“So where can we find your kid?”
Chapter 12
Flann had the carriage waiting for them when they emerged from the palace. With one striking change. Instead of the four inky black horses that had pulled the rig on the journey to the Light Clan, the team for the journey home consisted of four gleaming white unicorns.
Regan thought for certain she would be seeing rainbows for a month.
“I can’t believe Mel is the daughter of a fae god,” Winnie said from the other side of the carriage.
“It is...” Cathair frowned. “Surprising.”
From what Winnie said after Peter emerged from the Tastail Tine, one of her human friends was actually the child of Belemus. Regan thought the odds of two humans with connections to the fae realm becoming close friends was more than coincidence. Perhaps their magic drew them to each other.
“You’re sure he said Mel?” Winnie asked Peter for the tenth time. “Mel Ackerman?”
Peter looked away from the window and nodded. “Melania Ackerman.”
“I just can’t believe it,” she said again.
Winnie fell back against the cushions, shaking her head in disbelief. The prince leaned back and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and the pair lost themselves into each other’s thoughts.
They seemed so happy together. It was rare for a royal to find a love match, not when clan alliances were made through marriage. She was truly pleased for the prince.
Regan wondered what it would feel like to have such a comfortable relationship with another person—human or fae. She did not know if she could ever actually connect with another in that way. She had been alone for so long, giving all of her time and energy into her work. Only in her private thoughts did she make room for anyone else. For Prince Aedan.
As her mind drifted to the younger prince, she pictured him as she had last seen him, standing on the palace steps in his formal uniform to address the crowd on the anniversary of the Trocaire. Regan waited for the racing heart and swell of emotion that always arrived with thoughts of him. But those sensations did not come.
Instead, she felt only worry. Only concern that her prince was yet in danger.
She supposed that was to be expected.
Peter shifted slightly on the seat, and Regan turned to study him. Since emerging from the gate, eyes a touch wild but otherwise seemingly unharmed, he had been different. More somber and quiet than his usual joking and jovial nature.
She sensed no negative emotions, but still something had changed in him.
For some reason she could not name, she reached out and placed her palm over his hand where it rested on the bench.
He looked away from the window, turned his gaze down to where their hands met.
“Are you well?” she asked quietly. “You seem out of sorts.”
His mouth lifted up to one side to form a half smile. “I am now.”
There was something quite intimate in how he said the words. Instinct made her start to draw away.
But before she could pull her hand back, he turned his over and laced their fingers together. Her heartbeat quickened as a shiver of sensation raced up her arm.
“When I was in there,” he said, his voice barely a whisper only she could hear, “I wanted to quit. The pain—what I thought was pain—was so overwhelming that I almost gave up.”
Regan could not look away from their joined hands. “But you did not.”
“Thanks to you.”
He traced his thumb in small circles over her wrist, an echo of the motion he had made on the small of her back when the warriors of the Light Clan surrounded them. It had the same calming effect.
“Your voice,” he said, “your words, just knowing you were right there beyond the gate—that kept me sane.” His thumb froze over her pulse point. “You kept me strong.”
Her blood pounded against his thumb.
Regan could not think of the right words to say. There was something powerful happening in that moment, and she was afraid she might ruin it.
In the end, all she could say was, “I’m glad.”
She had only ever experienced these feelings, the racing heart and the bubble in her chest, when she thought of Aedan. She had never experienced the feeling that a simple touch, just hands laced together, could make everything seem well with the world.
That she was experiencing those many feelings now, with someone in real life—with a human—was, at the very least, surprising.
They had only been together for hours, less than a single day, and yet she felt as if they had known each other for half their lives.
She wondered if, in another day, it would feel like an entire lifetime.
The carriage pulled suddenly to a halt. Regan spun around, surprised to see they had already reached the Moraine castle. It seemed unicorns traveled faster than ordinary fae horses.
Cathair was already pushing open the door when Tearloch appeared at the carriage’s side.
“He has been found,” the captain of the Royal Guard shouted. “Prince Aedan has been found.”
Regan’s heart stuttered.
“Where?” the prince demanded. “Is he here?”
Tearloch shook his head. “He is being held in the wasteland between the Deachair territory and the lands of the Urthail. We are mounting a rescue party to depart immediately.”
He was alive. Aedan was alive. She wanted to shout to the treetops and sob with relief.
The prince leapt from the carriage and then turned to help Winnie down. But she was already jumping to the ground on her own.
Regan quickly followed, with Peter right behind her.
“Go,” Winnie told the prince. “The rest can wait.”
Cathair appeared conflicted. “Ultan must be stopped. At any cost.”
“I’ll take care of it,” she insisted. “I’ll get Mel and bring her back here.”
“You should not go alone,” the prince said. He turned and scanned the crowd of soldiers gathering for the rescue party. “Liam!”
The captain of the Palace Watch appeared almost instantly. “Yes, my prince?”
