The Namhaid could never get the chance to destroy the world.
“I won’t drop you, Eislyn,” he said with mirth in his dark eyes. “This isn’t the first time I’ve flown with someone in my arms.”
She stiffened. She didn’t want to think about Lir flying with his arms wrapped around someone else, even if it had been nothing. But had it been nothing? He’d never mentioned a paramour to her before, but that didn’t mean he’d never had one. He was a powerful emperor, after all. Extremely handsome. With a voice as smooth as velvet and a scent like spices and the sun.
She wet her lips.
Once their belongings were readied, and the crew had gathered in the palace entryway, Emperor Lir led the way out the doors. Eislyn gasped when the steady beams of the sun hit her face. Heat radiated through her, soothing her in a way she’d never once felt. Eislyn loved the snow of her homeland, but she’d never felt connected to it the way her sister did. Reyna’s bones were made of ice. Snow was threaded through her heart. Where dragons blew fire, Reyna breathed frost.
Eislyn had always loved that about her sister. That passionate love for her elemental home. But she’d never felt the same tug to the frozen lands. Of course, shelikedthe north. But it was not her soul.
So, the sun brought a smile onto her face. She shielded her eyes against the glow of it to gaze out at the city ahead. White stone buildings spread across the rocky hills, their orange roofs basking in the sun. The winding streets cut through the hubbub of the old part of town where high stone battlements rose above a rocky cliff that plunged down to the sea.
“Why is it so warm here?” Reyna asked as they drifted through the palace courtyard. “Tusail is as far north as the Ice Court.”
“Magic,” Lir said with a smile before opening his arms wide. “Come. It’s time for us to go.”
Eislyn swallowed hard. This was the part she dreaded the most, besides the whole conversation with a terrifying, powerful god, of course. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Eislyn stepped into Lir’s bare muscular chest and timidly wrapped her arms around his neck.
He pulled her against him and pushed off the ground at once, without a word of warning. A squeal shot from her throat, and she buried her face in his chest. The scent of him filled her head, and an intoxicating thrill rushed from her head to her toes. It distracted her from the vanishing ground for a moment.
Heart pounding, she slowly shifted her face so that her cheek pressed against his chest instead of her nose. The world blurred by them at an impossible speed, and her gut twisted over on itself.
“I hate this,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “I won’t drop you. Relax.”
His velvet voice reverberated against her cheek. It still did little to calm her nerves.
“How long will it take?” Eislyn asked as she watched the city vanish on the horizon over Emperor Lir’s impressive shoulder. His black wings beat heavily against the air, and her owl spun along beside them.
“A few days,” Lir murmured into her ear. Even with the incessant wind whipping around their soaring bodies, Eislyn could hear the luscious texture of his voice, like whipped cream. “We’ll need to stop to camp twice. The Empire of Fomor is bigger than most fae believe. Your maps are wrong.”
Eislyn blinked, surprised. “How much bigger?”
“Bigger than your wildest dreams,” he said with a chuckle.
A flush spread up her neck and into her cheeks. She almost smacked his arm out of instinct but caught herself just in time. If she let go, she’d tumble into the vast sky.
The day passed too slowly for Eislyn’s liking. She yearned for the ground. The wind stung her cheeks, and the fear of death pounded against her skull until her clenched teeth gave her a blinding headache. Night couldn’t come soon enough. When darkness finally fell, she blew out a heavy sigh of relief.
They touched down on a dirt road that wound through verdant meadows. The tall grass swayed toward a distant sea where the moonlight reflected across the still surface. From her guess, they’d flown far west, away from Tir Na Nog and the sea that separated her homeland from Fomor.
Lir gently lowered Eislyn so that her feet touched the dirt-packed ground. His arms stayed cinched around her hips as his great wings flared wide like twin shadows. She wet her lips as she gazed up into his strong, square face, her heart pounding. His fellow warriors landed all around them, but Lir’s dark eyes stayed locked on hers. A sudden flush shot through her chest. What was he doing?
And why didn’t she want him to stop?
“In the past, when I’ve carried others,” he murmured, “they’ve lost their balance when returning to the ground. I want to make sure you don’t fall over. It would be a shame if you knocked your head against a rock and died before we reached Inishfall.”
Anger rippled through her as she yanked away from him. “At least then I wouldn’t have to deal with you any longer.” She cast her gaze around. Grass sprang up like strands of hair off a scalp. “Besides, there aren’t any rocks.”
His lips tipped up. “My mistake.”
Eislyn was pretty certain that Lir never made any mistakes, not so long as he could help it. So, he was trying to threaten her again. She’d hoped they’d gotten past that, but it seemed he was back to his old tricks. With frustration burning in her veins, she watched the warriors set up camp for the night. Pallets were spread across the ground, a fire was lit, and two winged warriors vanished through the grass to hunt for food.
“Come sit,” Lir said, patting the ground beside him. Eislyn glared at him. “You can pretend you don’t like the fire, but I know you do.”
She narrowed her eyes. It was true. “I don’t like it as much as you think.”
