37. Keira

Chapter 37

Keira

I pace the lavish sitting room of my apartments, while my brother sits on the edge of a dark violet couch. Agitation makes my muscles taut, ready to flee. “I have made a horrible mistake, Diarmuid. I cannot marry him.” My stomach churns at the idea.

“That error of judgment belongs to our entire family.” Diarmuid tips his head back and gulps down his entire glass of sherry. “It is not right how they treat their women here. You were not born to be silent and powerless.”

I pause in front of Diarmuid, frowning while the cogs of my mind whirl.

“Oh no. I know that look.” Diarmuid straightens. “You’re about to do something wildly reckless and drag me into it.”

“I’m going to tell Finan I will not marry him. That I will become a priestess instead.”

Diarmuid leans forward in his seat, excitement rippling over his face. “Finally! I’ve already told you I don’t want you to marry him. We have to plan carefully and do this the smart way. We will go straight to the Sanctuary of Magic in the city first thing in the morning, and have them mediate on your behalf, while you are in a position of strength and safety. The Mothers of Magic will not be intimidated. We have no idea how he will react, but it won’t be pleasant.”

A sense of relief washes through me so hard and fast that my legs feel weak. I collapse onto a couch.

Diarmuid rises and stalks toward the bar, pouring long drinks for each of us. “We will work out the details tonight, then pack our bags. We leave at first light, before the palace wakes up, but when it is safe to walk the city streets.”

My brother approaches me, arm stretched out to offer me the crystal glass, when a pounding shakes the door to my apartment in its frame. He shoots me a startled look. “Who would be visiting you at this hour of the night?”

“I have no idea.” Shivers run down my spine because I have an inkling.

“Stay here,” Diarmuid orders, a rare seriousness falling over him as he curls my fingers around the glass.

My heart races and I can’t sit still, as I listen to the bolts being removed from my door. I take a sip of the sweet sherry to quell my nerves, but the alcohol does little for me.

“My sister has retired for the night. She doesn’t take visitors at this hour.” Diarmuid’s anger travels to me.

“Prince Finan has requested her company.” A gruff voice replies. My stomach tumbles with dread.

“Like I said, she has retired for the night. Tell him she will keep him company tomorrow. In the afternoon, perhaps. She does like to sleep in.” Those words are followed by the sound of the door hitting something and reverberating, as though Diarmuid tried to slam it in the guard’s face and it hit his foot obstructing it instead.

“The prince was very adamant that he would not be refused. It is not that late. He said he will come here if he has to.” The guard grumbles. Others snicker, telling me Finan sent multiple guards. “I would hate to drag her there by force.”

“It is not proper,” Diarmuid grounds out.

“Look, boy, if I have to beat and restrain you just to do my job, I will. The royals don’t take no for an answer. The prince said he wants to talk to her. That he has questions to be answered. That is all. Come with us and escort her, or we leave you here and take her alone.”

“He. Can. Wait.”

My hands shake, threatening to spill my drink as I place it on the table. There is no universe where I will allow Diarmuid to take a beating for me. I walk as though through water, finding him in the entrance, glaring almost nose to nose with the guard, lips peeled back from his teeth.

“I will talk to him,” I say quickly and Diarmuid gives me a murderous look. “But I need a few moments of privacy to fix my hair.”

The guard nods and allows Diarmuid to close the door. My brother immediately turns on me. “Are you insane? Finan is a loose cannon. He clearly only wants one thing from you at this time of the night and we have no idea how he will react if you say no.”

“I am aware, Diarmuid. Do not forget that I am far from helpless. My entire adult life, I have come running like an over-eager puppy whenever he has called for me. If I refuse now, he will be suspicious. I cannot have him post guards on my door tonight or attempt to lock me in my chambers, if we want to escape unnoticed tomorrow morning.

“I will talk to him, and I won’t allow him to do anything else. If he is insistent, I will tell him we will get the priestesses’ approval that it won’t hurt an unborn babe on the morrow, that he only has to wait one more day. Finan is many things, but he is not a rapist, nor would he be able to physically overpower my magic.”

“Fuck, Keira.” Diarmuid drags his eyes away from me. “It’s bloody dire when you have to reassure me about rape. I’m coming in that room with you.”

We stare at each other for a long moment. “Our hands are tied. You have to trust that I can take care of myself,” I say.

The doors crash open and multiple guards funnel in. One flicks his head at me. “Time to go, my lady.”

It feels like I am walking to a death sentence, flanked by three guards, as we make our way to Finan’s chambers.

