“So be it,” Sloane finally said with a growl, throwing up his hands. “But if this comes back to bite us in the arse, then it’s on your head. Your mother will be pleased. She’s always wanted you to do something spineless like this.”
The High King let out another growl and stomped away. Tension pounded on the silent courtyard like a chorus of angry drums. Vreis was the one to finally break through the quiet with a long, low whistle.
“Well then. I’m glad we all still have our heads.”
“I’ve muzzled myself for far too long.” Thane glanced over his shoulder and grimaced. “I love my father. But I am tired of my every action being dictated by war.”
* * *
They travelled several days south on the Crown’s Road, stopping each night to camp on the great grass fields of the air fae lands, before turning onto Westway Road. Soon, they were only a two day ride from Comharra, having left the cart behind with the bulk of the guards. Thane, Lorcan, and Vreis had decided to ride ahead and announce their arrival—and the impending feast—to the village. Lorcan could not wait to see his old friends, but his stomach still twisted into knots of dread.
Once they’d set up camp for the night, the three of them sat around a roaring fire, tucking into spit-roasted rabbit, and drinking the mead they’d packed for the journey. The skies were clear this night, and a thousand luminous stars lit up the darkness. A soft spring breeze rustled through the stalks, whispering beneath the crackle of the fire.
“You never told me what happened that day,” Thane said, sinking his teeth into the rabbit.
Lorcan glanced up from the fire to find Thane watching him intently. An uneasy tingle went down his spine. Had Thane guessed that something more had happened that day? Lorcan thought he had been careful, but had he let his mask slip too much these past few years? Perhaps he had grown too comfortable in his role as one of Thane’s closest guards.
“The day I met you?” Lorcan asked, stalling for time. He needed a lie. One that made sense.
“What?” Thane furrowed his brows. “No, the night your village was attacked. You were there, weren’t you? Did you see what happened?”
Oh. Lorcan grimace and stared down at the dancing flames. His eyes burned; his throat tightened. The memories were as hot as the fire before him, burning through him until there was nothing left of his heart but ash.
Finally, he dragged his eyes to Thane’s face. The prince’s expression had softened, and concern lined his golden eyes.
“I didn’t see what happened,” Lorcan said softly. “I was in the fields, gathering wheat. I lost track of the time, and darkness fell. When I returned—”
He ground his teeth and glanced away.
“I’m sorry,” Thane said softly.
A truth, Lorcan knew. Thane could not lie. The prince was sorry for what had happened, even if it had not been his fault. Not even Lorcan’s own father had ever shown that much care about Comharra. Instead, he’d threatened to slaughter them all.
“It must have been a terrible shock,” Vreis said quietly. “To return to your village like that, having no idea what had happened to it.”
Lorcan glanced at the warrior and then at the prince. Their eyes were full of compassion and concern. He’d never told a soul about the Fomorians. He’d never even wanted to. Recalling it would be like reliving the night itself. But the memories curled around him like too-tight armor, threatening to squeeze all the air from his lungs. The pain and rage he’d felt that night had followed him for so long. He’d clung to it, letting it slither through his veins like poison.
There was only one way to get it out.
Suddenly, he looked up. “I know who destroyed my village. I know because I saw them. They came like nightmares on black wings. It was the Fomorians.”
And then he told them everything. Everything but the one thing he could never say.
* * *
“Ican’t believe the Wild Hunt isn’t a fairytale.” Thane leaned back on his horse, flicking the reins as they trotted down the road.
“I can’t believe I’ve been fighting beside a shadow fae all this time,” Vreis countered.
Thane tossed an apple to Lorcan and smiled. “Let’s not wind him up too much, eh? His mother was an air fae. He’s no more a shadow fae than you are—”
“A fire fae?” Vreis asked.
“No.” Thane grinned. “No more than you are ever going to get a female in your bed.”
The two of them guffawed, and Lorcan could not help but join in. He’d been terrified when he’d told them who he was. Well, partly who he was. As they’d sat around the fire, the three of them, a team as they had been for years, Lorcan had told them that his father had been a shadow fae. He’d worried they might condemn him. Thane’s mother had exiled the Shadow Court, after all.
But the both of them had merely gave him fleeting incredulous smiles, and then carried on as if nothing had changed.
