Page 149 of Atop the Faerie Throne
“I’ll let Jaro know what’s going on,” Bree says, resignation and caution battling in his tone. “Get her something to wear and be careful with her. She’s not healed enough for this.”
The redcap simply rolls his eyes in response, his arms wrapping around my middle. “Off on an ill-advised adventure, then, pet?”
I nod, swallowing as I try to work out how to make my voice work. “Danu wants me to go north. It’s not far, but it’s urgent.”
And hope, that fragile, cursed emotion, is fluttering cautiously alongside the suffering that I now recognise isn’t my own.
Because this… this feels big. The Goddess seems almost smug as Lore hastily tugs a loose wraparound dress over my body, avoiding touching my back at all.
The first blink isn’t far enough, and I clutch Lore’s arms, ignoring the hills around us.
“North,” I insist.
The next blink lands us at the bank of a vast river. “No. Too far.”
It becomes a tense kind of game, until finally, it isn’t any more. I sink to my knees beside a patch of dead grass nestled in a lonely misty moor, my fingers sinking into the ground.
“Here,” I whisper.
Lore stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
Maybe I have. I’m digging through the dirt with my bare hands. We’re completely alone, with no one for miles, and yet…
The dead patch is expanding, collapsing. My redcap pulls me back just as the ground begins to fall away and a cave entrance reveals itself.
Danu halts me when I try to scrabble into the gap. My gut revolting in reprimand.
“What in the Goddess’ name?” Lore mumbles as something deep in the crevice moves.
A familiar, tattooed blue arm claws over the edge, shaking with exertion, and I let out a sob torn from the depths of my soul.
Lore blinks forward, dragging Caed from the cave as I kneel in the wet grass, my heartbeat thudding in my ears as our mating bond flares bright, restored to its original glory.
My Fomorian’s free hand is tangled in a mass of dark, messy braids, which he only releases once they’re clear of the entrance.
“You’ve left our mate in the dirt, redcap,” Drystan scolds, his voice shaky as his head is dropped unceremoniously to the ground. “And where’s her cloak? Forget about the damned Fomorian and get her somewhere warm.”
Caed groans. “Fuck you, head. Redcap, don’t you dare let go. I can’t feel my fucking legs.”
That’s the final straw for my relieved, exhausted psyche. My fingers tingle, spine slumping as my body follows my mind into unconsciousness.
It isn’tuntil much later, when I’m bundled in blankets, cradled on Caed’s lap beside the fireplace, tracing my symbol on his palm with reverent fingers, that Drystan deigns to explain.
Goddess, I still can’t get used to the sight of him leaning against the mantle so casually, lit by the flames, his braids and golden eyes exactly as they always were.
“When you lost your bond, I made a somewhat brash decision,” he begins, and Lore cackles from his perch on the back of Caed’s chair.
“Brash? I thought Winter Court fae didn’t know the meaning of the word.”
Drystan rolls his eyes. “Shut it, redcap. I’m not explaining this a second time.”
I missed this so much. I’m wearing Lore’s hat, the warmth of it comforting after a heavy few days, and I tug it a little closer around my ears as I wait for my dullahan to continue.
“I… regretted my inability to break Caed’s curse. Seeing what it did to you both was unpleasant.”
Goddess, it’s obvious that admitting to two feelings in as many sentences is killing him, but I hold back my smile through sheer force of will.
I’m still waiting for the axe to drop. For him to tell me this isn’t real, or that Caed’s return is just some trick.
