When Magic Wakes

  She had definitely cried that day.

  But a lifetime of torture from her brothers and training to enter the Seer Guard had taught her to keep that kind of emotion locked up tight. It was a weakness that others would exploit.

  Tonight, she cried. As she pushed out into the cool, damp night of the forest, tears leaked down her cheeks despite her best efforts to keep them from falling.

  She shouldn’t let it get to her. Aedan’s words, though, had cut right to the core of her fears. She did care what others thought of her, what they thought of her ability to perform as a seer guard. She knew she shouldn’t, and yet she did.

  Even more, she cared what Aedan thought.

  When he put voice to her greatest fear, that he didn’t think her worthy of her assignment, it had cut straight through to her heart.

  She heard the door open behind her and quickly wiped at the moisture.

  It might have been the middle of the night, but the area outside the tavern glowed with the pinkish light of magical torches.

  “Bree, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  She whirled on him, channeling all of her pain into anger. “No! Don’t apologize. You don’t mean it.”

  “I do.” He walked toward her.

  She backed away with a laugh. “I don’t believe you.”

  “You were right,” he said. “I was trying to make you mad. I wanted your anger to fuel my magic.”

  “Mission accomplished.”

  His eyes darkened with pain. “Eliciting your anger is one thing. Trying to hurt you is unforgivable.”

  She stared at him, trying to decide if she thought he meant it. He looked like he was in genuine pain. As if knowing that he’d hurt her was hurting him. If all he was looking for was a magical charge, then he should be reveling in her pain.

  But could she trust him? He had been deliberately trying to get a rise out of her all night—maybe even the entire duration of her assignment. How could she just let that go?

  “Aedan, I—”

  “Ultan had me for months.”

  His words dropped into the space between them like an ice bomb. Froze the entire world around them until Bree felt like she was encased in ice. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

  Whatever she had been about to say died on her tongue. “What?”

  His face broke into a look of such pain that Bree had to clench her hands into fists to keep from grabbing him and hugging him tight.

  “You were only gone for a few days,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Everyone said—”

  “Everyone is wrong.” He took a step closer, as if he couldn’t bear to speak the words across any more distance than absolutely necessary. “Ultan has power over time. It seemed like a days to everyone else. But for us, he rewound those days over and over.”

  She clutched her hand to her mouth, unable to process what he was saying. Inside, she shattered into a million pieces.

  “I tried to keep track. But the days began to run together. After about three months, I lost count.” He flinched. “It continued for what felt like an eternity after that.”

  Bree tried to imagine what that had been like. He must have been terrified. He must have been convinced that no one would ever come for him. He must have lost all hope.

  And yet, here he was, proof that hope survives even the darkest times. No wonder he was so beautifully broken. She wanted to be the glue that put him back together.

  “I haven’t told anyone.”

  His hands shook.

  His whole body shook.

  “Aedan…”

  “I’m not telling you as an excuse for my behavior. I’m telling you because I want you to understand. This is why I train. This is why—misguided as it may be—I push you to charge my magic.” His eyes met hers, and she saw more pain than a person should be able to bear. “So that next time I can stop him.”

  “That bastard,” she whispered.

  If Ultan were standing in front of her right then, she would strangle him with her bare hands. What kind of monster could do such a thing?

  The reality of what Aedan told her put other things into perspective. Suddenly, everything that had been her biggest concerns seemed ridiculously silly in comparison.

  “I’m sorry too.”

  He gave her a confused smile. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

  “You were right. I shouldn’t care what strangers think of me. I shouldn’t care what anyone thinks of me,” she said. “Except for the people I actually care about.”

  She closed the distance between them by a step.

  “I care what you think,” she told him.

  He moved another step closer. “And I care what you think.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and just held him. Comforted him. Pulled herself up again him, pressing her cheek against his chest and reveling in the feel of his solid warmth.

  The way his arms circled her waist and pulled her even tighter suggested that he need this as much as she did.

  She could have stayed like that forever. Wanted to stay like that forever. But reality intruded. Reality, and the understanding that the shadows that haunted Aedan’s mind would never be truly banished if he didn’t exorcise them.

  She leaned back, letting her hands rest on his shoulders. “You have to tell them. You have to testify against Ultan and tell everyone what he did to you.”

  He shuddered. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “You have to.” She took his face between her palms. “You can’t let him win.”

  She reached up to smooth the crease in his furrowed brow. Pushing past the joy that was currently flooding her, she dug up her anger at Ultan and her frustration at Aedan for keeping this to himself, letting it fester for far too long.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, obviously sensing her emotions.

  “You feel that anger?” When he nodded, she explained, “That’s nothing compared to how mad I’ll be if Ultan gets off scot free because you didn’t testify.”

  “Bree, it’s not that simple.”

  “It really is,” she insisted. “Now, I know it’s scary. But you won’t be alone this time.”

  He scowled, like he didn’t understand what she meant.

