Chapter Thirty
Morgan
I can’t see the power, but I feel it. It’s in every inch of my body—trembling beneath my skin, in my muscles. Everything changed the instant Bunny entered me. No, everything changed with that first kiss from Clinton months ago. That simple touch cumulated in this event. My body hums in awakening. Not just physically but mentally as well.
Bunny lies next to me, his cheeks red. His copper eyes are clear and I lay a hand on his chest, feeling the heartbeat inside.
I understand now. His motives. His fears. His loyalty.
“I forgive you,” I say to him.
“I’ll earn that forgiveness for the rest of our lifetimes.” His fingers graze the underside of my breast and a pool of heat gathers below my belly. There is no ache left in me, not after the explosive orgasm we just shared, but my body crackles and sparks with renewed desire.
I lean over to kiss him. It’s a kiss of forgiveness. A promise.
“They’re coming,” he says. Our noses are inches apart. “They’re in the tunnels.”
“I feel them.”
“They felt us,” he replies.
I open my mouth to tell him about my command; that they bring me an army, but a wave of chimes sounds from outside the cottage. There’s no mistaking. It’s time.
He kisses me where he marked me days ago and the rune ignites.
“Will that help?”
He shakes his head and slips his glasses on. “You don’t need my protection anymore. You’re strong and ready.” He touches the spot. “That’s for me. For you to remember who you belong to.”
I look down and see the outline isn’t the symbol from before but a darker brand.
Five flying ravens.
*
The white gown clings to the curves of my body like a second skin. I’ve seen the design before, it’s identical to the style the Morrigan prefers. It’s no surprise when I enter the enclosed field behind the castle that Anita is wearing the same one.
It’s dark, but the stone walkway leads to a paved area in the middle of green grass surrounded by flaming torches. Moonlight filters through the rooftop. The ceremony begins at midnight and we wait in a hidden area away from the crowd. Soldiers are positioned three feet apart. They’re everywhere. I strain my ears and search my heart for any signal of my guardians. I find nothing but the steady beat of my own pulse.
“I spent the afternoon reading books from the Queen’s library,” Anita says. Her face looks fresh, but I also see a bit of tiredness in her eyes. Her human vessel is feeling the strain of the Morrigan’s presence. I’ve had my guardians to help carry the weight of the Darkness. “I couldn’t sleep. Too excited, you know?”
“This is really what you want?” I ask her. She had a life. A family.
“More than anything.” She gives me a curious look. “I know you’ve been brainwashed by those roommates of yours to fight against this, but you have no idea what awaits on the other side.”
Heavy footsteps echo off the ground. I look toward the castle and see Casteel walking down the center path. He’s escorting the Morrigan personally. She glides across the stones toward the small platform in the middle of the field. The audience, I’m assuming the most loyal of her court, watches in silence as she takes her place. Her dress is black, made of a shiny, tight fabric that looks like wet paint. Her hair is back and she wears a headdress made of glossy feathers. A crown of glittering black jewels sits on top.
There’s no sense of betrayal on Casteel’s face. Nothing but stone-cold loyalty. The priest from earlier in the day steps on the platform and nods at the Morrigan.
It’s time.
My Guardians are not here.
The priest says something in a language I do not understand, but a wide smile appears on Anita’s lips. There’s a nudge at my back. The blonde woman next to me links her arm with mine and we leave our spot in the shadows and enter the ring of fire. At the edge of the platform Anita leans in and whispers, “I forgive you for what you did to me back home. Today we start new. As one. I’m thankful you’re my sister.”
The priest doesn’t smile when he sees us. Neither does the Morrigan. Her eyes are closed as if in prayer. With the help of assistants, we take our positions, each on the side of the Queen. I feel the Darkness ebbing off of her but it’s different. It’s like the energy bounces off. I have a shield of protection.
“We shall now begin the ceremony,” the priest says, now in English. Or maybe, I think, watching his lips, I can just understand what he’s saying? The shape of his mouth doesn’t match the words and they echo in my head.
“At the beginning of time, a child of the gods was born, blessed with three souls. Macha, Nemain, and Anand. These three cultivated and protected land and agriculture, fertility, and the art of war. Together they were equals. United, they held magnificent power. Betrayal and deceit split them apart and only one remained to protect and fortify these lands.” Every eye watches the priest as he spins his tale.
“Anand, the goddess of war, has ruled the Otherside since that time. But her true glory is to leave this realm and conquer others. And to do that she must unite again with her sisters.”
At the back of the circle is a flat stone table, or altar, and the priest turns toward it. “We start with a sacrifice of one of the gods’ chosen. His blood will act as a conduit to bring these three together.”
A sacrifice? Seriously, where is Dylan? Clinton? Right about now would be a good time to come in and shut this nightmare down. But there is no cavalry. No heroic entrance, just the sound of a man being dragged from the back of the gardens toward the altar.
It’s Anita’s gasp followed by a gleeful laugh that forces me to look up at the man gagged at the mouth and bound at the ankles. I stare into those deep copper eyes and choke back on my emotions.
The Queen plans to sacrifice Bunny.