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She hummed and Arianna entwined her fingers in his hair and lost herself in his embrace. She’d never order him away. Because Rion was hers and she was never letting go.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Talon

Talon marched through the city with his bound captive dragging behind. Five of his best warriors surrounded the bruised and bloody male, snapping their teeth and growling whenever he tried to resist.

A male from Fiadh.

But it wasn’t the male that had his undivided attention. It was the hum in the air, the hearts that beat just a little faster, and the excitement coursing through their bodies.

Talon studied the Fae in passing, inclining his head to listen.

They spoke of an execution. A demon in their midst. And a legend.

He bowed his head, trying to hide the smile that crept across his face. Talon didn’t know what she’d done, but Arianna had taken matters into her own hands. He figured she would. After all, despite what she said, he knew she loved the male. No matter how much he hated it.

Talon was sure Avalon would be in a rage when he arrived, though once he discovered the secrets Talon had pried from his captive, Avalon might change his mind about Brónach’s demon. Because just as The Demon had claimed, he wasn’t the one responsible for Lillian’s death.

But that didn’t excuse him from the others. Even if she was The Divine, Arianna was going to have a hard time convincing the Fae of Alastríona that she’d tamed The Demon.

He continued walking, scenting the air for the male he’d almost killed. Talon wasn’t sure Avalon would let the creature walk down their streets or even let him stay in the capital city. But what choice would he have? If Talon knew Arianna as well as he thought he did, she would give her father an ultimatum. And if Avalon denied her request, she’d leave and Móirín would lose their hold on The Divine. Or the illusion of a hold.

He ascended the stone stairs, his captive tripping as he struggled to keep his balance. The guards stationed outside the gate didn’t stop him this time. And despite usually knocking, Talon marched straight through the main doors and into Avalon’s office to find his High Lord pacing the floor, surrounded by his council.

He remembered his manners enough to bow.

“Where have you been?” Avalon growled.

Talon yanked on the iron chain and forced the Fiadh male to his knees. “This one tells me interesting stories.”

Avalon grabbed the front of Talon’s tunic. “I don’t care about stories.”

Talon kept his gaze locked with The High Lord’s. “You’ll care about this one.”

Before Arianna, he would have backed down. Knelt even. He had never dared to challenge the High Lord of Móirín. Until now.

Avalon studied his changed demeanor and let him go, shifting his gaze to the male kneeling on his floor.

The male’s wrists bled from the metal biting into his skin. Deep cuts were still healing all over his body and he still had a black eye from spitting at one of them that morning. Talon hadn’t tolerated it well.

Avalon clenched his teeth. “That Demon Arianna is protecting—”

“Isn’t the one who killed your mate,” Talon finished. Avalon’s lips parted, and Talon yanked on the chain. “The shadows are gathering. I hope you’re prepared for another war.”

***