  “Your mother and brother will be there. Half your clan will be there.” She quirked her mouth into a cocky smirk. “I’ll be there.”

  “I don’t deserve you,” he finally said with a force laugh.

  She rolled her eyes. “I think that’s up to me to decide.”

  He was silent for a long time, and she didn’t push him. Didn’t rush him. He had to make that decision on his own.

  Finally, he nodded.

  She pulled him close.

  Testifying would be hard on him. He would need whatever support he could get. She didn’t know what strength she could give him, but she would be there when he took the stand. She would be there for him.

  Seventeen

  As Aedan climbed onto the witness stand, it was like he was back in that dungeon. His vision dimmed. He was cold. So very cold. His entire being distilled down to all-consuming fear and unstoppable shaking.

  He hid the shaking, he thought.

  But could he hide the fear?

  Judging by the smirk on Ultan’s face, the fear was on full display.

  Aedan couldn’t do it. He couldn’t sit up there, in front of his entire clan, and tell them what had happened. It had been hard enough to tell Bree.

  It was easier to keep it all bottled up inside, to keep it in the shadows where it belonged. Saying it out loud would bring it out of the shadows. Would speak it into reality.

  He couldn’t handle that.

  He turned, ready to tell his brother that he had changed his mind.

  As his gaze swept across the room, he saw the fire. Bright, flaming orange, the color of the hottest sunset.

  Bree.

  His world narrowed to her. Sitting in the front row, smiling at him, her green eyes bright and hopeful a
nd full of warmth.

  His magic only sensed the faintest charge from her distress, her concern for him. Otherwise, her emotions were overwhelmingly positive.

  That gave him strength.

  She gave him strength. Not from her emotions, but from her.

  He smiled back, and the shaking stopped.

  Cathair stood. “We will now hear testimony from Prince Aedan O Cuana.”

  The entire courtroom looked at him.

  Panic tightened around his throat. He wasn’t sure if he could speak. But he had to try.

  “Ultan Kavanagh captured me by force of magic, held me prisoner in a chamber that drained all powers but his—” Aedan drew in a deep breath. “—for nearly a year.”

  Whispers swept the courtroom.

  Aedan looked at Ultan, whose eyes widened slightly in surprise. The traitor had not expected him to confess the truth, had expected him to be too ashamed of his own failures to tell the world.

  But both Bree and his mother were right. If Aedan did not face his captor, he would never be free.

  Time stood still as he spoke aloud things he had not even permitted himself to think about in the weeks since his rescue. It might have been several hours or only a few minutes. With every truth he spoke, he felt the weight of his shadows lift.

  Throughout the entire monologue, Aedan kept his eyes trained on the same spot. He kept his focus on Bree.

  Her steadfast smile encouraged him, promised him that he could make it through. He had survived Ultan’s captivity. He would survive this.

  When he finished his personal testimony, he looked at his brother.

  “Thank you, Prince Aedan,” Cathair said, with more warmth than usual. “Counsel for the crown, you may begin your questions.”

  Aedan’s heart pounded twice as hard as at the start of his testimony. It was one thing to put things into his own words, but he could not control the questions asked of him. He only hoped he could control his reactions.

  His eyes caught Bree’s, and he felt his anxiety fade. He could. He would control his reactions.

  The counsellor pushed up from the table. “The crown has no questions for this witness.”

  Aedan’s gaze darted to the defendant’s table. To the defendant himself, who was acting as his own counsel.

  Cathair cleared his throat. “Very well. Defendant’s counsel may question the witness.”

  All eyes in the courtroom were glued on Ultan as he pushed slowly to his feet, the dark purple robes that shrouded him in perpetual darkness swirling around him like a whirlpool of evil.

  If Aedan’s heart rate had sped up before, it now hammered at his chest faster than a woodpecker in spring.

  Ultan looked at him with those lavender eyes, his face expressionless. Then his gaze shifted to the dais and he announced, “The defendant has no questions either.”

  It was as though every fae in the room held their breath, waiting to see what came next. Aedan was quite certain that no defendant in the history of the clan had ever declined to question the primary witness against them.

  The queen bent her head in conference with Cathair for a moment and then pushed to her feet.

  “Is there any additional testimony from the clan?”

  She glanced at both attorneys and then cast her gaze over the fae gathered in the courtroom. Many shook their heads, others bit their lips in anxious anticipation.

  When none came forward, the queen announced, “Then I declare the trial closed. The royal council will now retire to the assembly chamber to deliberate.”

  Eighteen

  Half the fae in the courtroom stood at once.

  Bree was in the front row, but suddenly there was a sea of fae before her, most talking in hushed whispers about the case.

  It was hard to believe it was actually over. She knew it hadn’t been all that long, but it felt like the trial—and her assignment as Aedan’s guard—had been going on forever. For it to end so abruptly, and with so little fanfare… It was kind of anti-climactic.

  But she wasn’t going to complain.

