Page 7 of Void of Endings
That fucking fae.
Tiernan fisted his hands at his sides, enraged. For weeks he’d waited for Maeve to come back to Niahvess, back to him. He’dlonged for her. Ached for her. He brought the full force of his magic down upon his city when her fear of whatever she faced in the Ether had ravaged him like his own affliction. Countless nights had been spent lying awake, wondering if he’d ever see her again. Hell, he’d even made that damned journey all the way to Maghmell just to find a way to bringS her back home, back to him. All of it, only to stand here now, and see her in the arms of another.
Thunder echoed in the distance, the promise of a storm of his making.
Lir came to stand beside him, sheathing both of his swords.
“Another time, my lord.” He nodded to where Maeve and Rowan were encircled with shadows. “He is all she knows.”
Godsdamnit.
“You’re here.” Maeve leaned back, her gaze searching for something beyond Rowan. “But how are you here?”
“It would appear my fate has been decided.” Rowan’s shadows drew back, gradually dwindling. “I’ve come to help you fight the war against Parisa.”
Tiernan took note of the poignancy of his words. To fight, not to win.
Maeve stepped back and Tiernan relaxed slightly.
She peered up at him, through the swirl of shadows. “Aed sent you back?”
“He did.” Rowan glanced behind him. “I brought you something.”
He let out a low whistle and all of a sudden a whitefaolandarted from out of the shadows.
“The fuck.” Tiernan instantly reached for his sword as flashbacks of his near death experience in the Kethwyn Woods slammed into him, stealing his breath.
The beast rushed Maeve, and he readied to pierce the white ball of fur through the heart, hesitating only when he saw Maeve drop to her knees and cuddle the wolfling.
“Cahira!” Maeve cried as the pup bounded into her lap. She ran her fingers over thefaolan’s fur, smiling brightly up at Rowan. “Thank you.”
Again, Tiernan’s gut twisted with resentment.
At once, Ceridwen, Brynn, and Saoirse were all clamoring around thefaolanwith the vivid blue jewel glowing on its forehead. A frostfaolan, then. The females practically melted as though they’d never seen a pet before, cooing over the pup, ruffling its fur, their voices far more high-pitched than usual.
“Oh, isn’t she just beautiful?” Ceridwen crooned.
“The prettiest little wolfling I ever did see,” Saoirse agreed.
Tiernan silenced his groan. Unbelievable.
“Well.” Ceridwen stood, attempting to regain her composure, her face beaming. She looked over at Rowan. “This is unexpected.”
He offered her a small bow. “It’s good to see you again, my lady.”
She curtsied in kind, demure and once more the epitome of an Archfae. “And you, my lord.”
Merrick and Rowan clasped forearms in greeting, the hunter nodding in a show of respect. “How was it in the Ether, Rowan?”
Rowan remained focused on Maeve, his eyes never leaving her. “Delightfully informative.”
It was then Tiernan saw it, the Astralstone glinting from Rowan’s waist.
“So,” he drawled, “you’re the Nightweaver.”
Rowan straightened, his hand gliding lightly over the hilt where the dagger gleamed like midnight and thousands of stars. His smile was slow and precise. “At your service.”
Tiernan’s chest hollowed out. Maeve and Rowan. The Dawnbringer and the Nightweaver. He couldn’t help it, uncertainty carved its way deep inside of him. He told himself Maeve would never do anything to betray his trust, just as he would always remain faithful to her…but she and Rowan shared a very particular past. They’d been intimate with one another, to an extent, and it was the combining of their power, the sacrifice of their ancient love for one another, that created the first fae to walk the realm.
