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Kierse tried to yank her hands back, but it was like trying to move a mountain.

His power wrapped around her wrists. She couldn’t break through his magic.

Not today. Not when he was at his most powerful.

Just as Graves had been the night they stole the spear.

Lorcan had his robin as a power booster like Graves had his wren.

The summer solstice was upon them. Even if she had been at her strongest, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to get free.

So she needed to try to reach the sensible man he impersonated.

“What happened to letting me make my own decision?”

“You’ve proven susceptible to corruption,” Lorcan said.

“What about having all the time in the world to let me come around?”

His expression didn’t change as he met her gaze. “I would have waited until the end of time, but I will not sit by and let him destroy you the way he did Emilie.”

The doors opened at some unseen command.

In walked Niamh in traditional Druid robes.

Her burgundy hair long and flowing. Her expression troubled.

Behind her came a cadre of Druids in green robes belted at the waist. Declan led the Order into the room, taking up spots inside as if they’d all prepared for this moment.

Declan stopped at Lorcan’s side. He sneered at her as if he thought this was what she deserved.

“In position, sir,” Declan said, nodding to Lorcan.

“Is she ready?” Niamh asked.

“Yes,” Lorcan said at the same time Kierse said, “No!”

Lorcan dragged Kierse toward the center of the room. “It’s as we thought. He got to her.”

Niamh bit her lip as she and Declan followed them. The swagger was gone from her step, and she looked between Kierse and Lorcan as if she didn’t have a clue in the world what to do.

“Why are you helping him?” Kierse demanded of Niamh. “You told me in Dublin that he wasn’t really in charge. You said he didn’t have power over you. You don’t have to do this.”

Niamh wavered. “He’s in charge here,” she said with a sigh. “And he’s right anyway. I’ve been worried about you.”

“Worrying about me and kidnapping me are sort of different extremes.”

“I know. If we could have done this any other way, we would have,” Niamh promised her.

Niamh removed gold, braided string from her pocket and nodded at Lorcan. He lifted their hands, and Kierse pulled against his magic. She didn’t have any energy. The little she had was like throwing pebbles into the ocean. Little good it did.

“Please don’t,” Kierse whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Niamh said. “I was convinced we wouldn’t have to do this, but Ethan came to us so scared for you.”

Ethan had betrayed her trust, and now they were here. The wound stung. She couldn’t believe he’d done that to her.

“Ethan doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Kierse said. “I’m not corrupted or whatever Lorcan is saying.”

“I know how insidious he is,” Niamh said softly. Her eyes cut to Lorcan, who lifted a brow. “Lorcan isn’t all good, but he’s never done anything like Graves. He’d never hurt you.”

“Believe it or not, this hurts me,” she told them, gesturing to their joined hands.

Niamh hesitated. “Lorcan…”

“The ceremony is an honor,” he said. “It’s sacred.”

“It’s sacred,” Niamh repeated. She began to twine the golden thread around their wrists.

“You might not be in my head,” Kierse said flatly, “but you sure as hell are manipulating the rest of them.”

“This is a handfasting,” Niamh continued as if she hadn’t heard Kierse at all. “It’s a traditional Celtic wedding ceremony but is used symbolically in this ceremony to express the union of two souls.”

“Please,” she pleaded with Lorcan. “Don’t do this.”

“It’ll be better when it’s over.”

The Druids began to chant in an ancient language.

She remembered the small lesson Lorcan had given her on Druidic spells—self, spirit, and sacrifice.

The self was inherent magic of which Lorcan was at the peak of his.

Spirit was time, place, and the cosmos of which today was the summer solstice.

And sacrifice was what was given to power the spell.

Here, it was the chanting and the ribbon tying them together and the promise of a queen to the Oak Throne.

Wind whipped inside the building like they were outside on the day of a hurricane.

Her hair flew around her face, cutting into her eyes and obscuring her vision.

Lorcan stood firm against the squall. The mountain in the storm.

Magic crawled up their bodies, a swirl of gold and blue glittering in the dim lighting.

It started at their joined hands and stretched outward toward her chest. The most beautiful sight she’d ever seen. And the most terrifying.

