Elena’s hazel eyes shot up. “I want to protect them. I just wish it were my mom on the throne. Wish I’d had more time with her…”
“It wasn’t much,” Reese agreed, “but it was quality. I watched your mother with you. I’ve never seen—or felt—that kind of love and devotion. It was beautiful, and if I could play back what I’d witnessed through my ability so that you could experience it too, I would. For now, you’ll have to take my word for it and know that there was no other choice for her when it came to saving your life. She wouldn’t have changed a thing. Maybe you were always meant to be the one leading New Kingdom.”
A tear slid down Elena’s cheek and she quickly wiped it away. “If that’s true, I’d rather not have to go to battle to get it back. People will die, Reese.”
“People will die no matter what. Portia doesn’t negotiate. She won’t see reason. The longer she’s in power, the more people she harms and forces to do things against their will. Let’s get there before she does irreparable damage.”
A knock sounded at the door and a petite—by Fae standards—redheaded woman with short hair entered the room, smiling at Elena.
Elena quickly walked over and gave the woman a hug, turning with her arm around her. “Reese, this is my Aunt Deirdre.”
Reese stepped forward and shook Deirdre’s hand. “Elena told me you were a huge help the last time she was here, and to not make you angry because, despite appearances, you were a fierce warrior.”
Deirdre grinned. “I am good with a machete.”
A machete. Reese looked to Elena.
“Long story.” Elena waved her off.
Deirdre gestured toward the door. “Everyone is in the main hall. We should join them. Illa and her father left for New Kingdom hours ago, and Camille has begun taking over soldiers in shifts, hiding them until the time is right. The ceremony begins any moment.”
Reese’s chest rose on a shaky breath. Keen could be marrying Illa right now—and there was nothing Reese could do to stop it.
She bit her lip and turned as the others filed out of the room. She allowed a choking sound to escape her throat when she thought she was alone.
But warm arms wrapped around her, curly, dark hair tickling her cheek.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Sorry.”
Elena stepped back. “You don’t need to apologize for caring about him. I’d change everything if I could. My mother…you and Keen. As powerful as Fae believe me to be, I can’t fix this.”
Reese glanced at the ouroboros amulet she wore around her neck. A tear streaked down her cheek and she wiped it away. “No, but we can do what’s right. I never fit in my parents’ world. I never wanted to be the debutante, intent on climbing the social ladder. I hated the phoniness. But in this world…in some twisted way, I fit. With you and Derek.”
“Well, I hate to burst your bubble about Tirnan, but you’ll still get the social climbing. Except here it’s more of a battle for who’s most magical. I mean, crap, they mate for bloodlines.”
Reese nodded. “True, but I don’t believe they’re right. Look how powerful you are, and you’re not full Fae. They need to change their thinking.”
Elena laughed. “You’re preaching to the choir. Believe me, I’m working on them. But an ancient people don’t change views nimbly. Just look at this place.” They both glanced at the wooden furniture and tapestries from another century. “It’s stuck in sixteenth-century Scottish Highlander land. This is some Outlander shit right here.” She grinned, and Reese gave her a wobbly one too. “Seriously, though, they can’t keep things the same without the risk of losing it all to someone like Portia. They need our help.” She bumped Reese in the arm. “And we need you.”
Reese had never felt needed. Wanted by frisky fraternity guys? Sure. Used as a shopping buddy by her mother? That too. But truly valued? Never. “I’m here for you. For as long as you need me.”
A sad look crossed Elena’s face. “It’ll be okay—with Keen. I don’t know how, but things will work out.”
Reese tried to smile, but she was pretty sure it was a fat fail. “We should get going. More important things to worry about and all that. Give me a second, though? I’ll be right behind you.”
Elena gave her a look that said she wasn’t fooled, but quietly left the room.
Reese walked toward the window overlooking the berm, filled with soldiers organizing in groups. Some of the soldiers protected the gates. They’d remain behind and guard the castle while everyone was away. The others waited their turn to portal to New Kingdom.
In Tirnan she was Halven, needed by her friends, and by the stubborn-ass Fae, though they’d never admit it.
Even so, for this moment—while the first guy she’d truly loved committed himself to another—she gave in to a broken heart.
31
The room they’d put Keen in had belonged to Beortric, Theda’s brother, a New Kingdom prince before he’d married and become a Sunlander in order to pursue science. Everyone agreed science served a purpose, even among immortal Fae, but it was…unpopular. Only the weak chose that path. Battle mastery and magical pursuits were the norm among his kind. It was unheard of for a noble Fae with magic and strength to practice science—until Beortric had given up everything for his passion.
For the first time in his life, Keen understood why a man would do such a thing. Marrying Illa was for the best, but Keen’s heart beat heavy and unsettled inside his chest.
He had never been one to dwell on something he couldn’t control. The angels had promised millennia ago that they would watch over their children. Belief in the fates was at the root of their culture.
