Page 154 of Throne of Dreams
“Astora.”He lifted her gently, helping her to stand, enveloping her into him. Magic fell around her shoulders like a blanket. The lovely scent of orange blossom and cedarwood perfumed the air as he dried her clothing, her hair, her skin. Then his gaze landed on her arm, on the hole that had not yet fully healed. Blood continued to seep from the wound. A storm brewed in his eyes. “What happened?”
“Garvan tried to pull me off the railing during my escape.” She bit her lip, wincing as Lir held out his hand, a silent demand. “I was skewered in the process.”
“Fucking bastard,” Lir muttered. Lines furrowed across his brow. He looked pained. Troubled. “Let me see, little bird.”
She held out her arm for him to inspect it.
“I should’ve been there.” His tone was razor sharp. “This never would have happened if I had been there to protect you.”
Guilt. It was guilt that hammered his features into stone.
She offered him a small smile. “Just promise me you’ll be there next time to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”
The corner of his mouth ticked up. Just barely.
Brynn marched over, curls bouncing, with Ceridwen on her heels. She lightly ran her fingers over the wound and heat poured into Maeve’s skin. She almost sighed.
“What did you do? Impale yourself?”
“More or less. There were stakes positioned along the railing.” Maeve hissed as the heat intensified and the wound sealed itself, closing completely. “The mist from the waterfall made all the bars slippery. I’m surprised it wasn’t worse to be honest.”
“Stakes?” Ceridwen’s gaze snapped to Merrick. “You failed to mention that.”
He winced and ducked his head, pink bleeding into his cheeks. “A mistake.”
Thunder cracked and Merrick straightened, his head snapping up to face his High King. “And one that I won’t make again, my lord.”
“See that you don’t,” Tiernan rumbled. “Are you alright, Maeve? Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Her heart hurt, but she kept that much to herself. Though judging by the way Tiernan’s brow shot up in response, he’d obviously heard her thoughts.
Brynn continued to heal Maeve’s arm, her magic flowing through her until the pain dissipated. “It might leave a scar.”
Maeve glanced up at Tiernan, and the corner of his lip curved into his signature half smile.
“Nothing I can’t fix.” He nodded toward the group. “A moment, please.”
They exchanged looks but headed to the forest’s edge without question.
Tiernan took her hands in his and held them clasped against the hard wall of his chest. “Tell me what’s bothering you. Why does your heart hurt?”
So, he had heard her thoughts.
“I took five innocent lives tonight.” She dropped her head, images of the painting of the Autumn soldier with his little family flashing through her mind and she bit her lip to keep from crying.
“They would’ve stopped you from escaping, Maeve.” He released her hands and tilted her chin up with one finger. “You did what any of us would’ve done.”
His words didn’t ease the self-condemnation building inside her. “I’m not so sure.”
“What do you mean?”
“There was a female soldier. She came upon me right as I killed the fourth guard. She called me a cold-blooded killer and said I was no different than Garvan.” Even as she said it, traitorous tears slid down her cheeks.
Tiernan wiped them away with his thumbs, softly caressing the skin just beneath her eyes. “She doesn’t know your heart.”
“She didn’t need to, but she helped me escape.” Maeve blinked, a poor attempt to will the tears away. “She implied that every soldier I killed would’ve helped me, if only I had asked. She wasn’t loyal to Garvan. I don’t think any of them were.”
His arms came around her then, embracing her and she welcomed his strength, burying her face in his chest. “There’s no way she would know such a thing. And it’s impossible for you to have known either.”
