28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

"When the heir accepts the mantle, beware, for the earth shall rise with their blood." – Lord Louis, Third Lord of Sídhetír.

T he clang of metal meeting metal broke through the agony piercing my mind and flesh. I could not breathe. My senses were too much. I saw too much. I felt too much. I was too much. I was Sídhetír and myself, and yet I felt like neither. I was a creature forged of flesh and blood mixed with magic and an ancient awareness.

Fae were everywhere. Blemishes in the human realm, though they were familiar to me. Humans were like flickering candles in the shadows. They belonged, and yet they were strangers.

I was on my feet before I recalled thinking about it. Oren fought two fae, bleeding. He would not give an inch as the fae struggled to reach me. Sídhetír and I were in accordance; we were one. I could not differentiate where I started and they ended. I stepped from the secret room, glass crunching under my boots, and raised a hand. The light fae seized, stopping in place. Oren jerked toward me, though I couldn't pay him any attention.

My hand curled into a fist, and the very air tightened around the two fae's throats. "You are not welcome in my home. You are not welcome in my realm. You are not welcome in Sídhetír."

I thrust them backward with nothing but magic, and they flew out of the window. Screams tore out of their throats as the gate dragged them to the fae realm. Never would they step on Sídhetír land again.

"Aidan," Oren called.

I walked past him without sparing him a glance. My feet led me out of the manor. The clatter of swords, the thunk of arrows, the bang of pistols, the screams of the injured, and the silence of the dead all rang within my ears. I stood on the steps, and Jonathan Byrne faltered. No magic came forth from his hand. He looked at me, then bowed. "Lord of Sídhetír."

Much like Oren, I heeded him not. I walked down the stairs, every stone familiar. The very dirt was known to me. The grass was known. The plants. The animals. The humans. All known to me.

Slowly, the fighting stopped as I impassively moved to Blodwen and Abnus. Blood dotted Abnus from the injuries inflicted by Blodwen and the others, while she bore only minimal scratches, as she'd remained safe in the middle of the horde for most of the battle.

"Lord Abnus, stand by Oren," I ordered.

"Yes, Sídhetír."

My head tilted to the side as I studied Blodwen. Cethin forced his way through the crowd to my side, but I could not focus on him. My eyes landed on the blood that coated her fingers and the dead who called out in silence for revenge.

"I told your queen I would kill you if you but hurt one human."

"And you mean to kill me, Lord Aidan? My queen will rip every human to shreds if you do. War and blood will spill with every breath." Blodwen grinned.

I stepped closer, my hand gripping the front of her gown. "I fear no one. Fae, human, nothing. I am Sídhetír, and you are nothing but meat."

Her smile died. She lifted her hands to attack, but it never came, for a shock went through her and she fell to the ground, dead.

"I am Sídhetír," I said, stepping over her body and toward the light fae. "You are not welcome." I shoved the air in front of me and the ground lurched at the same time, casting the fae into the sky as the gate snagged them. Their screams rang as they sailed out of Sídhetír.

I turned around, and the crowd bowed, except for Cethin. Jonathan placed a fist over his heart. "All hail the new Lord of Sídhetír."

"Aidan," Cethin called, but his voice came from a distance. Sídhetír held me within their grasp, and we were one and the same. "Aidan. Dearest. Let Sídhetír go." His hand grasped mine and his mouth pressed against my ear. "Remember who you are."

Trembling began in my hands as magic swirled beneath my skin. It was too much. I was too much.

"We are safe, Aidan. Let Sídhetír go before you are lost to it."

Sídhetír brushed their fingers across my chin and began to settle. The magic drifted away, leaving me empty but once again myself.

My eyes dropped to Blodwen's lifeless body at my feet, and bile burned my throat. I swallowed, but it didn't help. I fell to the ground, and the meager contents of my stomach emptied onto the grass. Cethin's hands smoothed over my back.

I shook my head. My lungs burned and my eyes wouldn't tear away from Blodwen. I'd killed her. I'd killed her.

Another hand joined Cethin's on my back. Jonathan pressed a kiss to the back of my head and whispered, "Sleep, Aidan. Rest. Allow us to protect you."

Like his words contained magic, I slumped against Cethin and gave into oblivion.