“I need you to stay here. Help Winnie.” At the captain’s frown, he added, “She will explain the situation.”
Liam’s gaze flicked to the future queen and back to his prince. “Yes, my prince.”
Then Cathair swept Winnie into a embrace and kissed her as though they were alone in all the world. Regan felt her cheeks burn.
“Go,” Winnie said, pushing the prince away. “Bring Aedan home. I’ll be waiting when you get back.”
As the prince strode toward the gathered troops, Tearloch turned to Regan. “Do you ride with us?”
Earlier that day, she would not have hesitated. But now she looked to Peter.
He flashed her an understanding grin. “I’m fine,” he told her. “Your prince needs you.”
But he didn’t understand.
She wanted to explain, to tell him that things had changed. That her feelings had changed. That she had changed.
There wasn’t time. Until Prince Aedan was on Moraine soil, he remained in danger. Her duty was still to her clan, first, foremost, and forever. She gave Peter a look that she hoped said they would talk when she returned, and then she followed her captain.
Her only thought? Bringing her clan’s prince safely home.
Chapter 13
Peter watched as Regan walked away.
She didn’t look back. Not once.
He was more than a little stunned by her abrupt departure. It wasn’t like they’d become best friends or anything, but he definitely thought they had shared a connection. He’d felt it—when he was inside the gate, when they were talking in the carriage on the way to and from the Light Clan territory—and he’d been sure that she felt it too. That she’d let him touch her back and hold her hand. He didn’t think she was used to letting people touch her.
But maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe her feelings for Aedan were way more deep-seeded than he thoug
ht. Maybe his time inside the gate had scrambled his brain. Maybe his insights about people weren’t as spot on as he’d always thought, and he’d completely misjudged her.
There was a first time for everything.
“Come, Peter,” Winnie said, locking her arm through his. “Let’s go inside. The queen will want to talk to you.”
He and Winnie walked through the palace, back to the royal chamber where his day began.
If he stopped to think too hard about what all had happened since he got Cathair’s note that morning, he would be overwhelmed by it all. Just entering the veil had been a big enough deal. Add to that visiting a seelie clan, participating in a dangerous ritual, talking to a fae god, and finding—and apparently losing—the love of his life. (He was exaggerating, but only a little.)
By anyone’s standards that was a pretty full day.
When they entered the royal chamber, the queen was waiting for them, standing at the end of a long stone table, discussing something with a handful of attendants and advisors. She looked up as Peter and Winnie approached.
“Is this him?” she asked Winnie.
Winnie nodded. “This is Peter Duncan. The seer guard who passed the Tastail Tine.”
The queen started for him and he couldn’t help but draw back a little. Queen Eimear wasn’t quite as intimidating as Queen Onora, and he’d known her for half his life, but he didn’t think it hurt to be a little cautious.
She smiled at his hesitation.
As she approached, he forced himself to stand tall. He’d faced the flaming gate of the Tastail Tine. Surely he could face the Morainian queen.
“Peter Duncan,” she said, her voice gentle and almost soothing. Almost. “On behalf of the Moraine and the entire fae realm, I thank you for your service. We are in your debt.”
His cheeks burned with a blush.
“It was no big deal,” he said dismissively.
As a seer guard, he did not expect praise for his work. He considered the protection of the unseelie fae his natural duty.
But was it wrong to be proud of himself? He didn’t think so.
“Nonsense.” The queen waved her hands at him, then gestured to the thrones at the far end of the room. “Come. We will make our gratitude official.”
Peter followed as she led the way to the mossy platform and up to the largest of the three stone thrones.
“Kneel before me,” she instructed.
He hesitated only a second before complying.
The queen gestured to a guard who stood at the edge of the platform. Peter watch nervously as the guard handed a massive steel sword to the queen.
She raised the blade over Peter’s head.
“Peter Duncan, faithful member of the seer guard and protector of the unseelie sanctuary,” she said in a ceremonial tone, “on behalf of the Clan Moraine I bestow on you the Order of the Willow Fox.”
She tapped him once on each shoulder with the blade before handing it back to the guard. Then, to his total shock, she knelt on the ground in front of him.
“Give me your hand.”
When he did, she set an object in his outstretched palm. It was a necklace, a wooden medallion hanging from a thin leather cord. Carved into the wood was the image of a fox, the symbol of the Moraine.
“Thank you,” he said. His voice was tight with an emotion he couldn’t quite place.
“When you wear this,” the queen told him, “you will be free to pass into and out of the veil at will. The dark magic will not affect you, and the Royal Guard will let you pass.”
Peter slipped the necklace over his head.
“Thank you, your majesty,” he repeated. “I am honored. I will never take it off.”
And then, just to top off the day of strange and unusual things, then queen leaned forward and pulled him into a hug. He wasn’t sure whether he should hug her back, so he remained stiff and still until it was over.
