite way to spend an afternoon, but I can manage your family for a couple of hours."

"Yes, like that,” I agreed.

I could still feel the lingering remnants of whatever strange power had gripped us down there. The fact it had stemmed from the might of a god wasn’t knowledge I wanted lingering in my thoughts.

Seemingly satisfied with the response he’d gotten, Liam resumed his lead. He took us left, away from the front entrance and around to the back. We passed several guards who greeted Liam but studiously ignored me and my friend.

We took a narrow staircase up to a small covered deck, mostly hidden from the path below. The platform was a secluded oasis amidst the sprawling treehouse, surrounded by the verdure crowns in the canopy of trees.

Brahm and Gunnar were leaning against the far railing, where the roof slanted low over the deck. Their heads were bent close in quiet conversation.

Liam’s father looked up, eyes immediately falling upon his second son. He pressed off the handrail, abandoning the conversation.

"Well, it seems all three of you were found worthy," Brahm commented, his voice gruff yet warm. "You must be starving."

This time, he greeted Liam in the way of the berserker warriors, with a fist over his heart. Liam did the same and they both closed their opposite hand over the other’s fist, a sign of protecting another’s lifeblood with their own.

Then the beast of a male pulled his son into a fierce hug. Liam let go of some of the tension he'd been holding onto, his shoulders dropping ever so slightly.

Next, Gunnar did the same as his father, but held himself stiffly. A flash of emotion sparked in his eyes and was gone before Liam could see it.

Brahm watched his sons fondly, then gave Mirrelle and I the more formal acknowledgement of a hand over his heart and a slight bow, a show of respect in Ephandor.

After mirroring Brahm, I looked to do the same with Gunnar but he was pouring himself a drink at the small bar. So that was how it was going to be.Dick.

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