“What memories did he show you?”

“Do you want to see them for yourself?”

I pull away to look at him, frowning. “I’m not a seer, Finn. I inherited my mother’s conjuring magic. Bryn inherited both her parents’ specialty powers, but she’s the exception to the rule.”

“I know,” he says, “but if you siphon some of mine, I could show you. It’s what he meant when he said ‘show her,’ but if you’re not comfortable with that, I can just as easily tell you.”

My mind flashes back to the feeling of Finn drinking my blood, the intimacy of his lips on my neck, and I wonder what it would feel like to do the same to him, wonder how he would taste. The idea is both thrilling and unnerving, as I’ve never bit anyone or drank from them. It’s not something fae do unless they’re mated. Then again, it can’t be that hard. Dmitri does it all the time.

And more than anything, I want to see my father’s memories for myself.

I take a deep breath, my resolve firming. “No, I want you to show me.”

“Don’t be nervous, just let your instincts take over,” he says calmly.

“Is that what you did when you drank from me?”

Cupping my face with one of his hands, he brushes his thumb across my cheek and stares into my eyes. “Drinking from you felt like the most natural thing in the world.”

Gods, this male. I don’t know how he’s done it, but he’s claimed my heart in only a few days as though he’s had it for millennia. I wish I could tell him—to say the words he so easily says to me—but the people I love most in this world are so often taken from me. Saying it out loud feels like tempting fate to do it again, and I don’t know that I would survive it if I lost Finnian.

Taking a steadying breath, I say, “I’m ready.”

He slips his hand around to the back of my neck and guides me closer. I pause at his throat, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat against my lips. The skin there is warm and inviting, and his unique scent of bergamot and amber envelops me, comforting and exhilarating all at once.

Closing my eyes, I do as he said and let instinct take over. My senses heighten, and the world narrows down to this singular moment, the feel of him beneath my lips, the anticipation thrumming through my veins.

With a swift, gentle motion, I bite into his flesh. The initial resistance gives way, and his blood rushes into my mouth, warm and powerful. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever tasted, dark and rich with a hint of something primal, a depth that speaks of ancient power and hidden secrets. His Dark Fae blood carries a potency that floods my senses, each drop teeming with raw energy and life.

The connection between us deepens as I drink, his magic merging with mine. Finn’s hand tightens on my neck, not out of pain, but in response to the undeniable affirmation of our destined bond.

Suddenly, a jolt of energy courses through me, causing me to gasp and release my bite as a montage of moments from my father’s life rapidly flashes through my mind…

Meeting secretly with Moira and Barwyn in Tír Tairngire to discuss our visions of the future and make plans…

Instructing a conjuring artisan to craft a box and Armas out of Luna and spelling them to work as lock and key…

Consumed with a mix of sadness and determination as I leave the palace in the middle of the night, gazing up at my children’s bedroom windows one last time…

Living in isolation in the farthest reaches of Faerie…

Mourning my brave son’s death…

Watching from afar as my daughter sets the Summer Palace ablaze in violet fire, my heart breaking for her but knowing it is part of her destined path…

On and on I see pieces of his life. More meetings with Moira and Barwyn at his remote home in the desert, times he looked in on me in this realm, visiting Moira on her death bed to finalize plans, retrieving the Spear of Assal from the Temple of Rhiannon in Faerie, placing Moira’s clues as the hotels were built, making himself a home in the forgotten hall of Abhaile to guard the spear and await my eventual arrival.

And finally, I see Edevane. How he fired an energy ball that sent Athair flying across the room. How Edevane knew the shaft in the glass case was a decoy when he tried to connect it with the spearhead, and nothing happened.

A location spell took him to its hiding place, and once in close proximity, the two halves found each other like magnets. The weapon fused itself back together in Edevane’s hands, an inscription glowing on the shaft just long enough for him to read it. Then, turning to my father, he whispered a command, threw the spear, and watched in smug satisfaction as it soared through the air⁠—

I block that last part out, knowing what came next and not wanting to witness the gory details of the fatal blow that ended my father’s life.

