Page 249 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

Was this why Graves had been so against her walking into the market alone? He had known the costs they could enact, because he had already paid them.

“What did they take?”

“My Druidic magic.”

Kierse’s mouth popped open. “Can they…take that?”

“They did,” he said flatly. “Seventy years ago.”

“Oh god,” she whispered.

Suddenly, it made sense. When they had started on her memory work, she had delved into his magic. She’d felt the full depths of his power as this massive inexplicable force. And yet there had been a piece missing. She hadn’t understood it at the time. Hadn’t even known it was possible for magic to be missing and not be able to be rejuvenated.

He glanced away from her. “I did it to myself. That’s what the cauldron said.”

The cauldron had refused him. His heritage. His connection to his mother. The years of training. All gone in a blink. He likely hadn’t even known how deep that connection went until it was gone. So like Kierse, now that her magic was missing, too.

Lorcan’s words came back to her. That Graves wasn’t going to get what he wanted from the cauldron, just as he hadn’t gotten what he’d wanted from the spear, or the sword. He’d been right.

“It was a long shot anyway,” Graves finally said.

“Is there a way to get it back?” she asked. Her mind went back to the time they’d been in the Dublin market. Riohad said what he’d given was in their book. Did that mean his Druidic magic was still in the market?

He considered. “What would we trade to return it? What could either of us lose that would be big enough for it?”

She didn’t have that answer.

“Nothing,” he said finally. “If the cauldron can’t even return it, then the market will be no more generous.” He reached for his suit jacket and slid it on. The conversation over. “Shall we attend your friend’s wedding?”

“I’m afraid to tell you, Graves, but I think he’s your friend, too.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Don’t remind me.”

Kierse laughed, and it almost felt as light as it had a week earlier. She was still getting used to this new normal. She didn’t know if it’d ever feel right again. But she was trying. She was still fighting.

They took the elevator to the limo and drove across town to the Dreadlords’ headquarters, Five Points, in Chelsea. The nightclub had been shut down for the weekend to accommodate the wedding of their alpha. The festivities were on the rooftop, which was currently bursting with flowers and plants of all varieties. It was a riot of color and foliage. Wooden chairs were set up in rows on either side of a long aisle. At the end was a circular arch bedecked with flowers.

The rooftop was full to the brim with friends and family from both sides. Maura’s relatives from New Jersey, in traditional saris and kurtas. Her nursing friends mingling in summer dresses. The wolves in sharp summer suits and floor-length gowns. Kierse loved and appreciated the mix ofcultures.

Spending the past week with the couple as they were showered with love and attention had made her heart so happy for them. She and Gen had been there as the henna had been applied intricately to Maura’s skin at her Mehndi, and through the Haldi, where a mixture of turmeric, oil, and water was applied to Maura’s skin by married relatives. It had at least kept her from ruminating on her own shit and what exactly she was going to do about it all.

Gen rushed to her side and pulled her in for a hug. “You look beautiful.”

Graves nodded at Gen and then began to slowly pace the length of the rooftop to give them space. He must have reined his magic in, because people weren’t actively bowing away from him. Progress.

“Thank you,” Kierse said with a smile. She held Gen at arm’s length, admiring her shimmery blue dress. “You look amazing, too. Where’s your date?”

Gen flushed and pointed inside. If Kierse angled her head, she could just see Ronan standing sentinel in a dark suit with Finn at his back. “Groomsmen haven’t come out yet, but I came early to see him.”

“Good,” Kierse told her honestly. “I’m happy for you.”

“Speaking of dates,” Gen said, nodding her head in another direction.

Ethan had his fingers interlocked with Corey’s across the room. Ethan’s suit was a cream linen that only he could have pulled off, with a navy tie. Corey complemented him in a navy blazer with a soft blue shirt and yellow tie.

“I’m glad they seem happy.”

“Not Ethan and Corey. Theyarehappy. Obnoxiouslyso, honestly.” Gen angled Kierse slightly to the right.

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