Fae fought to protect what was most precious to them—the land, their magical gifts. But that was the problem. They’d been sired by angels with different abilities—New Kingdom with their elemental abilities and Old Kingdom with their mental powers. Those forefathers had held grudges against each other, and somehow the grudges transferred to their children. This notion Elena had of bringing all of Tirnan together would never work, and now she’d convinced Reese to risk her life based on the idea. It infuriated Keen to no end.
The fates of Fae were entwined and tangled in a way no Halven could undo.
Another knock sounded at the door. There had been several over the last hour, and still Keen ignored it.
This time the guard used a key and entered. Keen lifted his eyebrow at the man’s blatant disregard for authority. “My apologies, sir. But they are waiting.” The guard shifted nervously. “The queen refuses to wait any longer.”
Keen had never shirked his duty. Not once. It was why he’d risen among his fellow soldiers, despite being banished from Old Kingdom years ago. He was a ruthless warrior who always followed orders—unless he was the one giving them.
Somehow, this duty to marry Illa weighed on him like the barrels of gold New Kingdom mined and sold to humans. He couldn’t bring himself to walk down the stairs. To do so felt as though he were betraying Reese, his tiny Halven.
His Halven. She was his. He’d made it so when he claimed her in the bedroom of a tavern. And he’d do it again.
Keen was calm under pressure, faithful to his people. Never had he experienced the sheer frustration Reese brought out in him. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and lock her away half the time, and kiss her insolent mouth the rest. In short, she drove him insane. The thought of not having her in his life, not knowing if she was okay and where she was… It was eating him alive.
While most men cowered before Keen, Reese—small and proud—had stood her ground from the beginning. She was strong, his little one, and her heart was beautiful. Her strength weakened him in a good way—allowed him to be quiet while the rest of the world fought. How would he live without her?
He’d do anything to protect Reese, which meant he’d agreed to marry Illa, because to disobey Portia put all of them at risk. He’d risk his own life, but not Reese’s.
He wanted her with him—always. But if he married
Illa, he could never be with Reese again. This was what had him pacing Beortric’s old room, unable to walk out the door to face his future.
Keen scrubbed a hand down his face and glanced at the ceiling. Then he did something he’d never done in his life. Not since he’d been old enough to realize he was an orphan and his family had been murdered. Not after he’d grown and learned the truth of his noble blood, and how his right to the throne had been torn from him.
He prayed. For her.
Keen spun on his heel and stormed out the door in front of the guard who was still waiting. His heart was cold and shredding inside. There would be nothing left of it after what he was about to do.
Tirnan didn’t build houses of worship the way the Earth realm did. There was no need. Tirnan was a part of the heavens—created for the children of angels. Royalty wed in their castles, and the rest wed in their homes surrounded by loved ones.
Keen walked in an escort of his guards, his legs suddenly leaden with what felt like the weight of the ocean that surrounded Tirnan. But he was good at hiding his feelings, showing strength in the line of duty.
They approached the entrance to the salon where the wedding was to take place. Radnor stood outside the room, his expression emotionless, though Keen suspected more lay beneath. Next to Radnor stood Portia—and about fifty of Keen’s men.
He led the men, but they didn’t answer to him. Not anymore. Keen was the master of the guard, but these men had sworn fealty to Portia. The power Portia bestowed upon Keen was for show. And they all knew it.
Portia’s eyes flared as Keen stopped in front of her. “How dare you make me wait? Do you think this a joke?”
“My apologies. It isn’t every day a man commits himself for life to another.”
“Don’t be foolishly sentimental. This is a political marriage that will bring you power. Or have you forgotten?”
“Power…” He let the word roll over his tongue. Funny—Keen felt powerless. All because he loved a Halven and was desperate to protect her.
“Yes, power, you ungrateful beast. Or do you plan to betray me? For I shall unleash the heavens upon you, should you try.”
It was a curious threat, given Portia’s recent actions. Murdering his people. Threatening the innocent. She honestly believed she had the ear of the angels?
No one had seen their forefathers in thousands of years, but none doubted the angels’ eyes on them.
“I am here. Shall we proceed?” he said without answering her question directly.
Portia’s eyes narrowed. But she must have decided his words were good enough, because she spun in her deep purple gown, the likes of which Keen hadn’t seen worn by any royal, and swept into the salon. She had made good use of the royal seamstresses, shouting her power and wealth to the world by whatever means necessary.
Keen proceeded to follow her, until Radnor held up a hand.
“A moment.” Radnor’s voice was firm. He waited for Portia to continue on before he said, “The queen is anxious for this union. But are you?”
“I do what I must to protect my people.”
Radnor seemed to take him in. “Which people? Fae? Or is there a beautiful Halven you consider your own?”
The older man had surprised him, but Keen kept his expression blank. “I am protecting the innocent.”
“I see. You must mean all the innocent.”
Keen nodded.
“I do not disapprove. I simply wish to confirm you will not harm one of my daughters in your attempt to protect the other. Illa is my Fae-born child, but I consider Reese no less mine. I believe your—sentiments—fall with my Halven child. You’ve been placed in quite the predicament. But hear me now—should you harm either of my daughters, I will destroy you.” Radnor slapped him on the back. “Best wishes.”
