Oran turned to her. “He will retrieve us at first light.”
Fiernan nodded, assessing each of his words carefully. He didn’t speak the language of her people, but she’d been educated enough that she knew plenty of what he was saying, it just took a moment for her to gather all of the pieces. “The army and naval fleets will be arriving soon. We must take cover as quickly as possible.” She explained. “I have ordered them to travel straight through and have no mercy against any that stand in their way.”
Oran could have swept her up into his arms at that moment. He could have trailed kisses along the dark, freckled skin that covered her. She stared at him in the way she always had, withher chin raised and shoulders drawn. The image of strength. “You are magnificent.” He sighed.
The princess narrowed her eyes at him, seemingly struggling with a smile of her own. “You must control yourself until all of this is over. This is hardly a time to be thinking with what dangles between your legs.” She glanced down at it, a single brow lifting. “Though Idolook forward to seeing it.”
Oran’s cheeks heated in the blistering wind, cursing at himself. Here he was, a man well into his twenty-sixth year of life, blushing like a schoolyard child. He shook all nefarious thoughts from his head and headed towards the man waiting for them upon the knoll of a nearby hill.
He wore no hood, nor did he seem bothered by the weather. His black clothing was stark against the misted backdrop, his hands tucked into his pockets. When Oran smiled at the man, he smiled back.
“So,” Trio hummed with delight. “This is the beautiful Fiernan I have heard so much about?” He bowed to the princess and took her hand, placing a single kiss upon the ring on her middle finger that bore the Shidoshan crest.
“This is the shadow man?” Fiernan asked.
Oran nodded, ignoring the glare that Trio was now shooting in his direction. “Yes,” he nodded. “The Shadow Man.”
Darkness flared and swirled around Trio’s form, giving way to a swirling tunnel of black that made Fiernan smile. She’d known a Shadow Man once. It’d been years since he’d broken her heart, still she thought fondly of him—remembered his slumbering form whispering the name of the girl he loved most. She remembered the heartache that came with realizing she could not compete with the prince’s truest love. It’d hurt her severely. But Fiernan’s heart no longer ached for the prince from her youth. In fact, she’d given him a blessing on their final night together. One she hoped he would use wisely.
She looked at the man beside her, the man whose gentleness and strength had left a gaping wound in his absence. That was what love was, she supposed, and it was something that no god, nor king could control. It was not something that could be won in competition. It justwas.
Fiernan placed her hand into Oran’s and stepped into the shadows—her men and the Shadow Man following close behind.
“I can only allow you to travel a certain amount of distance,” Trio explained. “But I will be back at first light to retrieve you again, once we’ve prepared your accommodations.”
Fiernan’s eyes widened as they stepped into a large room. It was not like being in a palace, by any means. It was humble and cozy, lit by candles and firelight. Trio escorted her men out of the room and into the hall to escort them to their own rooms, leaving her and Oran to bask in the silence and warmth that the room offered.
Oran’s vibrant blue eyes lingered over her lips, nervously tugging a small thread between two of his fingers. “Y-you should dress in something dry. There is a washroom—” He turned, prepared to show her exactly where the amenities were located, but Fiernan was already lunging towards him, wrapping her arms around him. She had to press up onto the tips of her toes to kiss him, but it came with such ease that it felt like second nature.
It was, she supposed, within her nature. Tolove. Even if she’d never known it for herself until this man came into her life,lovehad been a part of her. It’d been woven into her bloodstream, sewn into the fabric of her being before she’d even been born.
And so, as her army and her naval fleets crashed through the waves of the Hagborn Sea en route for Gaellagh, the Goddess of Love…
Fell in love.
Chapter 33
The children ran as quickly as they could through the palace doors, Raina and Thorn not far behind them. Aziel saw both the terror and relief in their faces as they broke free from their prison. Raven was the last of the children to leave, silver still gleaming in his eyes as he stepped over the threshold. The altar and the God Stone that Everand had erected in the center of the foyer was cracked clean down the center. His offerings were already being scooped up and thrown into a sack with the rest of the rubbish, his sigil erased from every corner of Thorn’s palace.
When Nymiria told Aziel that she believed Raven to be the next God of Purity, he hadn’t quite believed her. He thought Raven to be far too young and too inexperienced to know how to handle his godly powers. But Nymiria was keen on proving him wrong, even in her absence.
He’d done all he could to remain calm, but his patience was a frayed thread at this point. The blood and viscera that coated the stairs and upper hall of Thorn’s palace was to show for that.The dismembered corpses were all gone now, but before he’d dragged their bodies into the earth with those hungry roots of his, he’d enjoyed how each of those Mimics looked strewn all over the floor.
Aziel’s gloved hand lifted a smoking roll of tobacco to his lips. He filled his lungs with it, let it do its work to soothe the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He turned towards the dungeon, patting one of Thorn’s men on the back as they lifted the altar and began carrying it towards the door.
His stride was slow and languid—graceful—as he glided down the staircase. He flicked the roll of tobacco to some unseen location, eyes homing in on the creature that was unabashedly lounging on one of the cots within its cell. Aziel reached for the dagger at his side, pulling it out and twirling it around in his fingers.
He’d found it amongst a trunk full of things that’d been confiscated from around the palace. This dagger, in particular, was one he would not mistake for another. He’d had it personally made—engravedwith a saying he’d heard from Teigh so long ago.
“Life in her final form. Death will claim all.”
He ran Nymiria’s dagger along the bars of the cells, watching as the creature startled from its sleep. Red eyes blinked in the low light, finally settling on Aziel as he made his slow approach. “You intend to kill me now?” The Mimic’s voice was a terrible sound, deep and grumbly, like there were rocks in his vocal chords. Aziel tilted his head to one side, his brow arched. With each silent step forward, the creature’s unrest became more noticeable. Even though the creature laughed in such a prideful way, Aziel could still smell the fear that radiated from him. “Say something!” The beast snarled.
He didn’t. Aziel prowled forward, slowly unlocking the cell and swinging the door open. The Mimic was all but plasteringhimself to the far wall, arms spread out and grappling at the stone as if he could find a way out.
“I’ll fight you!” The Mimic snapped, kicking over one of the wooden tables with enough force to snap the legs. He quickly picked up the broken piece of wood, wielding it like a weapon. Still, Aziel said nothing.
The Mimic lunged forward with the broken table leg, intent to stab. And stab, he did. The jagged edge punctured through Aziel’s side, but the roots on his chest worked quickly. He could feel them curling around the wound, sending waves of soothing heat to the wound to lessen the pain. The Mimic, now wide-eyed and stammering, watched as Aziel moved closer.
