CHAPTER 11
Wolfe
Ijumped in front of Cillian and Niamh, brandishing my sword in front of the beast. The edge of the blade came close to one of the lithaguar necks, and it jumped back, the left head hissing while the middle one straightened its neck and reared back.
I raised my blade, anticipating its attack before it happened. I bent a knee so I was kneeling, then twisted my blade up and felt resistance, the blade cutting into the bird’s thin neck. Blood spattered over my head, fat red droplets staining the grass and dirt.
“I’m going to be sick,” Niamh said behind me, gagging as the bird’s head fell to the ground.
“It’s okay,” I heard Cillian say. “I’ll stand in front of you so you don’t have to see anything.”
The middle head lay on the ground, staring with its unblinking black eyes as the creature shrieked and leapt back, blood spurting from the severed neck in the middle, the other two heads squawking nonstop. I jumped to my feet and stalked toward the bird, swordclutched tight as the royal guard streamed into the gardens, swords drawn, surrounding the beast.
“Get the prince,” Harriet yelled, charging toward the lithaguar.
Took them long enough.
I whirled around and sheathed my bloody sword, stalking toward Cillian and Niamh. Niamh stared with an open mouth while Cillian stood there, crossing his arms and looking annoyed with the entire situation.
He pointed at his green vest with brass buttons, which matched Niamh’s dress. “You got blood spatter on me.”
“Sorry I just saved your ass.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the fighting, which was short-lived.
The lithaguar lifted into the air with a final ear-splitting shriek and flapped its wings, rising into the sky until it disappeared through the barrier protecting our city. The guards’ shoulders all drooped in relief.
I waved at Harriet to signal that I could take it from here, and we watched as the guards filed past us, their armor clinking as they walked through the archway and out of the garden.
Once they were gone, Niamh whirled. “We need to talk.” She jabbed Cillian in the chest, her finger pressing next to the spot of blood. “No more excuses. No more waiting. No more ‘slowly’ revealing information. I want to hear everything you have to say. Now.”
Cillian cleared his throat. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait? You’re looking a little pale.” He put a hand on her arm. “And you’re trembling. Maybe we could do this later over tea and biscuits?—”
“The magic is weakening.” I cut my brother off, staring at Niamh. “The castle chose Cillian as its high prince five years ago but never chose a queen. Cillian has tried to find his own, but the castle hasn’t... accepted them.”
Niamh stilled at that, gaze bouncing between my brother and me. “What does that mean?”
“You asked about the key tattooed on his skin.” I pointed toCillian’s neck, where his key was tattooed. “Once the key appears, it means the castle has accepted you.”
She wrinkled her nose. “And what happens if the key doesn’t appear?”
Cillian shot me a warning look, but I was sick of the secrecy, sick of keeping things from Niamh that she needed to know. She wasn’t a damn child. She was a grown woman, and Cillian needed to stop treating her like she was a frail piece of glass that might shatter if he revealed too much.
“Then you disappear,” I said firmly.
She swallowed thickly. “That sounds ominous.”
“You don’t die, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Cillian said. “You just disappear from here.” He put his hands in front of him. “And reappear out there.” He shifted his hands.
Niamh squeezed her eyes shut, jaw locking. “I knew it was too good to be true. I knew there was no way I just found a magical castle where I get to be queen and live happily ever after.” I snorted, and her gaze, full of ire, snapped to me. “Is something about that funny?” she asked.
“Do not answer that,” Cillian murmured in my ear.
My hands curled into fists as I thought about my own life, the turns it had taken, the brother I would never get back. I once thought happily ever after existed too. Maybe not in those exact words, but I’d been in some bubble, thinking nothing bad would ever happen to those I loved. It had been naïve, and Niamh was being naïve as well, reminding me far too much of my past self, a past self I hated now for how unprepared he’d been. “Happily ever after doesn’t exist. The sooner you realize that, the less disappointed you’ll be when things don’t work out the way you’d hoped. The best you can do for yourself is prepare. Not cower.”
She let out a frustrated yell and threw up her hands. “You’re impossible. This is impossible. Why did I come here? Why did you rip me from my tower for a place that might not even want me?”
She turned her back to us, shoulders shaking. As Cillian reached out to put a hesitant hand on her shoulder, a giggle burst from her. Hesnatched his hand back, shooting me a questioning look, and I just shrugged as Niamh doubled over in laughter.
“I told you not to answer,” Cillian said out of the side of his mouth.
