I had to fight fate. Deny destiny.
I had to leave Aveen—and my only chance at freedom—behind.
When I ripped myself away from her, it felt as if someone had torn me in two. She’d stolen a piece of me—a piece I would never get back. Not of my heart. I didn’t have one of those.
But of my soul.
Aveen whimpered when she collided with the bench. Seeing her plump lips swollen from mine was better than any of my fantasies.Instead of giving in to despair, I clung to my rage, knowing this was goodbye. “Get inside before I send you to the underworld myself,” I snarled, an empty threat from an empty man.
A bloodcurdling scream pierced the night.
I turned toward the roses where I’d abandoned Eithne. By the time I twisted back around, Aveen was gone.
9
I passedthe hideous tapestries documenting Danú history that did nothing but gather dust in the castle hallway. The only reason I hadn’t ripped them down and thrown them into the fire was because seeing the Queen’s ruthless face, the delight in her black eyes as she cradled the human heads she’d severed, spurred me on. Gave me purpose.
A purpose I’d abandoned in Graystones.
I made my way into the darkened family room, not bothering to light a fire.
Family room.
What about those of us without a family? Was it just a room? Who came up with the names of these places anyway?
I fell onto the sofa and shifted a bottle of faerie wine and a glass right as Tadhg strolled in.
“Abso-feckin-lutely not,” I ground out.
He froze mid-stride, seeming startled to find me sitting in the darkness.
“You don’t get to drink tonight,” I told him. Drinking tonight meant he’d be useless tomorrow. And I didn’t have it in me to do his job any longer.
“Who put the bee in your bonnet?”Tadhg dropped beside me on the cushion.
I sipped my drink, letting the question fade into the silence.
He shifted a glass and gave himself a generous pour, ignoring my scowl. If he was hungover tomorrow, Tearmann could go without a ruler, because I planned on drinking for the foreseeable future.
He sat there for the longest time, studying me, clinking his nail against the glass. “Muireann was asking for you.”
“So?”
“So, you always feel better after a dip in her pond.”
“I’m fine.”
“Clearly.” He smirked. “What’re we drinking to?”
“Love.”
He huffed a humorless chuckle, raising his drink toward mine. “To the one thing we need that we’ll never find.”
I tapped my glass against his, prepared to drown.
* * *
My mind. It was gone.Poof. Like a cloud. The faerie wine rotting in my gut wasn’t helping either. Every time I closed my eyes, I smelled roses. Every time I opened them, I found myself searching the darkness for golden curls and a smile as rare as snow in July.