“Are you okay?” Finn asks, searching my face with concern swimming in his honey eyes.

I nod and try to catch my breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. That was…”

“Intense,” he finishes for me. “I know. How are you feeling about everything you saw?”

I lean back against him like before and contemplate his question. “I think it’s going to take some time to process it all. But knowing he had his reasons for leaving in the first place and that he still looked in on us helps. It doesn’t take away the loss of all those years, but it makes it hurt a little less.”

His arms wrap around me tightly as he kisses my temple, letting me draw strength from his embrace. Without words, he tells me he’s here for me with his steady presence and unwavering comfort. Together, we sit in the stillness, waiting for the moment when I’ll have to start the fire and let go of my father and all that he was to me.

I’m not sure how much time passes when Caiden gives us the signal, I don’t remember standing up or walking with Finn to join the others. It’s like I blinked and was suddenly standing in front of the crudely stacked frame made of dismantled posh furniture. Lying on top and wrapped in a rich tapestry of black, silver, and midnight blue is all that’s left of my father, and soon there won’t even be that as his ashes scatter in the desert wind to find their way to Mag Mell.

We form a semi-circle with me in the center. Finn and the twins are to my right with Dmitri, Caiden, and Bryn to my left. No one rushes me, no one shifts impatiently. They simply stand and wait for me.

“Go dtí go gcasfar le chéile sinn arís, Athair.” Until we meet again, father.

Summoning large balls of fire in my upturned palms brings back his final words to me, the same ones he said to me that night of the Scorched Sky. Believe in your fire.

My throat tightens with emotion and my eyes fill with pricks of moisture as I whisper softly, “I’ll try, Athair. For you.”

Then I push the fire into the bottom of the makeshift structure and drag in a deep, shuddering breath. Finn gathers me in his arms as the flames of the pyre grow stronger, casting a violet glow against the sea of darkness. I watch as they engulf my father’s body, his silhouette blurred by the heat and my tears. Each snap and pop of the wood seems to echo the shattering of my heart.

As time passes, the others begin to drift farther away, giving me space to mourn. Even Finn eventually kisses my head and leaves, understanding I need to be alone with my thoughts. I stand there for hours, memories I have of my father floating through my mind alternating with the memories he showed me.

I think about fate. I think about Finn and my mother and Edevane and Moira and how we’re all connected by tenuous strands of destiny. I think of how we each have our part to play, and how I want the game to go moving forward.

Because fate might have made some of our moves for us, but I’m going to make my own from here on out, and there’s only one way this is going to end.

When the last of the embers die out and my father’s ashes begin to float into the pink-orange glow of the sunrise, I turn and walk to where the others are resting near the truck. They get to their feet and look at me expectantly, understandably waiting to see what I want to do next.

But I’m done mourning for now. Sadness has turned into fierce determination, and I’m ready to see this through.

“Let’s go. It’s time to kill a king.”

THIRTYFINNIAN

The vast expanse of Joshua Tree is a rugged landscape that feels like the edge of the world, and where we’re going, it actually is.

Before leaving Vegas, we stopped for changes of clothes and supplies, then Dmitri, Connor, and Conall hopped into my Range Rover with me and Taryn. The drive is a quiet one, filled with the weight of unspoken thoughts and the steady hum of the engine.

Since leaving the desert where we honored Garyth, Taryn has been understandably somber. I’ve never felt as helpless as when I stood with her in front of the pyre, watching the smoke and ash spiral into the night sky as she said her final goodbyes.

I wish like hell I could’ve spared her that pain. She’s lost so much already in her lifetime, and although her relationship with her mother is a complicated one, I know losing her too would destroy Taryn. I can’t change what happened to Garyth, but I will do whatever it takes to make sure Aine doesn’t face the same fate, and so will Taryn.

As the last of the flames died down, I could feel her channeling her anguish into a renewed desire for retribution, compartmentalizing the loss to focus on the mission ahead. After we take Edevane down and save Faerie, there will be plenty of time for her to process everything, and I’ll be there for her when she does.