With that, he walked inside the salon after Portia.
Keen took a moment to compose himself. He didn’t fear Radnor. If Keen harmed Illa or Reese, he’d welcome death. But Reese’s father was correct. Keen felt nothing but brotherly affection for Illa. His feelings for Reese were another thing entirely. She had him tied up in knots and desperate for her.
Instead of attempting to figure out how he’d get through this, he simply moved his legs forward in long strides and didn’t think. He was a warrior. He acted.
To protect the greater good—no matter the cost.
32
Camille portaled them to New Kingdom palace, the end of the portal emptying into a small room off to the side of the ceremony. Maybe small was misleading. It only appeared small—because of the hundreds of soldiers Camille had brought over previously, who were all lined up and waiting.
Reese’s group climbed to their feet and she caught sight of half a dozen guards slumped to the side.
“Dead?” she whispered to Elena, her nerves picking up.
This was real. This was happening.
Elena shook her head. “Unconscious. One of our magic wielders knocked them out first thing. Should last a few more minutes. Enough time for us to squeeze inside the salon where the ceremony took place. There’s a reception going on in there now. That’s where we’ll find Portia.”
Reese drew in a breath and nodded briskly. They had a job to do. Nothing more. She wouldn’t think about the marriage that had just taken place.
Her stomach dipped and she pressed her arm to it, holding back the pain.
Everyone in the room touched the shoulder of the man or woman beside them, wasting no time. Then Derek Blended the army, making them invisible to the outside eye. More of their soldiers hid behind the palace walls, prepared to fight.
They slipped single file through a side door, careful to remain along the walls. Most of the guests stood in the center of the room on either side of an aisle. The antechamber where the portal had tossed them was large, but this room could hold a small airplane with space to spare. And it looked nothing like a church.
Very little furniture was inside the room, and the floors were bare except for a massive rug underfoot. Instead of a pulpit, a throne stood at the head, where Portia was regally seated. There were no religious symbols that Reese could see, only a twenty-foot statue of an insanely handsome angel and a child at his knee behind Portia.
The figure was made of marble, the strong lines of the angel’s face more beautiful than any masterpiece. Broad shoulders, arms bulging with muscles, his hand gently resting on the child’s head. He had full lips made for sin, lightly hollowed cheeks, and strong cheekbones that swept up into a broad, refined forehead as he gazed down at those in the room.
If that statue was an accurate representation of the angels, no wonder Fae were so beautiful.
Reese glanced back at Portia, still feeling the weight of the angel’s stare, though it was nothing but marble. Even the pretty child at the angel’s feet felt real. But as Reese took in Portia’s expression and emotions, all thoughts of the statue faded. Because Portia was pissed.
What had happened?
Portia wore a deep purple gown, her eyes inflamed—which seemed odd, since she’d gotten what she wanted. She held the power in New Kingdom, and if she had her way, she’d soon hold the power in Old Kingdom too, now that Illa and Keen were married.
Reese swallowed. There was nothing she could do about the marriage. It was done. But she could prevent Portia from taking control over anyone else’s lives.
The soldiers around her carefully drew arms while maintaining contact with one another. Silently, invisibly—thanks to Derek’s ability to Blend them—they prepared for battle. And that was when Reese caught sight of her sister across the room next to Hakon. Illa held her head high, and she was utterly beautiful in a pale gold gown with a beaded train and thin veil.
Reese cared about Illa—was coming to love the sister she’d never known—but in this moment she wanted to bum-rush the woman who’d married Keen.
Then Reese realized Keen was nowhere in sight.
Illa was alone.
And the queen was still pis
sed.
Reese glanced questioningly at Elena, who shook her head, her brow furrowed in confusion.
Portia slammed her fist on the armrest of the throne. “Enough! Seize him!”
Just then, people stirred and all heads turned toward the entrance of the chamber.
“No need.” Keen sauntered inside, looking handsomer than any man should. He wore emerald court dress the precise color of his eyes.
Keen had only ever worn his soldier’s uniform—and he already looked good enough to eat in that. In the courtly fitted pants and a tunic with shimmery embroidery at the wrists, the top stretching the breadth of his shoulders—he was tall, powerful, and so, so beautiful. Reese wondered for a split second why she’d ever thought he would want to be with someone so plain, because in this moment, Keen glimmered like the angels from whom he was descended.
And then her spine straightened. No man was better than she was—equal, certainly, but Reese was as good as the next person, and she deserved a guy who loved her wholly.
Keen was looking straight ahead at Illa, but the moment he passed Reese’s large group, his perpetual insolent smile dropped a fraction. No one else seemed to notice, but Reese had.
He glanced around and held on the area where Derek stood with Elena and their soldiers, scanning briefly and discreetly until his gaze landed on Reese. That was when a frown pulled down his handsome mouth.
How did he know?
There were hundreds in the room. He could listen in on any number of thoughts, but not Reese’s. Yet somehow, she’d swear he sensed her.
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