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Kierse wasn’t ready. That much she knew.

And since Graves didn’t push, she opted out of more memory work for the time being.

They had enough to deal with planning the heist that the memories could wait.

Or at least that was what she told herself when she went for another performance of Midsummer . And another after that.

By then, Lyra had come around. She was the one who suggested Kierse enter the con with the theater troupe. Kierse acted surprised at her suggestion, as if she hadn’t been banking on it, and then readily agreed. Her entrance was secure.

With that out of the way, she set herself to conquering the decoy. She even consulted Walter on some of the specifics. While he couldn’t break locks, he designed computer systems, and had ideas that she’d never considered. She was sure it would unravel any day now.

And while she might have been avoiding memory work, she couldn’t avoid the triskel training that she’d agreed to.

Tuesday was the full moon, and she and Gen were set to return to Brooklyn.

She was still upset with Lorcan for keeping the binding ceremony from her.

After he’d made it out, time and time again, like he was a good guy.

A fucking savior complex if she’d ever seen one.

Gen kept glancing at her and bouncing her leg as they took the subway into Brooklyn. “Maybe he has a good reason for keeping it from you.”

“Maybe,” Kierse said, meaning no, he doesn’t . “Let’s just get this training over with.”

They hopped off the train and headed down Broadway. Niamh had suggested they meet her and Ethan outside Williamsburgh Savings Bank at dusk. The full moon was tracing an arc across the night sky as they stepped up to the large building.

Declan stood at the entrance. His beefy arms crossed, his eyes trained on her and Gen as they approached. A gun was holstered at his waist.

Kierse sighed heavily. Lorcan’s second had kidnapped her and held her at gunpoint. He’d disrespected Niamh in her presence. To say she wasn’t particularly fond of the man was an understatement.

“Declan,” Kierse said.

He sneered down at her. “You’re late.”

“Lorcan has you on guard duty?” she said with a smirk. “Good dog.”

His glare was ferocious as he took a threatening step toward her.

“Stop instigating him, Kierse,” Gen said, pushing her backward. “It’s good to see you again.”

Declan raised his eyebrows. “Is it?”

“No,” Kierse muttered.

“It is. I know you were just following orders,” Gen said, ever the peacemaker.

The door to the bank opened, and Niamh appeared.

She wasn’t in the school-girl attire she’d worn in Dublin, or the cool business-casual look she’d adopted with the Druids.

Tonight, she was in all-black athletic clothing—flared leggings, a tank top, and sneakers.

She grinned down at the girls. “Having fun with the rabble?”

Declan shot her a glare. “Your guests have arrived.”

Niamh patted him twice on his arm. “Thanks, Dec.” She turned to Gen and Kierse. “Are you excited to get started?”

“I am,” Gen said. She pointed her thumb at Kierse. “She has beef with Lorcan.”

“Don’t we all,” Niamh said with a laugh. “What did he do this time?”

“Yes,” Lorcan asked as he stepped into the doorframe. “What have I done?”

Kierse faltered at the sight of him. She had to physically hold onto her anger like lightning in her chest. Because he, too, was out of his characteristic suit and instead wearing black joggers and a fitted gray T-shirt that stretched across his muscular chest. His dark hair was loose against his forehead, and those piercing blue eyes shot straight through her.

The pulse of their connection was a brand against her sternum.

“You were supposed to wait inside,” Niamh chided him.

Lorcan didn’t even spare her a glance. “And you expected me to listen?”

“He never listens,” Niamh muttered under her breath. “Why don’t you two have it out, and I’ll get Gen and Ethan set up inside?”

Gen nodded vigorously. “Sounds like a plan.”

They darted inside, letting the door fall shut behind them.

Lorcan didn’t even look at Declan while dismissing him. “You’re no longer needed.”

Declan gave him a little salute before wandering off, his eyes continuing to look back at them.

“So, are you going to tell me what I’ve done?”

Kierse ground her teeth together. “The binding ceremony.”

“What about it?”

“You didn’t tell me about it.”

He shrugged. “So?”

“So?” she asked in disbelief. “That’s all you have to say?”

“We don’t have to go through with it anytime soon,” Lorcan said, taking a step down toward her. “It doesn’t change what’s in here.”

He reached out to touch her chest, and she took a step back.

“Anytime soon…isn’t never.”

“No, it’s not.”

“ So , when were you going to tell me?”

“When I thought you might agree to it,” he said simply.