There are more royal guards at Finan’s door, and I wonder why I don’t get the same protection. They announce our presence and Finan arrives in the doorway with a slow, self-satisfied smile growing on his face as he sees me.

Something about it is so off.

I become frozen in place.

“Ah, Keira, I have a question for you.” Finan leans forward and grabs my arm, pulling me between the guards, through the doorway and behind him. Diarmuid tries to follow, but Finan puts a hand on his chest and pushes him backward. “I’ll take good care of her. Your presence isn’t needed here, druid.”

My brother bristles at the dismissal. “I am Keira’s custodian and escort. My presence is required until you are married.”

“Is that so?” Finan cocks an eyebrow. “I’m sure there are some things a brother doesn’t want to witness.”

“Finan, don’t bait him. You said you want to talk. Diarmuid can join us for that,” I snap, my patience with this man wearing thin.

“Yes. We need to talk.” Finan turns on me, anger flashing across his face then gone a moment later. With a flick of his wrist, he motions for the guards to restrain Diarmuid. I get a glimpse of my brother’s red-faced fury as he tries to push through the five guards that hold him back, striking one in the face with an elbow. The prince watches them with fascination, like it is the most entertainment he has had in days.

“Diarmuid, it's okay,” I say.

The two guards have him in a chokehold. “I clearly don’t have a choice.” He spits. “I will be right out here. Call out if you need me and I will tie these oafs up in chains of air and barge in for you.”

A chill runs down my spine. If we use our superior magic on any of these people, it will be a royal offence. God, Diarmuid even barging into Finan’s chambers without invitation is borderline treason.

A guard slams the door and all sight and sound from the corridor is shut out.

“Would you like a drink?” Finan asks in a chirpy tone, walking away without waiting for my answer. His steps are uneven as he staggers slightly. When he glances back over his shoulder and tips his head for me to follow, I notice his eyes are glazed and veined with red. Gods. He is drunk.

I follow him with my heart in my throat to a large sitting room with multiple velvet couches and a full bar. Finan moves for the crystal decanter on the low table in the center of the room, pouring red wine into two glasses but not bothering to hand mine to me.

I hover nervously beside a couch, every alarm bell going off in my head.

“Sit, Keira. I only have one question for you.” Finan motions for the armchair beside the one he has taken and I crumble into it. He leans forward, so our knees are touching and his face is inches from mine. The predatory look within them sends my stomach tumbling. “Are you or are you not pregnant to the magic?”

“I – I don’t know yet. It is too early to?—”

“LIES!” He throws his crystal glass and it smashes across the opposite wall. Crimson wine runs down it in rivulets like blood. Finan rears over me, his hands on each of my armrests so he can snarl down into my face. “I just had the most interesting dinner with my cousin. She is also a Mother of Magic. Do you know what she said to me, Keira?” I stare at him, unmoving and wide-eyed, but it only antagonizes him. “DO YOU KNOW what she said?”

I shake my head at him, too afraid to speak.

Finan takes a lock of my hair and tenderly tucks it behind my ear. “She said a Mother of Magic with even a scrap of healing ability can tell if a pilgrim returns pregnant to the magic almost immediately. That they can feel the magic growing in the womb. It doesn’t take a month and a man’s touch won’t hurt the unborn babe. Not even fucking. That this is the typical excuse given by a returned pilgrim who doesn’t want to be touched.”

I draw in a sharp breath and recoil from him.

“My true question, Keira, is why my future bride suddenly doesn’t want to fuck me. Why she has been lying to stay out of my bed.”

I forget to breathe. My brain comes to a jarring halt as rational thought seems to wither up and die. “I don’t want to marry you, Finan. I want to dedicate myself to the temple instead. ”

Finan throws back his head and roars with laughter. In a heartbeat, he rears back from the couch, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet.

“What are you doing?” I trip as he drags me through the sitting room, toward the corridor beyond.

“Clearly, you need a good fuck to remember why you want me.” A smile still splits his lips. “I think you spent too much time around those fae monsters in the Otherworld to remember what it’s like to be with a real man.”

His audacity flares up my temper, especially when he has never shown me true pleasure. I rip my hand out of his grasp and almost send him flying into one of the long recliners. “I am serious, Finan! I am NOT going to sleep with you. I’m NOT going to marry you.”

He rights himself then stalks to me. The hard glint in his eye and thin twist to his lips has me backing away from him, but I’m too slow. He grabs me and crushes me against his chest. I can hardly breathe from the tight vice of his arms around me.

“You will marry me.” He growls in my ear.

“No.” I sob. “It is not your choice.”

