I’m still staring up at the moon, lost in thought, when Taryn speaks. “Finn, not that I’m not grateful to have my Armas back, but do you want to explain how something that was taken from me while in captivity came to be in your possession?”
There’s a sharp wariness in her eyes, and I notice she’s taken at least two steps back from me. Her lean muscles, honed from centuries of training and fighting, are tense, ready to attack or bolt, depending on my answer.
Her distrust in me shouldn’t sting like it does. Even with everything she’s witnessed me do to help her in the last twenty-four hours, likely the only reason she agreed to come with me was because she witnessed Dmitri offer me the Blood Oath. She trusts him, and he trusts me.
Part of me feels like that should be enough for her, but then I remember that she wasn’t there with us all these months as we worked together tirelessly to find her. While we were out here, she was locked away from everything and everyone she loved, constantly weak and in pain from the iron walls caging her in. I can only imagine what that kind of treatment does to a person’s ability to trust outsiders. Especially a royal from one of the courts her mother banished.
So, if she needs to grill me all night before she’s satisfied I’m on her side, I’ll answer every question without protest.
“Edevane left it behind when he stole an ancient artifact from our Temple. I think he wanted us to know that he had the daughter of the One True Queen. He told me he wants revenge for our exile, and being the egotistical asshole that he is, bragging that he had Aine’s only daughter was something he couldn’t pass up.”
“What did he steal from you? And how? I would’ve thought you’d protect your Temple to keep anyone other than Darks from entering.”
Sighing, I stare down into my glass and swirl the whiskey around absently. “It’s a long story.”
“Then it’s a good thing I have nothing but time.”
She steps in again, closing the distance she put between us when she was unsure of me. A small gesture on the surface, but its impact on me is bigger than that. I don’t know why what Taryn thinks or whether she fully trusts me is so important. Maybe it’s my Verran pride showing, wanting to maintain our reputation for being honorable. Maybe it’s because Dmitri and I have grown close over the last year and as his adopted sister, I want her to know me as he does.
Or maybe it’s because of the torch you’ve been carrying for her from the moment you held her Armas in your hand. The one that’s only gotten brighter since laying eyes on her.
Downing the last of my whiskey like I’m doing shots to forget an ex-lover, I mentally close the door on any and all fires burning inside me. “I suppose it’s time I catch you up on some things. Let’s head inside and get comfortable.”
I haven’t forgotten about the eclipse and the strange shock we got earlier. Although I’m sure there are logical explanations for both, better safe than sorry.
She follows me inside and pulls the sliding door closed behind us. I pause at the wet bar to refill our glasses, then she takes her wine and curls up in the corner of one of the couches. I settle into the large armchair perpendicular to her.
“I’ll try to give you the abridged version,” I say, smoothing a hand over my jaw, thinking of how best to start. “A couple months after you were taken last year, Edevane attempted to assassinate my oldest brother, Caiden, while he was king by using the blood curse.”
“Wait,” she says, leaning in over the arm rest. “While he was king? He’s not king anymore?”
My mouth hitches up in a half-grin. “Hold on, we’ll get there.”
“Right, sorry. How did he use the blood curse?”
“He manipulated situations that ended with Caiden marrying a female named Bryn Meara in a drunken Vegas one-night-stand, complete with the fae bonding ritual. Then he made several attempts on Bryn’s life.”
Taryn nods in understanding. “Edevane couldn’t kill your brother because of the treaty between your courts. If either king kills the other, his own life would be forfeit. But the blood curse gets around that. Kill the queen, and the curse will kill the king for you.”
“Exactly. So when Caiden and Bryn fell in love for real, the only way to keep her safe was for my brother to abdicate. If he was no longer king, Edevane would have no reason to harm Bryn. As next in line, Tiernan ascended the Midnight Throne.”
“And that’s when Edevane stole the artifact?”
“Not quite. First, he used a bunch of propaganda footage to create an extremist hate group of humans called the New Purity Order who used hag stones to hunt our people. With Fiona’s help we infiltrated the group and took it down, along with Edevane. After we captured him, we took him to the iron cells beneath our Temple.”
Taryn’s brows shot up toward her hairline. “Oh damn. That wasn’t by accident, I take it.”
