Not know them? How could she even think the words? She could be as mad as she liked, but she knew how they kissed and how they loved it when she wrapped her arms around them. She knew that Lach tended to take the lead, but Shim was the soft touch. Lach had always been more closed off, but once he opened up, he threw himself into everything with an almost wild abandon. The games they had played through their shared dreams when they were children had proven that. Lach would start by watching and standing to the side while Shim held her hand, but by morning Lach would run and play and scream with them. Shim liked stories. Even as they aged. As their dreams turned more physical, Shim still wanted to hear stories from her life and made-up tales.
But that was in her dreams. Dreams, not reality. Reality was Torin killing half the plane. Reality was she was the last of her line still living on the plane, and she couldn’t chase after her dreams.
Niall took a long breath. “It doesn’t matter. We need to get you to Sir Giles’s province. I sent word that I was bringing you.”
“Did you? And how were you going to explain my absence?” As far as Niall had known, she was a heap of ashes in the town square.
He flushed a little. “That’s why I needed the knife.”
“You were going to find someone to take my place. I’m not sure my father would approve.” Of course she also knew how deeply ruthless her father could be. She doubted that becoming a corpse-eating ghost had softened him much. “I suppose it wouldn’t be too difficult to find someone with the Finn coloring. And if father taught you, then you could perhaps teach her how to do a halfway decent impression of me. After all, no one has seen me since I was a child.”
He reached out for her hand. “I was doing what it took to secure the throne and get rid of Torin so your father has a chance to be free and your brothers a shot at coming home.”
She avoided his touch. It wasn’t a horrible plan.
“Well now you don’t need to. You have me.” Her course was set. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving them. She’d just discovered her Dark Ones, but the only thought that hurt worse than leaving was the idea of staying and discovering all the ways they planned to use her.
Niall settled his pack on his shoulder. “You need to change. We’ll have to pose as husband and wife travelling to market or looking for work, but people will ask about that dress. It’s too nice to travel in, and it looks as though it got singed. Come on. Let’s go inside and get you ready. You can pack up som
e small items. It should be two days’ walk to Sir Giles’s.”
He turned and walked back up to the tower. Bron followed. She knew she was placing a lot of faith in a man she barely knew, but her father sent him, and she would fare better with a pretend husband than on her own.
“I’ll be quick.” Bron rushed up the stairs, already pulling at the ties of her dress. The wolf shuffled up behind her, utterly ignoring Bron’s command to stay. She opened the door to her small room and let the wolf in. “You only listen when you want to.”
Bron quickly crossed to her dresser and pulled out travelling clothes. Suede pants and a big blousy shirt. Comfortable clothes.
“I suppose you won’t let me eat him now. No one ever does.” A feminine voice had Bron shrieking.
She turned and there was a naked female on her bed. She was slight, petite, and graceful with huge brown eyes and a mass of wavy, sun-kissed brown hair. And the wolf was nowhere in sight. A shape-shifter? A hag could shift.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m not a hag. Everyone always assumes I’m a hag. Meg says I’m a werewolf which is much better than what Dante calls me. Shanimal. Silly name and a silly man.”
Dante? “Dante Dellacourt? My cousin?”
The woman smiled, a bright thing that lit up the room. “Your cousin, my husband. I think that makes us family, Bronwyn. Or should I call you princess? Your brothers are very informal.”
Tears welled. Where there had been terror only a moment ago, a reluctant hope swelled inside. “My brothers?” She was talking to a naked wolf woman who claimed to be her cousin by law. It was all too much. “I find it very convenient that you suddenly know my brothers.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “I do not suddenly know Beck and Cian. I have known them for awhile now. At first I think Beck feared that he would have to slay me. It’s a good thing he did not try. I would have taken a chunk out of his hide. And Megan would have been very distressed. She likes me. She’s my cousin, too. It is good to have family. Although my family is very odd. I like you. You’re different. You seem to understand the necessity to be a bit brutal with your enemies. Which brings me back to my original point. I think you should allow me to eat that man. He is going to get you in trouble.”
Bron ignored the fact that the slender woman seemed deeply preoccupied with eating creatures. “Who is Megan?”
“Megan is the Queen.”
“My brothers bonded?” Torin had done everything he could to ensure his brothers couldn’t find a proper bondmate. She’d heard rumors that great battles were being fought in the arena when a bondmate could be found. The rumors had it that vampires and refugee Fae would fight to the death in an attempt to possess one.
The woman nodded, a small smile on her face. “A true bond. Your brothers have ascended into their powers. Beckett Finn is a Storm Lord and Cian a Green Man. Though he is not actually green. He is normal looking. I am told the title should not be taken literally.”
Beck and Cian had formed a true triumvirate. It was beyond imagining. “I can’t believe it.”
“They came into their powers a few months ago when they found Megan. As the Unseelie twins ascended into theirs when they bound to their perfect mate.”
“Me.” She wasn’t sure how it had happened, but she knew it was true. It was right there, that invisible thread that she’d always thought of as an inward sign of her own insanity. She’d never seen it for what it truly was—the bond between mates. And not just any mates. Symbiotic twins. She bridged them, giving them access to the other half of their soul. And apparently giving them powers. “Shim is a Fire Lord.”
“I think I heard the word pyromancer used. And necromancer for Lachlan.”
Lord of the Dead. Heat and Cold. Two halves of a whole and she’d felt both powers skimming through her system. “Why are you here? Where is Dante? Where are my brothers for that matter?”