Heart of the Fae (The Otherworld #1)(104)

She sighed and pressed her lips against his collarbone. “You can’t force people to accept change. And as much as I love this place, the faeries, this world you’ve shown me, I have to go back.”

“Why? To save the small amount of people who care for you?”

“It’s not just about my family, but everyone. The blood beetle plague is horrific, and I will not allow it to spread any further.”

“And they promised to give you a cure, if you brought me back,” he grunted. “They twisted the truth, Sorcha. They’ll send you on another impossible quest as soon as we return to your land. And another after that. Faeries, especially the MacNara twins, cannot be trusted.”

She rose onto an elbow, searching his gaze for the truth of his words. “You don’t think they have the cure.”

“I think they know of the cure, but they have been trying to meet with me for centuries. They toy with their puppets, force them to dance, and they do not care whether they snap the strings.”

“I will break those strings,” Sorcha growled. “How am I to save my people?”

“I don’t know.” He lifted a hand and tucked her wild hair behind her ear. “I don’t know if it’s even possible for you to save them. Plagues come and go, but humanity always survives them.”

“People are in pain. I can’t stay knowing that they’re suffering and I might help.”

“You have too large a heart for your body,” he murmured.

She caught the hand he pressed against her chest, holding it tight enough that the crystals pricked her skin. “I can’t, Eamonn. They’re my family, my people, I can’t let them live a life they don’t deserve.”

“Every time you open your mouth, it’s as if you are plucking words from my soul. Promise to stay here, and I will return to your world with you. I will help you in your journey to find the cure for your people.”

“You will?” Sorcha hadn’t thought he would so readily agree. “Staying here is the easiest choice I have ever had to make. I will remain by your side gladly.”

“It stings that I have to bribe you to remain here.”

She had heard the words before. Men said to them to her sisters every day of the week. They paid women for favors and hoped that they loved them in return. Sorcha knew none of her sisters loved those men, but the way her heart hurt when she saw Eamonn told her this was a different situation.

Laying back down, Sorcha tucked her head into the hollow of his throat and breathed in his earthy scent. “I stay because I choose to, not because you have agreed to save my people with me. You spared me the difficulty of deciding between you and my people. For that, I thank you.”

He hesitantly wrapped his arms back around her. He pulled her closer to him until she couldn’t tell where he began and where she ended. “No one should have to choose between their people and those they love.”

“Speaking from experience?” She knew he was. She had seen the place he had grown up, the glistening palace walls and the silk draperies. His people needed him, missed him, desired to have a king worthy of their affection. Even the royals, Elva came to mind, wanted him to return.

“Yes.”

Someday she would convince him to go back to Seelie. She would convince him to take his stolen throne, to place a crown atop his head, and become the man she saw inside him. His people would rejoice and cheer out his name.

But not until she saved her people. Only then would she convince the Seelie prince to return. Perhaps it was selfish, and likely the wrong choice, but Sorcha couldn’t bear it any longer. Her people needed her. The guilt tore at her soul and their imagined screams of pain ate at her mind. This place, although beautiful, was not hers. She would willingly give up her old life if she knew that her family and people were happy.

Closing her eyes, she snuggled closer to his heat and resolved herself to sleep. He pressed a kiss against her head. She stayed awake until his breathing evened into the steady rhythm of dreams.



Sorcha rolled onto her side and reached for Eamonn. She hadn’t slept well—a new bed was always difficult the first night. She kept rolling over to find him, worried that he might disappear into the night.

The Wild Hunt was afoot, and she feared he would be taken by Cernunnos and his bride.

Her fingers smoothed over the empty bed, sheets cold from the absence of his body. The spike of fear made her breath catch in her throat. Where was he?

It couldn’t be the Wild Hunt. Moonlight filtered through the windows, mocking her thoughts. Surely no other Tuatha dé Danann would take him from this prison?

Mind catching up to the fear, Sorcha sat up and dragged her fingers through the tangled mass of her hair. She was thinking irrationally. This was the place they banished people. No one would remove them.

She took a took breath and forced her muscles to relax. She focused on the tips of her toes, willing relaxation to travel from the ends of her feet all the way up her body. Once her muscles released their tension, she felt significantly better.

There was still no answer to what had happened to Eamonn. Where he was, she reminded herself, was the actual question. Perhaps he had gone to clean himself.

She couldn’t imagine why. A grin spread across her features in the twilight. He had proven himself quite a worthy man.

Her body ached in places she hadn’t realized she had. Each throb of muscle and quake of limb reminded her that she had been well and truly claimed, and that she had laid claim to him as well.