His fingers dig painfully into my flesh. “You don’t get to leave me . You are mine. My property. My woman. You always have been. The entire kingdom knows it.” His nostrils flare and his eyes are wild with rage. “We will marry in two weeks.”

“It is my right to dedicate myself to the temple,” I struggle against him.

“You don’t understand, Keira.” Finan’s face is inches from mine, his lips pulled into a snarl. “You. Are. Mine.” He shakes me hard, my head whipping back and forwards. “Your place is at my side, whether you want it or not. You will learn to accept this life. It is the only one you will get.”

He finally lets go of his hold on me, to jab a finger painfully into my chest, and I stumble back a step.

An ugly fear unfurls within me at the threat of violence rippling through him. I scurry back from him, around the low central table between the couches, as he stalks me .

I have never seen this side of him, and it terrifies me. It is so much like King Willard.

“Say it,” Finan barks at me. “SAY IT! Say you love me. Say you will marry me.”

I flinch at the aggression rolling off him and begin to cower before him. He has always held dominion over me.

Then I remember the woman I have grown into is so vastly different from that soft, naive girl who thought she loved him. I dared to cross into the fae realm. I fought against high fae and killed an Assassin of Belladonna. I outsmarted and outmaneuvered the king of the Spring Court and gained his respect. Aldrin’s affections.

Oh gods, Aldrin. The very thought of his name gives me courage. If I can find the strength to leave Finan, then maybe I could find a way back to Aldrin.

Fire courses through my veins. How dare Finan demand all of me, my life, my body and my heart, when he has never deserved any of it.

I straighten my spine. “You cannot hold me against my will, Finan. You are not my husband and you have no claim over me. I WILL become a priestess and no one will stop me. Your guards, your armies, and your father will not dare to challenge the Mothers of Magic!”

“I have no claim to you? NO CLAIM?” Finan sweeps his arm across the low table beside us, throwing the decanter and glasses to the ground. I jump at the crashing of the breaking crystal. “You will act like my wife and you will do as I say.”

“No. I deserve more than to be a pretty little accessory on your arm.” I lean into him, and practically spit. “And you are going to have to learn to accept that.”

Finan moves so fast I don’t stand a chance at blocking him, wrapping his hand around my throat and pushing me backward until my back crashes into the wall.

Pain radiates up my spine from the impact and explodes within my shoulders, but it is nothing compared to the vice around my windpipe. My breath wheezes as I drag it in, and those biting fingers bruise the delicate flesh around my neck .

A deep pain slices through me at the betrayal. At my own stupidity for expecting anything else from him.

“Do you see what you have made me do? I will never let you go.” Finan’s hand loosens only slightly. “I will never stop fighting for you. If I have to lock you up in this palace until you cooperate, then I will. If I need to beat you into submission, into a proper wife, then I will. You. Are. Mine.”

For a moment, I am a startled rabbit, caught within the jaws of a wolf.

“Take your hands off me, Finan,” I choke out but he pushes his shoulder hard against my chest, slamming me against the wall a second time. My head cracks against the plaster. In a small mercy, his fingers leave my throat.

“Not until you take back what you said.” His breath is hot against my ear.

“You have one last chance to take your hands off me, or I will do it for you.” I don’t move, push, or claw at him. I don’t need to.

Finan’s shoulder and hips press tighter into me, making the air whoosh out of my lungs.

I am not helpless to this man. I will not be his victim anymore.

The strands of my hair rise in a phantom breeze as I gather air around me, looping thick tendrils of it between us. I wrap them around Finan like a rope, then with a quick tug he is pulled backward, away from me.

His eyes flare as he stumbles, then the color drains from his face as I bind his arms to his sides. With a thrust of air aimed at his chest, I knock him backward into an armchair, tying him to it.

“Keira—wait!” Finan yelps, fear flashing across his face. That stupid ringlet of blue-black hair I used to love so much falls over his face.

I place a gag of air in his mouth so I don’t have to hear him speak again.

It is too far, by the gods I know it, but I cannot stop myself when my temper flares.

Pushing off the wall, I approach Finan slowly and lean over him. He wiggles desperately in his bindings, as though he thinks I’m going to slit his throat while he is vulnerable.

“No one owns me,” I snarl at him. “No one has mastery over my body or my future, last of all you.”

I turn on my heel and walk toward the door. Shards of crystal crunch under my feet. I give him one last glance over my shoulder. “Goodbye, Finan.”

As I exit his apartment, both guards raise their eyebrows at me.

“Done already?” One asks me, while the other laughs.

