These Twisted Bonds (These Hollow Vows, #2)(69)

I drop to my knees to inspect Two Star’s hooves. Or maybe I just want to put some distance between me and those silver eyes that seem to see right through me. “You liked it here?”

“More than anywhere else. For that reason, Staraelia will always be my home, even though I haven’t been back in a very long time.”

I look up at him. He’s leaning against the stall door, watching me as I work. “Since the curse?” I ask.

“Since Mordeus began to rule.” He tips his head back and closes his eyes. “When my father was locked in the mortal realm, I wasn’t ready to be king, and rather than step up in his absence, I convinced myself that Father would find a way home sooner rather than later. That decision—that hesitation to step up to my responsibilities—it cost my people.” He opens his eyes, but his gaze is distant. “I failed them by staying here when I should’ve gone straight to the palace. I didn’t realize that Mordeus was gathering his followers, his sycophants, those traitors who would do anything my uncle said just for a chance for a little more power, a little more wealth. And by the time I realized what was happening”—he blows out a breath—“it was already a mess.”

“But your father hadn’t passed on his crown to you,” I say, standing. “Would it have mattered if you’d returned to the palace sooner?”

“I didn’t have any more right to the throne than Mordeus did, but I gave him a chance to get a foothold, and that made all the difference. I was so focused on . . .” He grimaces and swallows hard.

“I was so focused on my life here that I couldn’t be bothered to consider what might be happening at the capital.”

His life here? Does he mean with Isabel? I want to ask how he met her, when things changed between them, and why he was willing to sacrifice her for his own power, but I bow my head and finish grooming Two Star.

I return the brush to its basket and wipe my hands on my trousers before leaving the stall.

Finn steps close, right between me and the exit. He takes my chin in his big hand and scans my face. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

I swallow hard. I haven’t been this close to him since we were on the terrace at Castle Craige.

Since he kissed me, and I wanted him to do so much more. Even when he sat next to my bed at the Unseelie palace, there was more room between us. Or maybe I’m just feeling particularly exposed and vulnerable tonight.

I look away, fearing my expression might betray me. “I’ll be fine. Exactly what kind of event is this?”

Dropping my chin, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “It’s a celebration of the bounty of the harvest,” he says. “And everything that represents it.”

“You’re being cryptic.”

The corner of his mouth quirks into a mischievous smirk. “I’m afraid you might take offense if I explain.”

I fold my arms. “Now you have to tell me.”

“We celebrate our females on Lunastal. We celebrate their work in the fields and in the home, but also because”—he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before releasing it—“because females represent fertility—the continuation of our bloodlines.”

“I’m afraid to ask just how you do that,” I say, but my cheeks are hot as my imagination latches onto any number of ways I could celebrate fertility with Finn.

“Maybe it’s better that it’s a surprise,” he says, grinning.

I shove against his chest with a flat palm. “You can’t do that to me! I won’t sleep. I’ll be too worried.”

His gaze dips to my mouth again. “I promise not to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” He winks. “No matter how much I might want to celebrate the way Lugh intended.”



Just as I warned Finn it would be, my mind is too full of thoughts of what might happen tomorrow, and I can’t sleep. I roll over and punch my pillow, but the sound of laughter behind the house drags me from bed and to the window.

Juliana and Finn are seated on the patio, drinking wine. Finn’s smiling at her, and she has her head thrown back as she laughs. Gods, I’m so envious of her—of that smile Finn’s giving her, of her history with him, and—as shallow as it might make me—even of that lush, dark hair cascading down her back.

I’ve never been particularly beautiful, but I was always rather proud of my long red locks. I miss them, if I’m honest. As petty as it is, I kind of wish I could chop Juliana’s hair off to even the playing field. And then, because I’m more sensible than petty, I’d like to keep it for payments to goblins when I need them.

“I’m no better than my catty cousins,” I mutter, shaking my head.

On the patio below, Juliana’s face goes serious and she leans in.

I want to know what she’s saying, and I don’t let myself overthink it before I slip into shadow and head down the stairs.

I creep onto the patio and become one with the shadows. Dara’s and Luna’s heads perk up in unison, looking in my direction from where they lounge in the moonlight, but if they sense my presence, they must not consider me a threat, because they almost immediately lie back down.

“That’s the last of the bottle,” Finn’s saying. He pours the final drops from the bottle into her glass.