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Story: Destined Desires

He moved the only part of him he still held control over. His eyes. Moved his eyes frantically from Moira to the guardstoo close behind them. Moved his eyes from Liam to the danger raising hands at his back. Moved his eyes from Horano to the dagger lifting in preparation of coming down in his back.

“’Tis a beautiful sight, aye?” Daeanna whispered against his ear, her tongue tracing the shell. “Imagine what you and I could have achieved had you been more willing to bow to me. Now, you shall watch what will happen to all mixed-blood Fae once I dispose ofyou. No one shall save them.”

Desperation reared inside his chest, his mind. Moira pounded on the ice wall, her face flushed from yelling, her hair and clothes hanging wet around her.

Turn. Around. Turn! Now!

’Twas Liam who grew still. Liam who cocked his head to the side, almost imperceptibly.

Liam who spun around, flinging out a long sheet of magic a millisecond before Shaye saw the lead guard start to lower his raised hand in a silent command to attack.

The doors to the throne room burst off the hinges, cartwheeling through the air until they crashed and skidded across the floor.

The Seelie Council, those who remained by his side in the absence of Dagda, rushed the guards, magic and weapons honed in on the enemies. Thierry, Rihanna, and Bryce engaged three of the four guards who held Chase and two of his cousins’ children hostage. Diaro had managed to escape his captor and joined the line of High Fae in their battle, even as the Councilmen tried to corral him behind the safety of their line.

“Nay!” Daeanna shrieked, spinning Shaye away from the engagement to face her reddened cheeks and sun-bright eyes. Smoky ribbons curled about her hands and wrists as she paced the floor, snapping outward like whips.

She spun on Shaye, arms crossed over her chest. “You! ’Tis always you! I’ll show you once and for all you shall never best me!”

The ice exploded away from his body. He stumbled backward. He had no time to gather his magic. No time to prepare for her cutting attack. An attack that would kill him where he stood.

Moira. Chase. Terrek.

They’d all watch him fall.

Goddess, please!

Daeanna swung her arms forward with a piercing scream.

White light blinded him, knocking him flat on his back. He threw up his arms, protecting his eyes as frigid air rushed over his body.

A crash echoed in his ears.

The howls and commands of the battle in the main hall infiltrated the ice wall for a mere moment before all grew silent.

All except for the trickle of water.

And the gasping breaths from one who choked on fluid.

Slowly, Shaye opened his eyes.

The light faded, drawn back to its source.

Dagda lowered to his knees, bringing Daeanna to the floor as she struggled to breathe. Blood trickled from the corners of her mouth, her eyes wide in disbelief as she stared blankly ahead of her. She grappled for Dagda’s wrist, his hand, a hand that held tight to the jeweled hilt of a dagger buried deep in her chest. Her body jerked, blood soaking through the gauzy material of her gown, spreading across the front.

The golden glow around her began to fade. Her hair turned limp and dull as longer stretches of time followed the gurgling gasp for air.

Shaye pushed himself off the floor, but remained seated until Moira crawled to him, both boys tucked beneath one arm as she shielded Chase from the traumatic sight. Shaye wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight, providing her with support as he pressed his mouth to the top of her head.

“Don’t look, my love.”

She didn’t argue, hiding her face in his chest.

“Close your eyes and leave this tormented life behind, daughter. I’ve given you everything a father could, yet somewhere along the line, your path turned away from what we stand for as Tuatha dé Danann. You’ve brought too much pain to Faekind, and too much death and bloodshed. ’Tis time you rest. I can only pray the Goddess shall accept you after all you’ve done,” Dagda said, his voice strained. ’Twas no declaration meant to be heard by all, but words spoken from a father to his tortured daughter. “I take your pain, my daughter. May you be at peace.”

Twitches continued to wrack Daeanna’s body, but her hands loosened around Dagda’s hand and wrist. Her breaths turned shallow, shorter.

Shaye watched, sympathy for Dagda tightening his lungs and leaving a deep-set ache in his heart. Daeanna’s lashes fluttered, her lips moving soundlessly.