“What if I never agree to it?”

He smiled then. That blinding, happy smile that said he’d never suffered, even though she now knew that he had. “She said the same thing, once.”

Kierse faltered. “Who?”

“Saoirse.”

“Your wife.”

“Saoirse hated me when we first met. It’s almost funny to think about, considering we were married for nearly four hundred years.” His eyes went distant. “But the first time magic flared between us, she told me she’d rather die than be bound to anyone.”

“Wait…” Kierse said as confusion bloomed in her stomach.

“Oh, yes, we were soulmates.” This time when he reached for the place they were connected, she let him touch her. “And you have her magic.”

“I have…Saoirse’s magic?” Her voice cracked as she asked desperately, “How?”

“I don’t know. I knew it the second that I saw you without the spell. This magic between us had already been connected once before, and it was calling back to me.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I thought so as well. I’ve spent the last six months scrounging through everything we had on reincarnation.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. “I am not…reincarnated.”

“You may not be her, but you have her magic. That’s why the bond is so strong. Saoirse needed time to process and come around to the idea.” He spread his arms wide. “All I have is time, Kierse. I’m happy to give you as much as you need to do the same.”

She tried to wade through this new information. Graves had said Lorcan would twist his explanation to make himself the good guy. But fuck, no one could have prepared her for this. She had the magical signature of his dead wife .

And not just that, they had been bound in the past and a triskel. No wonder things were so intense between them. No wonder she could barely escape him every time.

“You don’t have to make any decisions today,” Lorcan promised her. “The Oak Throne will wait.”

He held his hand out for her, his face contemplative and open. Damn him.

“You’re not playing fair.”

“I never said I would,” he said with a smirk.

She put her hand in his. “I’m just here for training.”

“As you say.”

“Not for you.”

His smile widened as he brought her fingers to his lips and pressed a kiss there. “If that’s what you have to think to convince yourself.”

She bit her lip at his audacity and let him draw her inside. Gen, Ethan, and Niamh were standing in a tense circle, waiting for their return. Niamh rolled her eyes at their approach.

“About time,” she said. “We only have one full moon.”

“All good?” Gen asked.

Kierse nodded once, extracting her hand from Lorcan’s. “Yeah. What’s the plan?”

“Lorcan is going to stand over there,” Niamh said, pointing away from them. “I’m in charge.”

Lorcan crossed his arms and refused to move. “I was as much a part of this triskel as you were.”

“Yeah, but I’m in charge.”

“Maybe in Dublin. Not here.”

Kierse would have thought that this little showdown didn’t mean anything. But this was a powerplay, jockeying for position, and the whole thing maybe wasn’t as light as they were playing it.

“It’s fine. He can stay,” Kierse said to defuse the situation.

Niamh sighed tightly. “Fine. Lorcan stays.”

A circle had been drawn in chalk on the bank floor. Niamh directed the trio to stand in spaces around it to form an equilateral triangle. Their positions had been marked for precision.

“The ritual helps to keep everything in balance,” Niamh explained when she directed Kierse onto her spot. “We want to make this as easy as possible. The full moon, the positions on the circle, the connection to the cosmos. It all makes the magic simpler and less draining.”

This part of Druidic work Kierse had never experienced herself. Magic was just something that she had. There were rules to follow for when she was drained, but using it didn’t require all this pomp.

“Ideally, as you get stronger, you won’t need any of this to use your triskel powers. They’re a muscle, and like any other muscle, it takes work to reach that point.”

“We did all right the first time,” Kierse said.

“With my borrowed magic on the winter solstice and under a full moon,” Lorcan reminded her.

Niamh shot him a look but continued, “Yes. You had the Oak King magic inside of you, which made it easier for Ethan and Gen to connect to you. The solstices are the most liminal times of the year. A point when the veil between worlds is at its thinnest. Any of these thresholds make the magic more potent. They enhance what is already there.”

Ethan nodded encouragingly. “When to do a spell is almost more important than what spell you choose.”

“Normally,” Niamh said. “With you three I’m hoping it won’t matter as much, but we’re taking precautions.

” Niamh moved to the position opposite Gen.

“The point of a triskel is combined powers are stronger together. You will be able to do things together that none of you could do alone. Separately, the source of each of your abilities focuses on healing, nature affinity, and absorption, but when you’re together all these will be amplified.

” She looked at Kierse. “Your absorption is key to this link.”

“How so?”