Page 128 of Beyond the Faerie Gate

“Bashed into a wall.” Caed shrugs as he lies effortlessly. “These things have a habit of jumping out at me, I’m afraid. I really should look where I’m going.”

It’s not a full lie—or she’d know—but he left out the twins’ involvement in bashing him into said wall.

I’m not sure whether to punch him again for misleading her, of all people, or to hug him for soothing the Goddess’s ire before Rose accidentally murdered two of her best knights.

Thankfully, his deception works. All the tension in Rose’s frame evens out and she blinks at him, confused.

She’s still unused to her possessive fae instincts and her connection to the Goddess. She’s probably wondering why she was suddenly so mad over such a relatively small injury. I’m surprised she hasn’t demanded his release yet.

If she does, I’ll have to put my foot down. I bite the inside of my cheek, silently praying she doesn’t ask.

“I want it gone,” she murmurs, still staring at his face. “Titania?”

“Rose…” My warning tone is ignored.

“Give me your hand,” she orders Caed. Like before, her voice shimmers slightly with an underlying tone which isn’t her own.

Shit. Too late, I realise the Goddess never retreated. She’s still there.

Rose takes one step past me, towards the bars, then another.

She’s going to give away what her magic is to the Fomorian.

Or worse, put herself close enough that he can snap her neck through the bars.

“Rosie,” I begin.

Her head swings around, violet eyes pinning me to the spot. They burn with an inner fire that makes it clear I’m not just speaking to my mate right now. She’s not angry—not exactly—I don’t know how to label the emotions I see in her face. Frustration? Sadness?

“We can get a different healer for him,” I promise. “Don’t waste your magic.”

Rose turns, dismissing me without a word, and holds her own hands out to Caed.

The Fomorian frowns, staring at her like he can’t figure her out. Slowly, cautiously, he extends one hand.

The one with the mangled mark.

The noise that tears free of the tiny queen’s throat is somewhere between a growl and a snarl. Definitely not a sound I’m used to hearing from her. It should sound cute or non-threatening, given her stature, but instead, the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

She takes his blue hand in both of hers and stares at the distorted lines of her skull and rose mark.

This time, when she speaks, her voice is completely warped.

“I gave your forefathers many chances to submit. To accept a place of honour among my people as equals. Each time, they snubbed my generosity for the sake of their own pride. Now, they choose to try to deny my claim to one of my own? This will not stand.”

A glowing hand appears at Rose’s shoulder, slowly growing until it’s an entire arm, and forming into the glowing, ghostly outline of a tall, proud fae woman who’s been dead for thousands of years.

Nicnevin Titania.

In the… erm… spiritual flesh?

Rose’s power sweeps through the room, washing over me and filling the dungeon with the scent of meadows and spring air. The sound of birds cawing breaks the quiet, and it takes me a few seconds to realise what I’m experiencing.

The Otherworld.

Caed flinches, but Rose has a solid grip on his hand. As I watch, his crooked nose rights itself, and the mark on his palm slowly becomes clearer and clearer.

The fresh meadow scent dissipates, and the birdsong disappears entirely before Rose pulls away, swaying on her feet. Caed’s hand almost looks like it was never burned in the first place. Nicnevin Titania leans in and presses a soft kiss to her granddaughter’s head, then releases her shoulder and disappears—though I can’t be certain if she’s actually gone.

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