“I miss home.”
He nodded. “I do, too.”
“You should see the night skies there, Lorcan. There are thousands of stars. Every single one is as bright as the sun, or so it feels when they are all out poking holes in the dark.” She sighed and pulled a deep breath into her lungs. “And the scent of winter. It is like nothing else I have ever smelled. It is crisp and bright and so, so clear. I want to jump into a pile of snow and bury myself deep within it. I want to feel the cold again.”
“You will,” he said softly.
“Will I?” She looked to him then with those piercing silver eyes. He felt her pain in the very depths of his soul. “Why can I lie, Lorcan? I am an ice fae, am I not? Tell me how I can feel the way I do and not be one with the ice? It is in my bones.”
“I have never met an ice fae who ismoreof an ice fae than you are. You’re right. It’s in your bones and in your heart. If a fae could breathe ice, then I am certain you would be the one to do it.”
She grinned. “Like dragons breathe fire?”
His heart lightened at her sudden smile. “The most ferocious of dragons.”
She sighed happily and dropped her head onto his shoulder. “I would like to meet a dragon one day.”
“It would bite your head off.”
“I’d like to see it try.”
“Reyna, I want you to cut out my mark.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder, her gaze suddenly sharp. “Did you just say what I think you said?”
“Yes, but only if you’re still willing to do it.”
“It would be an honor for me to cut that damn magic out of your arm.” She reached up and cupped his cheek. “You’re certain about this? That magic has been inside of you for a very long time, controlling you. It doesn’t want to leave you either. It will try to fight this.” She pressed her lips together. “This will hurt you, Lorcan. I imagine quite a lot.”
“Nollaig will have brought some spirits with her,” he replied. “She always does.”
“I’m not certain how much spirits will help in this instance.”
“I know what I’m getting myself into, Reyna.” He leaned forward and curled his fingers against the rough stone beneath them, the memories pressing in tight around him. Everything he had been forced to do, and everything he had been forced not to do. His father had controlled him for so long. It was time to break free.
Already, the mark had begun to pulse, anticipating the intrusion.
Reyna had already jumped to her feet. She strode toward the fire with a fierce determination in the set of her spine. “Nollaig. I’m going to carve that damn mark out of Lorcan’s shoulder. You in?”
“You bet I am.” Nollaig pushed up from the ground, leaving her half-eaten potato behind. She went straight to her stash of spirits without being asked, pouring a large shot into a tin mug she’d brought along. She shoved it into Lorcan’s hands. “Drink that up, Your Highness. You’re going to need it.”
Lorcan tipped it into his throat in one fluid motion. It burned as it went down. He slammed the tin mug on the ground and growled, “Another.”
Nollaig poured without comment, and then handed him the mug again.
“How much do you think this is going to hurt?” he asked her after he’d taken the second shot.
“I think it’s going to feel like your eyeballs are being ripped out of your head.” A pause. “So, that would be a lot.”
Lorcan scowled. “You know you have the ability to lie, Nollaig.”
“Do you want me to lie?”
“Not really.”
“Good.” Nollaig settled down in front of him with a third and final shot. For now, at least. “Listen. I don’t know how this is going to go. No one else with marks has ever tried this before, and there’s a reason I never offered to do it myself.”
“Because you want him to continue to believe you’re his loyal advisor.” Lorcan had quickly figured out that Nollaig was anything but, though he hadn’t a clue what her true purpose was.
