Page 2 of Ashes of Betrayal

And the hunger for revenge that made his gut ache. It was time to deal out long-overdue justice.

“Are you ready to go north, lass?” he asked Skaal.

The fae hound cocked her head as if she understood him. Of course, she didn’t though. Such a notion was ridiculous.

“Come on then.” Turning, he strode across to his horse, skirting around a clump of listing gravestones. And in the shadows, back from the clearing that had once been the Marav camp, The Slew stirred, hissing at him.

Once again, Cailean barely heard them.

Instead, he mounted Feannag and turned him toward the overgrown path that wound its way north, where the shadows of great mountains rose into the sky: the heart of The Uplands. Skaal trotted at his side.

They left the dead behind them.

2: FOREVER ALTERED

Caisteal Gealaich

The Realm of Sheehallion

I SHOULD NEVERhave returned.

Pulse hammering, Bree kept her gaze fixed on the gleaming moonstone floor of the throne room. The hard tiles dug into her knees, but she remained kneeling. Misery constricted her ribs, while around her, she was aware of the gazes of the Ravens—Mor’s personal bodyguards—and the Raven Queen’s two advisors, drilling into her.

Meanwhile, Mor had gone silent. Never a good sign.

Bree’s skin prickled under the queen’s stare, nervousness fluttering up. All the same, it was difficult to focus. Not when she knew, to the marrow of her bones, that she didn’t belong here.

She belonged with her husband.

Her chest started to ache.Shades, I thought I’d freed myself of this. She’d been sure that going through the stones and becoming Shee once more would restore the order of things. She’d be herself again: cold, detached, and pragmatic. The Raven Queen’s favorite pet.

But the pain pulsing under her breastbone contradicted her.

“You were supposed to remain at Duncrag,” Mor said finally, shattering the silence. “Why have you come back so soon?”

Swallowing, she raised her chin, meeting the queen’s black gaze.

Mor sat upon a throne carven from moonstone, her lovely face stern with disapproval. She wore a storm-grey gown that hugged her lean frame and a heavy jet necklace that gleamed against the deep umber of her skin. As always, her messenger, Eagal, the raven, perched upon her shoulder. The bird watched the queen’s assassin, unblinking.

“I had to, My Queen,” Bree answered, steeling herself for what was to come. “I was compromised.”

Mor’s full lips pursed. “How so?”

Bree drew in a deep, steadying breath. On the journey back to Caisteal Gealaich from The Ring of Caith, she’d tried not to dwell on what she’d just lost. Instead, she’d planned what she’d say to her queen. It had provided a welcome distraction.

She had to be careful. Only a fool underestimated Mor. Despite that Bree had served her faithfully for over two centuries, this mistake could send her to the pit—a cavern under the fortress where the ravenous wyrm dwelt.

She wasn’t keen to wrestle with the serpent.

“The chief-enforcer was suspicious of me from the start,” she began, choosing each word with care. “The High King hadforcedhim to take a wife. He was hostile and determined to be married in name only.” Her heart kicked then as she recalled all the times they’d clashed over the past moons. His coldness. His rudeness. And yet, she’d persisted, working her way under his skin like a thorn.

In doing so, she’d awoken something within him—within them both.

And now, she was forever altered.

Grief gripped hold of her throat then, its rough fingers squeezing tight, choking her.

Cailean.

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