“That’s part of it, but I’m more concerned about what kind of magic that is.” She pointed at the mark. The black lines writhed through Lorcan’s skin, twisting like a snake. “It might try to kill you.”
“Itwilltry to kill me,” he answered in a low growl. “But I’m stronger than my father thinks, and I am done being forced to do whatever he commands. His power over me is over, Nollaig.”
She nodded. “There is also the realm to consider. The mark binds you to your father and makes you his legitimized heir. The realm needs you. Right now, there’s a mad king sacrificing thousands of warriors because of dark visions from a dark god. They need a ruler they can depend upon. A ruler like you.”
“If the realm needs me to remain their prince, then that I can do.” He nodded. Staying at the Shadow Court was not on his agenda, but he would do what he could for the people of the realm. He’d spent years living in another kingdom while still remaining their prince. He could do so again, helping them from afar, doing his best to protect them until he could find another shadow fae who would make a good king.
Nollaig gave a nod, and then shifted to the side to make room for Reyna.
“You should remove your tunic,” Reyna said at once.
He arched a brow. “Now is not the time for that, Shieldmaiden.”
She blushed furiously. “Stop it. I don’t meanthat. At least not right now.” She cleared her throat. “You’re going to bleed, and we don’t want to get it on your tunic. Don’t forget what the fae of Oxgrove said about blood magic.”
With a nod, he lifted the tunic over his head and sat still while she poked and prodded at the mark. After a few moments, she grabbed her ice dagger from where she’d balanced it on top of her knee.
“Wait a moment,” he said quickly. “You need to give me a warning.”
“All right. Here is your warning. I am about to stick my dagger into your arm.”
“You seem far too eager to do this.”
“I like to stab things.” She grinned. “Also, you need to relax. Nollaig, I think he needs another drink.”
“You can count on me, Shieldmaiden.” Nollaig vanished for a moment and came back with another full mug. This time, the contents looked suspiciously pink.
“That isn’t what you gave me earlier,” he said, pointing out the obvious.
“This is stronger.”
“How much stronger?”
“Why don’t you drink it and see?”
He sighed and glanced at Reyna. “I’m starting to have second thoughts. Perhaps I’ll wait until I can find someone who isn’t so gleeful about cutting me open.”
“Drink the pink stuff,” Reyna ordered.
Lorcan grabbed the drink and swirled the vibrant liquid in the mug. He wrinkled his nose. It looked like something that might be found on the top of a lady’s hat at court. Fluffy, pink, and entirely far too scented sweet.
“Drink up, lover boy,” Reyna said with a grin that vanished an instant later. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”
“You heard the lass. Drink up…lover boy.” Nollaig snickered beneath her hood.
Lorcan rolled his eyes but drank it all the same. It was as terrible as it looked. All sickly-sweet syrup and something that tasted suspiciously like potato.
“What was that?” he asked after he’d finally downed the whole thing.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Nollaig replied.
Tarrah edged closer from where she’d been watching from a distance. “Would you like me to offer a prayer up to the gods?”
“No,” all three shouted in unison.
“It would be a prayer to the Dagda,” she said, cheeks turning pink. “Not to the god who lies.”
“Well then,” Reyna whispered beneath her breath before lifting her eyes to meet his. “Lorcan, it’s up to you.”
