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“Ronan! No!”
The guards’ pull was something she couldn’t fight, couldn’t shake off. Inexorably, they dragged her backward, through the huge double doors of the throne room and into the corridor, where her cries echoed as they uncuffed her. Just as the massive doors swung shut, she glimpsed the piece of the bosca fadbh floating eerily in front of Ronan and a guard behind him, a silver sword glinting viciously in the reflected light of the piece of the bosca fadbh.
ELEVEN
The doors slammed shut, Bella stared at the closed entrance to the throne room for a moment in complete shock and then rushed toward the doors, only to be blocked by an implacable row of sh
ining rose and gold.
She whirled and ran down the corridor, pushing past anyone who got in her way, until she reached the front doors of the tower and burst through them. In the square outside the Seelie Court, she went down hard on her knees in the snow. It immediately soaked through the fabric of her jeans and numbed her skin, but that only made that part of her body match the rest of her.
All around her, revelers stopped their singing and laughing and stared at her. To Bella it truly was the longest, darkest night of the year.
Before her, on the other side of the square, loomed the Black Tower of the Unseelie Court. All the dark art she’d tried so hard to suppress fluttered deep within her and rose on grief-encrusted wings. All the curses she’d never given voice to beat against the box within her mind where she’d locked them, those for the queen most especially strong. Long-repressed magick bubbled inside her, ready to explode.
She closed her eyes. No. She might have Unseelie blood flowing through her veins, but she wouldn’t give in to the impulse to hurt others because she was feeling hurt herself. That was not Bella and never would be.
Maybe she could manifest something good. Perhaps instead of weaving curses, she could weave a wish instead. Maybe if it came from her heart . . . She closed her eyes and concentrated as hard as she could on the outcome she wanted. Magick bubbled out of her like water quenching dry earth.
Please, Danu, please.
It wasn’t possible that she could have come this far, lost Ronan for so many years, only to find him and lose him again this way. His soul was a perfect match for hers, singing and twining in a beautiful song within her heart. Even his magick complemented hers—more than she could have ever known.
This ending simply wasn’t possible.
Would she be able to feel it when they killed him? Would a cold, dark place open up inside her? Maybe they’d already done it. Maybe he was already dead.
She looked up at the Unseelie Court rising across the square. Around her, revelers gave her a wide berth as they sang Yuletide carols. They downed mugs of warm cider and toasted one another with Wassail bowls, yelling in the traditional Old Norse, “Ves heill!” Be well and be in good health.
Bella dry-heaved in the snow.
She would never again step foot in the Rose Tower. She could never look upon the queen’s face again and not want to give in to the dark impulse within to curse her. Maybe she would give in to the dark pull of the Unseelie Court. It was time to put her fear aside and start a new life.
Someone touched her shoulder and Bella looked up to see Aislinn. The entire square had fallen completely silent. All the fae stared at someone standing behind Bella.
Taking Aislinn’s offered hand, Bella stood and turned.
The queen stood in the square, backlit by the light spilling through the open doors of the Seelie Court and dressed in a thick white fur coat, the hem trailing in the snow. No red spray of blood marred its perfection. Hurray for small favors.
“It’s Yuletide Eve,” she said. It was quiet enough to hear the snow fall. Not even a murmur could be heard from the Unseelie side. “Therefore I’ve given you a gift.”
That was when she noticed Ronan standing to the left of the queen, hidden in the shadow of her glow. Bella’s heart stuttered and then started again, beating twice as fast. She took a step toward him, but something in the way the queen stood made her halt. The queen seemed like a raptor ready to strike—one false move and she’d sink her fangs in deep.
“Happy Yuletide to you both, but it’s not all sunshine.” The queen drew a breath. When she spoke next, it was loud enough for everyone around them to hear, including the Faemous film crew. “Bella Rhiannon Caliste Mac Lyr and Ronan Achaius Quinn are hereby banished from the Seelie Court, effective immediately.” She turned and walked back into the tower, a brace of guards following her.
The doors shut behind her with a final-sounding thump.
Bella ran to Ronan and threw her arms around him, concerned only with one thing—he was alive, warm and real in her embrace.
Ronan pulled her up against his chest and slanted his lips over hers. His tongue slipped within her mouth and heated her blood, making her forget the snow and cold, making her forget all the other celebrating fae in the square who looked on in curiosity.
When they broke the kiss, she drew a trembling breath. A look of sorrow had enveloped his face. “Because of me you’re banished from Seelie. You’ve lost everything. It’s exactly the thing I was trying to prevent all those years ago.”
“Oh, Ronan.” She reached up and cupped his cheek. “No. Don’t you see? I have everything because I have you.”
“Even if we have nowhere to sleep tonight?”
“We’ll figure it out. We’re together now and we can overcome any obstacle in our path. Why did she let you live?”
