Page 39 of Straw and Gold (A Realm of Revelry #2)

Killian

Somewhere, a man screamed. Somewhere, a man fell, catching his love in his arms as blood trickled from her body. So much blood.

That man could not be me.

I’d done this before, I could not do it again.

Not with her.

Anyone but her.

The Changlingfae Goddess known as Céad, knelt, sweeping the hair from Morella’s face as she tilted her head—that same maddening smile I’d seen before gracing her face.

“Save her,” I seethed in Céaduah, gripping tightly to my lover’s skin as her breath sputtered and blood dripped from her lips.

“I needed an heir, Morelliór,” she cooed in her language—in that same singsong voice that had haunted me for years.

I watched in fear as Céad’s aura pulsed, fading in and out as Morella’s eyes dimmed. “SAVE HER!” I bellowed, reaching for the Goddess and meeting only a wisp of air.

Her form faded more, bits of her skin floating away in the shifting breeze.

She couldn’t go.

She couldn’t just leave.

She’d harmed the child of another Goddess and that fate was the final death.

But she couldn’t just take Morella from me now. I gritted my teeth in panic, pulling Morella to my chest, sobs wracking my body.

“You need not beg me to save your lover this time, Morelliór,” she called, half of her body leaving in golden flecks of dust. “She accepts the power to save herself. You have found one worthy.”

I shook my head, my chest heaving with rocking cries, unable to save my love, even with my power fully returned.

The last of Céad drifted, leaving the cliffside as if she’d only ever been a spirit upon the wind.

No, no, no, no, no.

I laid Morella gently onto the rocky earth, someone’s hands—my hands—pulling the knife from her chest and pressing on the spill of blood from her wound, pouring every last ounce of power I may yet yield into her skin.

But I was not gifted with the magic that could heal.

And Morella’s eyes were already closed.

And I could not save her.

I brought her to my chest again, falling back and pressing her face against my skin, heaving in the sorrowful sound of a man who would not survive such a blow.

The tears that left my eyes blurred my vision as I stared at her brilliant golden wings—each feather a soft glimmer in the morning light of dawn.

Each golden feather.

Solid gold.

I gasped at the sight, that bastard I called hope slicing through my chest as Céad’s words echoed in my head.

You have found one worthy.

The stream of power that radiated around Morella’s body gathered above her open wound, closing her clean-cut skin, reversing the damage done by the Goddess of the Changelingfae.

Her body rose from my arms, floating above the blood stained ground as her wings of pure gold hummed, beating stronger, faster.

That thin line of shimmering power grew around her, encasing her body like a shell.

She spun in midair and all I could do was stare, mesmerized, allowing myself to feel that hope she’d given me months ago in a western tower as she’d shown me her true heritage as Changelingfae.

I’d known then that she was the best chance I’d ever had to find the one person who could discover what was hidden from the world.

You have found one worthy.

Céad had been right there all along. Watching the castle. Watching me.

“Morella,” I whispered, on my knees, ready to beg for her to stop, to return wholly to me. “Morella, please.”

Her spinning halted suddenly and she fell to the ground in a heap of gold feathers and crimson silk. I rushed to her, but before I could touch her skin, her wings flared in a blinding light as the sun reflected off each golden barb.

She slowly sat upright, turning to me with eyes shining brilliant as the sun.

I cast my gaze downward, shielding my eyes. “Morella?” I called, reaching out for her to take my hand.

Warm fingers I knew threaded through mine, and a fierce cry left my chest as I pulled and pulled, bringing her to me, cradling her head in my hands. Her glowing aura of gold dimmed and I pulled her face back to see that she was alive and well.

Better than well.

Her glowing eyes returned to the ones I’d memorized and she blinked up at me. “I think I died,” she whispered, all traces of the blood on her lips gone.

“How do you feel?”

She sat back, staring down at her chest and sweeping a hand over her mended skin. “Powerful.”

I laughed, pulling on her hips to straddle my waist. “Do you know what happened to you, Moh Dhóches?”

She nodded, looking over my shoulder to the glistening cliffs. “Alista—I mean…Céad needed an heir. I’d proven myself worthy and so…she hurt me. She hurt me to destroy herself. But her power…”

I gulped, nodding and finishing for her. “Her power transferred to her chosen heir.” I grinned. “You, Morella.” I swept a hand through her hair. “ You are now the Goddess of the Changelingfae.”

Her hands drifted over my skin. “Morella, Goddess of the Changlingfae, daughter of the Ravenfae Goddess, sister of the Cursebringer, wife of…of…” she laughed lightly, the sound lifting my heart, making me feel as if I could soar above the clouds as she could.

“What do I call you now that I know all of your names?”

I shook my head, huffing a laugh. “I don’t fucking care.” I pulled her closer, refusing to relinquish my grip. “As long as one of them is ‘husband’.”