“Niece?” Finnian is the first to pick up on that key word.
My mate. A goddess. Divine blood running through her veins this whole time.
Awe shifts in my chest. Or terror. Hard to tell with goddesses.
But underneath both?
Of course.
Of course she’s divine. I’ve known it since the first time she looked at me and something old and wild in my blood saidher. The Wild Court doesn’t bow to anyone.
We bowed to her.
Never mind this goddess just said I’m not up to the task of finding my mate.
I am not letting it slide. I’m putting a pin in it.
Until someone else brings it up.
Seriously she scares me.
“She is a goddess.” Kieran fills in the gaps.
“Everything Tadhg said was true.” I’m glad I’m sitting because I would have fallen back on my ass.
“How do we get to the court? How do we get to her?” Kieran questions. “You must have a plan if you’re gaining enjoyment out of torturing us.”
“A back door,” Morrigan states evenly.
“There are no such doors.” Kieran laughs.
“Are you so blind as to overlook the Dark Forest?” Macha smirks.
“You cannot be serious.” I laugh, this time her plan searing away my buzz from its absolute absurdity. “Do you not know what dwells in the borderlands? Especially the Dark Forest?”
“Of course I know.” Macha tilts her head. “I was there when Badb breathed life unto them.”
Finnian whistles low. I was not prepared for that answer. “That confirms it.” I slap my hand on the bar top. “You are terrifying.”
“I know.”
“You want to simply walk through the borderlands and into the Dark Forest and toward the castle.” Kieran begins to pace. “Even if we get through the forest and toward the castle it’s open land, they will see us.”
Morrigan and Macha look at each other, before looking back at Kieran who didn’t notice. But I did. I saw.
“We have a plan,” Morrigan evades.
“When was the last you entered the Dark Forest?” Finnian asks.
“What does it matter?” Macha questions.
But it is Morrigan I want and she looks thoughtful. “The forest isn’t what it was,” I say as I cross my arms. “Even a couple hundred years ago it was far more hospitable.”
“It was never designed to be hospitable,” Macha counters. “But go on.”
“Now the puddles swallow you whole. The trees move and block the paths. Don’t even let me get on about the rodents.” I shudder. “But it is the Dark Forest dwellers that have gotten,” this time I share a look with Whispen. “Brave.”
“Explain,” she demands.