The chanting increased in volume. Niamh’s words as she read off the spell were lost to the volume of the wind.

Still it continued, eating up inch after inch of her wrist and then her arm and up to her shoulder.

She panicked as it reached for her. She tugged against the bindings, but all it did was tighten the string, pull them closer together.

Still, the magic embraced her body like an old lover.

Warm and inviting. It wanted to lull her into submission. And it felt good.

It would be so easy to give up. To let him win. Because there was that piece inside her that said this was what she was made for.

The last wisp.

The most powerful Druid.

They were destined. And once they were bound together, the world would be set right again.

Except when she looked up into blue eyes, she wished for gray. When she saw his dark brown hair, she was missing the midnight blue. When she saw his navy suit, she wanted the black. She wanted the darkness. She wanted Graves.

“Stop,” she begged.

A tear tracked down her cheek as she yanked on her wrist, pushing against his shoulder with her other hand to try to get away from him. Still it didn’t move. The magic only crept closer, crawling across her chest and down her torso. As if she were being dipped in glowing light.

“Please, Lorcan, put a stop to this.” She tugged some more. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to be bound to anyone. You can’t just take my autonomy.”

“It’s too late,” Lorcan said. “The ceremony has already begun.”

“We can undo it. We can undo it together.”

“What would you do if we did? Run straight back to the problem? No. I’m not going to let you get yourself killed.”

“He’s not going to kill me,” Kierse argued. “But this is worse . Can’t you see that?”

“How could this be worse than what he did?”

“You’re taking away my choice!” she screamed at him.

“He was stealing your mind,” Lorcan roared back. “He was going to push too far and he was going to kill you. Do you want to be dead? Is that better than being with me?”

“This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with your fucked-up power. Your vengeance against him. You don’t want me . You want to win .”

“This isn’t about winning.”

“You don’t even see how far you’ve gone. You act like you’re a good guy. That you’re so far above him. And then you prove time and time again that power is all you want. As long as he doesn’t win, right? As long as you can prove you’re better than him, nothing else matters.”

“You’ve always been determined to see me as the bad guy,” Lorcan said. His eyes narrowed. “Fine. Make me your bad guy. If that saves your life, then so be it.”

And something broke inside of her at those words.

The ceremony had already begun. Her powers were depleted, and his were infinite.

There was no way for her to save herself this time.

She’d gotten lucky time and time again. She’d had the spear against King Louis.

She’d phased to escape Jason. There was no escaping Lorcan.

Not when the universe seemed to want their joining. Her approval mattered little.

There was only one way to stop this: she needed help.

But no one was going to waltz in and save her.

Her friends who had always been at her side were gone.

They’d been concerned about her, talking to others about her behind her back instead of bringing their concerns directly to her.

They probably wanted this. Colette and Nate and Maura could do nothing to stop this.

And Graves…there was no way to get to Graves.

The universe hated her enough to give her a mental connection with Lorcan and not the person that she loved. The technology that had linked them was nothing compared to this mental, emotional communion. Something she could never have with Graves.

It was truly over. She was finished. Lorcan had won.

A tear tracked down her cheek at that debilitating thought.

She was a fighter at heart. She had always prided herself on her own self-reliance.

On the ability to get herself out of sticky situations.

But there was nothing she could do against what Lorcan was doing to her.

Not when she was at her lowest. She would do anything to stop him. But what else did she have?

Her knees buckled, and she nearly collapsed as she hit peak overwhelm.

Lorcan reached for her with his free hand, keeping her on her feet.

He was saying something to her. Some pretentious bullshit about how this was good for her, how it would keep her mind intact.

Her magic was what he really meant. The magic of his wife.

The connection he’d lost nearly a century ago.

Lorcan wanted this. He wanted her to second-guess her friends and family. To second-guess Graves. He wanted her to have only him to turn to.

Maybe Graves was a villain, but if he was, then he was a villain of Lorcan’s making.

All of that shit about Graves infiltrating her mind and breaking it was bullshit. Lies and propaganda about the enemy Lorcan had created that he really believed. It wasn’t the Graves that she knew.

“No,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

“No?” Lorcan asked.

But she didn’t elaborate. Everything was no.