“Did he do this to you? Was he a part of this?” He cups my chin and turns my face back toward him so he can look directly into my eyes. “Don’t lie. I can always tell when you do.”
So I hold his gaze head on, willing him to see the truth. “He wasn’t involved. I only saw him when you did.”
He studies me for a long moment before finally nodding and letting go. Then he stands and holds out a hand.
“Can you walk now?” he asks. “Because I will carry you to the ends of the earth if you need me to.”
I swallow hard, heat crawling up my neck. Despite the icy power he wields, his gaze feels scorching, like it’s burning right through me and making my heart tumble wildly inside my chest. I have the sudden urge to press up onto my toes and wrap my hand around his throat, like I’ve imagined doing so many times.
To feel his skin beneath my palm. To feel the steady thud of his heartbeat. To feel the faint burn of his ice.
Overhead, a gull’s cry cuts through the night air.
Those thoughts shatter instantly.Stars, what am I thinking?I blink and step back until the stone wall brushes against me.Taliesin catches a strand of my windblown hair and tucks it behind my ear. His knuckles graze my skin. Then his finger trails slowly down the side of my face, along the curve of my jaw, until it reaches my mouth.
My lips part. My breath hitches.
His gaze turns deadly dark. “You didn’t answer my question.”
My heart stumbles. “What?”
“I said I would carry you to the fucking ends of the earth, Angharad,” he murmurs. “I’m yours to command. Just say the word.”
“I…” I press my palms against my legs, my pulse fluttering wildly. That’s the first time I can recall him saying my name, and the way it sounds rolling off his tongue….
“I can walk. Thank you.” I clear my throat. “But I’m fine.”
He nods, and his hand drops away. The desperate urge to catch it and put it back nearly overwhelms me. For a brief, startling moment, I’m certain I’ll do it. I’ll guide his hand back to my mouth. He’ll slip it between my lips, so I can taste him.
Heat floods through me at the thought.
Oh, stars.
I shouldn’t be thinking of him like this.
“We should go,” I whisper. It’s all I can manage to get out.
We find the way hidden in the tower’s dungeon, a single torch waiting in its iron sconce. They left one behind in case we ran into trouble and were forced to come back this way. Our footsteps echo through the low-ceilinged tunnel, bouncing into darkness for what sounds like miles. Water drips somewhere ahead in a slow, maddening rhythm, and every so often my shoulder brushes the wall.
I swallow and try to hold back the panic. The tunnel feels too tight, but unlike last time, Taliesin’s presence is more of a comfort than a curse. His hand grazes mine every so often, grounding me before my thoughts begin to spiral. Even Brynsoftens the edge of my fear. She sits on my shoulder, her fluffy tail curled around the back of my neck—a warm, steady reassurance after such a terrible night. After a few hours of steady walking, the torch burns low, but we finally reach the end.
The tunnel empties out into the courtyard of a cliffside castle where a bonfire rages against the night. The flames illuminate dozens of figures wrapped in furs and leathers. Beyond them loom the distant teeth-like battlements of a castle wall. Salt swirls through the smoke, and somewhere far below, waves crash hard against the rocks.
As soon as we step out of the tunnel, a cheer goes up.
And Taliesin goes down, his knees slamming into the dirt.
The rebels move as a single unit. Two get under Taliesin’s shoulders and haul him to his feet while Bryn chatters angrily at them. I like to imagine she’s telling them to be careful with her beloved exile, or she’ll claw holes in their boots. Truth be told, I’m probably not far off.
Gethin and Rhian fall in beside me as we trail him inside the central keep, where another fire rages in the hearth. The room is vast and empty. Faded tapestries hang along the far side, depicting threadbare dragons in flight. As we move inside, dust motes scatter at our steps.
“Thought he might turn up like this,” Rhian says, dropping back her fur lined hood. “What about you? Are you all right? Brioc told me about the talisman.”
In spite of Taliesin’s state, my heart lifts. “They made it back?”
“Safe and sound.” A slow grin spreads across her face. “Withthe harp.”
Utter relief shudders through me. “Thank the stars.”