“Thank you for your service,” the queen said. “Will you be needing an escort for your return to the sanctuary?”
“No, I’m good,” Peter replied.
The queen nodded and then returned to her advisors.
“You’re not leaving right now?” Winnie asked.
Peter shrugged. “No point hanging out around here. There’s nothing else I can do to help.”
There was nothing—and no one—for him to stick around for. He’d gotten them the information they needed to stop Ultan. Aedan had been found and Regan was off to save the day, and hopefully get her big reward from the younger prince himself. Peter was just a third wheel in the palace.
Besides, he was needed in the sanctuary.
“I think we both know there is a reason,” Winnie said. When he gave her a confused look, she added, “Regan.”
Peter blinked several times before he trusted himself to respond.
“I don’t know what you’re on about.”
“I saw the way you looked at her.” Winnie stepped closer so she could whisper. “You can’t tell me that you aren’t interested in her.”
Peter shrugged, like it was no big deal. Like she wasn’t spot on and he wasn’t still stinging from the realization that Regan’s infatuation with Aedan would keep Peter from ever having a chance.
“I know she’s gruff,” Winnie said, then winced at her own understatement, “but you should be patient with her. Give her some time. She’s not had the easiest life.”
Winnie didn’t need to tell Peter that. He could see that in the haunted depths of Regan’s stormy eyes. But she had chosen to heal that hurt with a crush on Aedan. Peter couldn’t exactly compete with a royal fae.
“Honestly, Win,” he told her, pasting his trademark grin in place. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
He was lucky she wasn’t fae or she’d be sensing his heartache.
Winnie scowled at him, but didn’t push the issue. Just stared at him like he was a complete fool. Maybe he was. But he was a fool with a job to do.
“I’d better get going.” He gestured a thumb over his shoulder. “The sanctuary awaits.”
She shook her head, but walked with him as he started back through the palace.
“You’re wrong,” she said. “But time has a way of working things out. I’m not worried.”
Peter didn’t know if he believed that, exactly, but he apparently had nothing but time when it came to Regan. He would wait for her. Probably longer than he was willing to admit that he would.
After giving Winnie a quick hug goodbye, Peter headed for the edge of the veil. It felt like a lifetime ago that he’d been walking the other way, running into Regan on his way to the palace.
He hoped that the next time they met it wasn’t with a hand around his throat.
Chapter 14
The sky above the sanctuary was the brightest blue that Regan had ever seen. As she bounded through the low grass that covered the meadow, she scanned the area for a shock of bright red hair.
She finally saw him sitting on a tree stump next to the rundown cabin in the sanctuary’s northwest corner.
As quickly as her ainmhi legs could carry her, she hopped across the meadow.
When he saw her coming, he smiled.
“Hey there, little bunny. Are you an ainmhii or an animal?”
He probably did not expect the rabbit to respond. So when Regan began the shift back into her fae form, his eyes grew amusingly wide.
“Ainmhi,” she said.
He just stared at her, jaw dropped and completely stunned.
That was precisely the reaction she was hoping for.
In the days since they parted, only three days but it felt like so much longer, she spent almost every free moment thinking of him. Picturing him. Imagining this moment.
“Regan?” he finally managed.
He seemed more shocked by her presence than from learning that her ainmhi was indeed the rabbit he had first guessed it to be.
She gave him a small smile. “Hello Peter.”
“Wh
y—?” He shook his head and started again. “What are you doing here?”
“Well,” she said, taking a step closer, “you left without saying goodbye.”
His smile fell. “So did you. How’s Aedan doing?”
She knew this would be an important part of their conversation. She knew this was why he had left without waiting for her to return. He thought she had gone off to save the love of her life, just when she was realizing that what she felt for Aedan was nothing but a likeness of love.
“Prince Aedan is doing as well as can be expected,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “He is not healing as quickly as the queen would like.”
“I don’t imagine she’ll be happy until he is good as new.”
“No,” Regan agreed, “I don’t believe she will.”
For several long seconds they just looked at each other. Regan could only imagine what he was thinking, but if she had to guess it would be about her…what had he called it? Oh yes, her crush.
“I wanted to tell you,” she began, “about my feelings for Prince Aedan.”
Peter’s mouth lifted up to one side. “I think we both know about your feelings for him.”
“No, we don’t.” She stepped closer. “You don’t.”
He lifted his brows in question.
“My feelings have changed, or perhaps my understanding of them has,” she told him. “They are no more than a guard should feel for the prince she serves.”
Peter didn’t move a muscle, but Regan could sense a shift in him.
“No more than that?”
She shook her head.
“What prompted this change?”
She moved another step closer. Her arm shook as she reached out and took his hand.
“I have recently developed some other feelings,” she said, barely able to keep her voice above a whisper, “that made me question the nature of what I once felt for the prince.”
Darkly Fae: The Moraine Cycle Page 20