Page 69 of Realm of Nightmares
Alarm shot down Tiernan’s spine, and he followed Aran’s gaze. There was nothing but snow-swept land for miles. “What’s wrong?”
The High Prince stood motionless, his emerald gaze scanning their surroundings. “It’s almost as though…I feel like we’re being followed.”
He lifted one shoulder, then let it fall, shrugging off the odd sensation.
Tiernan nodded stiffly. “I felt it, too. Right before we left Ashdara.”
Like something or someone was there, just out of sight.
Aran’s mouth pressed into a firm line, hardening his features. “Yet nothing seems amiss.”
Unsettling as it was, the fact was only made worse knowing they couldn’t see the inherent threat. Its presence was known, but it was invisible. Possibly even glamoured. If Maeve was with them, she’d detect it in a heartbeat.
The thought of hissirracaused his heart to twinge. A dull ache that would never ease, not until they were reunited.
But he couldn’t think of Maeve. Not now. He had to remain alert, his guard couldn’t falter. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by images of her, especially not ones where she was gloriously naked and riding him with reckless abandon.
He turned to face the looming forest before them. Hundreds of large evergreens protruded from the ground in a staggered line, their boughs so heavily layered with snow and frost, he was surprised the branches had yet to bow and snap. Their massive frames cast long shadows across the earth, swallowing the snowy ground in shades of gray. Crowded together like a hulking group of soldiers on the brink of war, the trees banded together, protecting their sacred space from intruders. Including any shred of light.
“You should know,” Tiernan began, his voice low. “The last time I walked into these woods, I almost died.”
Aran stared straight ahead into the ominous forest. “What are we up against?”
Memories ripped through his mind. Blood-soaked snow, most of it belonging to him. His flesh shredded by claws owned by ravenous creatures of the night. The brutal, agonizing pain and the dread of imminent death. But the worst of it was knowing it was going to happen, knowing he was going to be attacked. They’d stalked him for hours, damn near driving him mad with the pursuit, with the understanding of his eventual demise.
“There are monstrous beings within the Kethwyn Woods, cursed yet extraordinarily keen.” Tiernan swallowed down the knot of apprehension burning in the back of his throat. He rolled his neck from side to side, preparing, shaking off the distress. “They track their prey, hunting them to the point of delirium.”
“Lovely.” Aran’s teeth skimmed his bottom lip. “How did you escape them?”
“I killed them.” He met the High Prince’s questioning gaze. “All three of them. But it was barely enough. Had there been another one, had they been any stronger…I wouldn’t have survived.”
Aran watched him, his eyes flicking back to the forest. He straightened, pulling himself up to his full height. Nodding once, the High Prince inclined his head. “Say when, my lord.”
Bracing himself, Tiernan closed his eyes.
Instantly, he saw Maeve. Then Ceridwen. Lir, Merrick, and Brynn. He saw their smiles, heard their laughter as the reflections of his life flipped through his mind, blurring together in a stream of memories he kept within the most sacred part of his heart.
All he ever loved.
“Maeve.”He tried one more time, beckoning her, begging her to answer him through their bond. Through the Strand connecting their souls. The resounding quiet nearly broke him.
“I love you.”
Tiernan opened his eyes with acute clarity. He would face the dangers ahead of them if it meant there was a chance he could save all of Faeven, if he could bring Maeve back from the Ether. He would never yield, would never tire, would never quit. No matter what it took, no matter what it cost, he would fight until his final breath.
For his Court.
For his queen.
Tiernan secured an ironclad grip on his sword. Without looking back, they walked directly into the Kethwyn Woods.
ChapterTwenty-One
Maeve spent most of her birthday playing in the training courtyard of the House of Death with Cahira. She made for excellent company—she didn’t glare at her with condemnation like Laurel, and she didn’t ignore her very existence like Rowan.
She absolutely adored the youngfaolanand the pup followed her around, eager to remain by her side. Cahira was quick to learn, as well. It took Maeve no time at all to teach her how to sit and stay. Whenever Maeve told her to come, the wolfing took flight, soaring over the stone courtyard to reach her. But perhaps the most exciting skill was when Maeve spoke the wordsiocahn, Old Laic for frost, and Cahira ignited a tree at the far end of the grounds with frost fire.
Its spindly branches erupted in silvery flames that glinted like freshly fallen snow and etched ice crystals into the leaves. Blazing heat emanated from the frost fire, so severely cold it burned hot. The tree remained aflame until the whole of it froze solid and Maeve snapped one of its branches in half.It shattered around her like bits of broken glass, the pieces of it melting into nothingness once they hit the ground, dissolving completely.