“The prince doesn’t need very much time,” I say, winking at them. “He has gone to bed with a headache after his…exertion. He doesn’t want to be disturbed.”

Diarmuid pushes off the wall from his leaning position, his eyebrows furrowed and gaze roaming over me. I grab his elbow and set a fast pace.

“We need to get out of here. Immediately. Things didn't go well,” I mutter under my breath.

“Did he hurt you? Touch you?” Panic flashes on Diarmuid’s features.

We pass around a corner and it is all I can do to stop myself from breaking into a run. My brother grabs my shoulders, forcing me to stop, and searches my face. “Talk to me, Keira. What happened?”

I let out a long breath. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and tried to intimidate me with aggression.”

Diarmuid’s eyes harden as rage flashes within them. He turns and stalks back in the direction of Finan’s rooms. “I will kill him myself.” Embers spark across his hair. Raw power crackles across his skin and jolts me as I touch his arm.

I pull him back. “What about your druid's oaths against violence?”

“To the soul ripper with my oath,” he snaps.

“It’s dealt with Diarmuid. I stopped him before it escalated.” My stomach rolls at what I have done, but I don’t regret it. “I lost my temper and tied him up in ropes of air. I left him like that. We have to get out of here before?—”

“By the fucking gods, Keira!” Diarmuid exhales .

“What? You were just going to kill him!”

“I don’t think I have ever been more proud of you.” Diarmuid takes my arm and leads me down the corridor. “I don’t know what our parents were thinking, sending the two of us to the royal court together. Between us we would have committed treason and murder.”

My legs turn shaky. “I did commit treason, didn’t I?”

“We can’t let you fall into shock yet. We need to leave the palace now. Get out of the city before your magic wears off and Finan calls his guards,” Diarmuid says.

The corridor forks and I drag him down one passageway abruptly.

“Where are you taking us? This leads away from the stables,” he protests.

“To the library. Ever since I returned from the fae world, my power has grown immensely. I spent months eating their food, drinking their water and breathing their air. Everything in their lands is imbued with magic. I think I can open the Appleshield portal to take us home. There is already some charge in it.”

“I should have known you would get us into huge fucken trouble within the first month of us arriving here.” Diarmuid shakes his head. “Though this is on Finan.”

I smile wickedly at my brother.

Freedom is so close I can taste it.

We travel through the library at a brisk place, the aisles flying past us. My heart drops as we pass that set of bookshelves leading to the fae texts, deliberately hidden in darkness. That vault beyond could have been invaluable for Aldrin’s aims, full of forbidden texts with the truth of the fae and the Great War. It is a lost opportunity that could change the world.

There isn’t even a single scholar down here.

The ring of portals glow faintly in the library's dimness. I pull Diarmuid by the arm to the gate that leads to Appleshield Castle. Its surface isn’t smooth like I thought, but has thousands of tiny, subtle facets like the face of a gemstone. The colors embedded in the milky moonstone glitter under the minimal light .

“Do you know how to open a portal, by any chance?” I ask sheepishly.

His jaw drops. “Hold on, didn’t you say you could do it? You led me here instead of the stables because you said you could open it.”

“I believe I have enough power to do it…”

Diarmuid shakes his head. “I’ve read about it in my studies. We need to channel our raw, unformed power into the moonstone. That is all.”

We place our hands on the cold stone, and a shiver runs down my spine. I close my eyes and focus on its textured surface, as I pull at the power coiling within my center, feeding it into the portal.

It flows in a trickle at first, unaccustomed as I am to wielding my magic unshaped. I open myself up gradually with great effort and streams of liquid fire and the coldest of ice courses out of me. It feels like water being forced through a crack in a dam, until the wall containing it is shattered and a roaring onslaught pours in freefall from me into the moonstone.

I am being burnt from the inside, scoured clean, but it doesn't hurt. A tugging sensation pulls at my essence through my hands, dragging out more of my power. It lasts for an eternity, this striving for my salvation, then ceases all at once.

Intense relief almost knocks me from my feet as I am greeted by the radiant glow of the activated portal. Swirling mists escape from within its arch, coiling around our feet as though it is eager to lead us back home.

I want to laugh and cry at the same time. It feels like I have run for hours.

“We did it?” Diarmuid pants. “We actually did it! Two people to open a portal.”

I grab him by the hand and pull him toward the open gate. “You can gloat about it when we are safely home.”

Diarmuid hesitates at the white nothingness within the mists and shoots me a frantic glance.

“It doesn’t hurt.” I squeeze his hand and tug him through.