“No, it wasn’t,” I grate out before taking a healthy sip of whiskey. “Getting caught was the only way he’d ever get inside our protection spells. He wanted in, and we walked him right through the front fucking door.”
“You couldn’t have known that, Finn. I get that it’s frustrating—believe me, I know. Wishing I would’ve seen what was coming is something I have a lot of experience with—but focusing on the past doesn’t help you in the present.”
Locking my gaze onto her soft lavender eyes, I ask, “And are you good about taking your own advice?”
Her lips twist into a rueful smile. “Not in the least. Doesn’t mean it’s not solid.”
I nod. “Anyway, I went to see him because I had a bad feeling I couldn’t shake. He told me a story about my grandmother stealing the Spear of Assal from his grandfather and claimed our Tri-Stone was the spearhead, glamoured. Then he broke out of the cell using some kind of spell, and the glass case that held the Tri-Stone was empty, except for your necklace.”
Taryn shifts and draws her feet under her further, almost as though she’s uncomfortable, but I know it’s not due to the Italian leather couch. “Is something wrong?” I ask. I watch her expression carefully, but it doesn’t give anything away. Her features are relaxed and serene.
“My Armas means a lot to me,” she says, her hand curling around her pendant protectively. “I was infuriated when it was taken from me. To hear that Edevane used it as a common taunt in whatever game he’s playing doesn’t sit much better.”
“No, I don’t suppose it would.” Taryn lowers her hand again, and I stare at the way it nestles against her brown skin. “Does it always feel so…alive?”
Her brows draw together over the bridge of her nose. “Alive how?”
“As soon as I held it in my hand… I don’t know how to explain it, but it felt like I was supposed to have it. There was this energy that vibrated through my body wherever the pendant touched. Instead of holding onto it or slipping it into my pocket, I put it on as though it was the most natural thing to do. I told myself it was the best place for it until I could lock it in my safe back home, but…”
Fuck me, this is going to sound bad when I say it out loud. Scrubbing a hand over my trim beard, I blow out a breath then pull out a coil of black nylon rope I stored in the end table drawer. If I have to admit to being an Armas junkie, I’ll do it while self-tying a gauntlet on my forearm as a distraction.
As I shake out the thirty feet of rope, I force myself to continue. “I couldn’t bring myself to take it off. I felt connected to you with it on, almost like I could sense your presence. Sometimes I even thought you were trying to communicate with me through it.”
“I assumed one of the guards had it. If I’d tried communicating with them, it would have been more of a death threat vibe.”
My mouth quirks up. “Makes sense,” I say as I hook the middle of the rope on my thumb and wrap the two ropes it creates behind and around to the front. Looping and threading, I make a rose knot on the inside of my wrist, then repeat the wrap-around and knot process.
“At any rate, the first UFCO fight I had after that, I forced myself to leave it in my locker to keep it safe. I hated every fucking minute of that fight. I managed to focus on what I was doing, but the whole time I could feel the Armas scratching the back of my brain like it wanted to make sure I didn’t forget it was there.
“Each time I took it off for a fight, the reactions got worse. My skin felt too tight, my hands shook; the need to get back to it consumed me. But as soon as I put it on again, it all stopped, and this wave of calm would roll through me.”
Taryn’s eyebrows lift. “That sounds like drug withdrawals, Finn.”
I nod. “Yeah. It’s not like that for you, I take it?”
“No, never. I have a sentimental attachment to it because my father had it made for me, but I’ve never felt anything like what you described.” She chews on the corner of her lip for a second, her brows drawn together in thought, and I focus on adding another rose to the gauntlet to keep from scrutinizing what that means. “How long ago did that happen? When Edevane left my Armas behind, I mean.”
“Early March.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” she mutters under her breath as she finishes off her wine in one big gulp. Then she gives me a hesitant look, like she can’t decide whether to tell me something.
“It can’t be any worse than what I’ve already admitted to.”
“That’s around the time I began seeing a pair of golden eyes in my dreams. Your eyes, Finn.”
I freeze and look up. “The drawings.”
She averts her gaze as a pink hue colors her fine cheekbones. “You noticed them, then.”
My left eyebrow lifts. “Kind of hard to miss the wall that was like looking into a hundred illustrated mirrors. I forgot all about them until now, though.”
