Chapter 33
Tamsin didn’t have to play up her fear to keep Maeve’s court interested. The icy feeling in her gut was entirely real.
Cuan, where are you?
Even with Morcant’s cold stare fixed on her like a cat watching a mouse, her worry was mostly for Cuan. Not that she wasn’t anxious about her own fate, but she’d face that when it came.
From the way Morcant hadn’t shown the slightest interest in her public meltdown, she was pretty sure he didn’t want to suck her soul dry, at least. And he hadn’t so much as glanced at her body, not even once, so she was betting he wasn’t planning to add her to his own sex dungeon. Whatever he did want with her…well, she’d just have to deal with it.
But she couldn’t deal with something happening to Cuan. That was what made her palms sweat and her heart hammer against her ribs. She didn’t know what she feared more—that he wouldn’t show up, or that he would.
She knew he wouldn’t have just left her like this, she knew it. He would have crawled on broken legs across the monster-filled void between the realms to return to her. Even if it was hopeless, even if he could only try to buy her a second to escape by flinging himself onto Morcant’s sword…he would have come.
Don’t come,half her heart silent begged Cuan, while the other half howled in anguish, knowing that something must have happened to him. Save yourself. Stay away. Don’t come-
“My lady,” said that deep, beloved voice from behind her.
Tamsin whipped round. Cuan stood in the arched entranceway to the great hall, the door ajar behind him. He had one hand braced on the stone wall. There was a huge purple bruise blooming on one temple, and he looked distinctly the worse for wear. But he was there, with Motley at one shoulder and Aodhan at the other.
“About time, beast,” Maeve said crossly from the high table. “You have kept us waiting.”
Cuan bowed, though his gaze stayed fixed on Tamsin. When he spoke, it still wasn’t Maeve that he addressed. “I am sorry for the delay, my lady. I came as fast as I could.”
Tamsin pelted for him, all dignity abandoned. He made the slightest oof sound as she crashed into him, but caught her in his arms. She pressed herself tight against his armored chest, hot tears of mingled relief and terror leaking down her cheeks. He was warm and solid and she knew, in that moment, that she was never, ever going to let him go again.
“We have to go,” she whispered. She looked over Cuan’s shoulder at Motley. “We have to go now. Motley, open the door, to anywhere, hurry!”
Cuan pressed a kiss to her forehead. “All will be well. But it is time, Motley.”
The raven shifter opened his mouth, but whatever he’d intended to say was lost in the grinding scrape of silver against stone. Morcant had risen, pushing back Maeve’s heavy throne in a sharp, impatient movement.
“Let us finish this at last.” The prince stalked forward, his ether armor appearing around his body in a glitter of light. He drew his blade from thin air, pointing it at Cuan. “Will you surrender, or face me?”
Cuan ignored the prince. He kissed Tamsin’s brow again, then released her. Turning, he exchanged a silent yet meaningful glance with Aodhan.
Then he took Motley’s wrist. “Take care, my friend.”
The raven shifter gripped Cuan’s forearm in return. He smiled—that sweet, joyous, unreserved smile.
“Good,” Motley said, sounding satisfied. “Right, this. Will see you again. Promise.”
“What-?” Tamsin started, but Motley was already backing away, reaching behind him for the door handle. For the briefest instant, Tamsin smelled fallen leaves, damp loam—and then the door closed, and Motley and Aodhan were gone.
“If you have finished your farewells,” Morcant said, with ice edging his voice. “Perhaps we can finally begin?”
“No,” Tamsin breathed. Catching Cuan’s arm with one hand, she put out the other, pushing frantically at the door. It swung open a crack, revealing nothing more than the dark corridors of the sidhean beyond. “Cuan, you can’t, don’t throw your life away for nothing!”
“I am not.” He touched her face, very gently, fingers lingering on the curve of her cheek. “Tamsin. All will be well. Trust me.”
Her first impulse was to hang onto his arm and try to drag him away from Morcant…but something in his golden eyes made her hesitate. They were very calm and steady, just like they had been before the other duels…yet there was something new there, a kind of brightness, that she’d never seen before.
“Trust me,” he breathed, and she did.
She let him go. Cuan strode to the center of the room confidently…and straight past Morcant.
The prince did not seem used to being ignored. For a moment he just stood there, blinking at the spot where Cuan was supposed to be, as though doubting the evidence of his own senses. By the time he finally turned round, Cuan was already down on one knee in front of Maeve.
Lady Maeve stared at Cuan’s bowed head, looking just as nonplussed as Prince Morcant. “What is this, beast? Yet another last farewell before you meet your fate?”