I expect a blank landscape of stark white, with rolling mists that extend as far as the eye can see, like when I traveled to the Otherworld, but I am wrong. The other portal is only a dozen steps away, and the gardens of Appleshield are visible through it. A tunnel of blindingly bright mists forms walls between the two portal openings.

The contrast gives a stark testament to how far away the fae world is to my own. Why we have to rely on the alignments of planets and tears in the fabric of space to reach it. A deep loneliness fills me at the distance between Aldrin and I. That I won’t be able to see his planet amongst the stars in my night sky.

We step out into the crisp night air of a mild summer night and I want to collapse into a heap. My whole body starts to shake now that I am in the safety of my own home. Emotions rolls wildly through me and my nerves are completely frayed.

The full gravity of what I have done tonight hasn’t hit me yet. The consequences of it. Not only the political fallout from calling off the wedding, but that I physically bound a prince and heir to the throne.

There is nothing I can do about it now.

I turn around, taking in the neglected garden. Tall weeds sprout on the gravel path and wild, overgrown rose bushes spill out of the garden beds. Behind us is the tall willow tree with fire-red blooms draping down its branches. This is the garden where I used to take Finan whenever I put his needs and his pleasure above mine. How ironic that it is my saviour when I needed to escape him.

A manic, uncontrolled laugh boils out of me.

“Don’t lose it yet.” Diarmuid shoots a glance at me while he crouches at the portal. “We need to shut this thing down so they cannot follow us.”

I place my hands on the portal. Instinct has me draw all that magic back into myself. The glow of the moonstones slowly fades until there is no more power humming within it.

“I didn’t know we could take the power back,” I murmur.

Diarmuid shrugs.

My legs are unsteady as we walk from the neglected Old Fae Garden, between the greenhouses of the orchards and toward the keep. Diarmuid steers me with a hand clutching my elbow, while my whole body still shakes from adrenaline.

The bridge spanning the deep valley before our fortress is an ominous sight, seeming to lead nowhere through the darkness and hovering over inky shadows. It takes all of my willpower to put one foot in front of the other and cross. My mind conjures up Assassins of Belladonna moving through the night, but that is pure fantasy. They wouldn’t venture into this realm.

We approach the blocky form of the guardhouse illuminated by multiple braziers. The sentries call out an order and guards snap into a defensive formation, pointing their spears at us and blocking the passageway.

“Who approaches!” a female sentry’s voice calls from the top of the wall. “Step into the light!”

Diarmuid gives me a half-smile, then leads us into the glow of multiple fire orbs hovering around the gate. Guards almost have a heart attack at the sight of us, two noble figures adorned in rich silks. Their panic rises as they recognize us. Immediately, one is sent running to the keep, probably to alert our father and a whole team of servants of our arrival.

“My lady Keira? Lord Druid Diarmuid?” a guard asks, rushing to us.

Diarmuid smirks at the title they give him. They can never quite bring themselves to address him as a druid alone.

“Are you hurt?” The guard’s eyes dart across us. “Did you travel here on horseback through the night? Where are your mounts?”

“We are not hurt, Liam.” I place a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t balk at the familiarity; we have joined the hunt together too many times for that. “We traveled through the portal.”

The guards don’t look relieved.

“I will escort you both to the castle myself.” Liam turns around and barks a few orders at the soldiers left in the guardhouse. Diarmuid goes to protest, but I give him a slight shake of the head. The guards would be mortified if we took this responsibility away from them, especially Liam .

“There have been all manner of fae trespassing in the woods while the portals were held open.” Liam wrings his hands as he speaks. “Somehow some got through the priestess’s wards around the portal interchange.” Strange. I have never known him to fear low fae before. Surely hunts continued while I was gone.

“Have you forgotten my sister is one of our greatest fae hunters?” Diarmuid raises an eyebrow.

“No my lady, no my Lord Druid,” visible beads of sweat form on Liam’s brow. “It is just that you don’t look armed, and there have been reports of high fae lurking in the fields around the castle of late.”

My heart stutters to a stop. Surely not.

“There are no high fae here, Liam.” The sentry on the wall calls down to us. “The lord protector himself would know of it and hunt them down personally. What you have heard are stories that have been twisted in too many tellings.”

Liam glances up to that women, now crouching on the ramparts of the wall above us. “There have been strange men lurking here, armed for war.”

The sentry laughs. “A few fruit thieves are not the same as high fae.”

Liam scowls. He continues to mutter about high fae as he leads us through the castle grounds. A hope is born within me. One I do not dare acknowledge.