  After pushing her way around, through, and once even over the crowd of fae at the front of the courtroom, she finally reached the front and spotted Aedan. He stood with Tearloch, the captain leaning over the barrier behind the defendant’s table to pat the young prince on the shoulder.

  Aedan looked over at her, his eyes slightly wide with the fear she knew had to be still racing through his body. She could see it in the shadows of his eyes, in the flare of his nostrils, in the stiff way he held himself. As if he couldn’t relax a single muscle without risking a complete collapse.

  He had done an amazing job on the stand. Even though some of the details hurt for her to hear, she tried to stay as positive as possible. She wanted to give him as much strength as she could.

  Now, she only wanted to wrap her arms around him, hug him close and promise that nothing bad would ever happen to him again. She couldn’t make that promise, of course. No one could.

  Besides, she didn’t know exactly what was going on between them, but she didn’t think embracing him in front of the entire clan was how she wanted to find out.

  As she approached, Tearloch patted him on the back and then disappeared into the crowd.

  “Hi,” she said.

  He gave her a small, broken smile. “Hi.”

  He just looked at her for a long time, in the same way he’d watched her from the witness stand. Like he couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to.

  Lucky for Bree, she didn’t want him to either.

  Someone knocked into her from behind, sending her stumbling into his arms. He caught her, and set her up upright. But he didn’t release her.

  She had a feeling that, if they were anywhere but in that courtroom just then, his mouth would have been on hers. Or maybe hers would have been on his. Since they were currently smack dab in the middle of half his clan, that would have to wait.

  Finally, when she couldn’t stand the tension any longer, she asked, “So, you come around here often?”

  His dark eyes flashed. She wished he couldn’t sense her nervousness. A downside of hanging out with a guy who could sense your every negative feeling.

  “Nah,” he replied, “just stopped in to testify against the traitor who tried to destroy me.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “And you?” he asked, playing along.

  She huffed out an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, you know. Protecting some spoiled royal who totally overdramatizes everything.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a shaky laugh. “I hear the prince can be a real jerk sometimes.”

  Bree shrugged. “I have four brothers. I’ve seen worse.”

  His smile spread and she saw some of the tension ease from his eyes. That was better.

  “You did great,” she told him.

  He shook his head, suddenly serious again. “I didn’t tell them the worst part.”

  “What do you mean?”

  His voice dropped to a whisper only she could hear. “How I let Ultan capture me. I was too weak to fight him.”

  “You couldn’t have,” Bree insisted.

  “I should have tried harder.” His eyes shuttered, and she wanted to do everything in her power to push the shadows away.

  “Listen to me,” she said in as steady a voice as she could manage. “Ultan is one of the most powerful fae who ever lived. Nothing you could have done would have stopped him.”

  He looked at her, his gaze so intense it was like he was trying to see through her to discern the truth of her statement.

  “No one could have,” she continued. She stepped closer, until there was only a breath between them. “You have to forgive yourself.”

  As he watched her, she watched his dark eyes right back. Looking for any sign of comprehension, of understanding and acceptance that he was not to blame. That he couldn’t have prevented what Ultan did to him.

  She saw it happen. Saw the light shift in his eyes. Saw
the shadows retreat, replaced by spark that she often saw when they were running through the forest, when the rest of the world disappeared.

  He nodded.

  It was barely noticeable, the tiniest of movements, but it was enough. She saw, and she knew. He understood. He believed her.

  Suddenly, the mood shifted in the courtroom around them, and Bree turned to see why. Cathair and the queen were climbing up onto the dais.

  “The council has reached a verdict,” Queen Eimear’s voiced echoed into the eerily silent room.

  “Already?” Bree whispered.

  Aedan stood, stiff as a board, all the tension racing back into him like lightning.

  A trio of guards guided Ultan back to his seat at the defendant’s table.

  This was it.

  “We must have order,” the queen called out. “Quiet, please, so the verdict can be announced.”

  Bree moved closer to Aedan’s side. She felt his arm move and then his hand wrapped around hers. She laced their fingers together and they stood there, side by side, palm to palm, as they waited for the verdict.

  Nineteen

  The moment his mother called for order, Aedan found it difficult to breathe. Something hot and fierce clamped around his chest and wouldn’t let go.

  Then Bree squeezed his hand and the clamp released. Not all the way, but enough.

  He squeezed back.

  “The council has informed us that a verdict has been reached in the case of the Clan Moraine against Ultan Kavanagh.” The queen gazed out over the crowd as she spoke.

  She didn’t look at Aedan. That was supposed to be a bad sign, was it not? The court didn’t look at the losing side.

  But no, that was not possible. The verdict was kept sealed until presented to the court. She couldn’t know yet if it was bad news.

  Aedan tried to convince his heart to return to a normal beat. It refused.

  If he survived this day, he needed to increase his cardiovascular exercise. Longer runs. Definitely longer runs.

  Beside him, Bree was just as nervous. He could feel the near-constant flash of her anxiety and fear on his behalf.