House of Pounding Hearts (The Kingdom of Crows #2)(132)

Connor blinks, then shakes his head. “No. Cathal would not be pleased that Reid gift love stone to his mate.”

“A love stone?”

“That’s what he call it. He make it for the people he love.”

I gape at him.

“What?”

A shiver shoots up my spine. “When I said mother, I meant—I meant my Faerie mother. Agrippina?”

“Fallon?” Bronwen’s voice cuts through my frothing thoughts.

“I’ll be right there.” My voice is as thin as a tidemark, but since Bronwen is Fae, I’ve no doubt she hears me loud and clear. “Did Reid once give a love stone to Agrippina?”

Connor’s lips thin. “Ask my son.”

Except he’s not here and I need to know. “Please tell me.”

Connor glances toward the window, and although he doesn’t have a direct view of Shabbe, I sense that’s the direction of his gaze. “Tà,” he finally murmurs, unraveling one of the many mysteries of my existence.

No wonder Reid loathes me. I destroyed both the mind and body of the woman he loved.





Sixty-Four





“Your tea has gone cold.” Bronwen pushes it toward where I sit, spine stiff, mind devoured by guilt.

“Did you know about Agrippina and Reid, Bronwen?”

“I know everything.”

Anger rips through my reverie. “Then why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“You never asked.”

I blink at her, then blink at the milky tea in the earthen mug. She’s right. I never did ask. Foolish me.

When I don’t seize the cup, she says, “Drink.”

“I’d prefer coffee.”

“Tea is better for your digestive system.”

My eyebrows bend. “Perhaps, but I favor—”

“Fallon, don’t offend me.”

I grind my teeth together. This woman can be so infuriating. I seize the cup and drink the whole thing down to please her. It tastes foul, like a sweetened puddle of dirt with a dash of rot, like— I fling my gaze off the empty mug and onto her white eyes. “It’s to keep my womb bare, isn’t it?”

Without missing a beat, she says, “Yes.”

My anger takes on a whole new dimension. “You could’ve asked whether I wanted to poison my insides.”

“Now isn’t the time to bring a child into the world.”

Although I agree with her, I’m still annoyed. That Nonna did it to save me from birthing a bastard child was one thing, but Lore is my mate. This should be our decision. Not Bronwen’s.

“I’ve seen your future, Fallon. You will bear three babes. Eventually.”

“Eventually being after I murder Dante?” I mutter.

The sun reflects in her milky eyes. “Yes.”

“Do you hate me, Bronwen?”

“The only people I’ve ever hated were my father and Meriam. I’m indifferent to most everyone else and love few.”

Oddly enough, after the wash of anger, it’s pity that I feel. Pity that her father’s flame penetrated her rib cage and charred her heart.

My stomach spasms. Gods, I’m not sure I’ll be able to wait for Syb to get here. I am ravenous. So much so that I feel somewhat queasy. And hot. Very hot. I untie the ribbon around my neck to allow more cool air to touch my skin.

Worry slams into me because Nonna’s drink hadn’t made my veins feel ablaze. “What have you given me?”

“Lazarus made the infusion. You may be having an allergic reaction. It’ll pass.”

“Are you trying to poison me?”

“Don’t be daft, Fallon. You’re the reason my mate is home. You’re the reason the Crows have risen. You’re the key to breaking Lore’s curse. Here. Hand me your cup.”

Still not entirely reassured, I give it to her. “It’s empty.”

She sticks her fingers inside to scoop up the renegade droplets, then sticks them in her mouth and sucks. “See?”

“That you haven’t dropped dead, yes. Then again you had a sip and I had an entire cup.”

“Poison is poison. A droplet and one’s dead. Once you eat, you’ll feel better.” She pushes a basket of bread my way. When I don’t pinch a roll out, she sighs and reaches for my hand as though sensing exactly where it lies. “Fallon, I know I’m not the aunt of your dreams.”

She can say that again.

“But I respect and love both Lore and Cathal like brothers. I would never harm you because it would harm them.”

Even though my stomach squirms and my body temperature still rises, I relent and select a dark, miniature loaf, which I wolf down. As promised, I start to feel better.

“Will you return your, um, gift after all this is done?”

Bronwen’s mouth eases into a ghost of a smile. “Yes. I will shed both the cloak upon my eyes and skin to be reborn anew in the Cauldron. With wings this time.”

My heart hiccups. “The Cauldron can really do that?”

“The Cauldron gave life to every being on this Earth, Fallon.”

A rush of floral fragrance hits my nose as Sybille, black spirals tamed into sleek waves that brush her shoulders, sinks onto the bench beside me. “Hello, Bronwen.”