Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
“He regrets what happened, you know?”
Lorcan slowly faced her. “Does he?”
“Yes.”
“There is no amount of redemption that can satisfy what he has done to my family and my people.”
“And this is better?” she asked, gesturing between them. “Stealing what is his and trying to destroy his life?”
“If it destroys his life, we call that justice.”
She huffed and turned away from him. “Fine. Have it your way.” She leaned forward to come to her feet, but Lorcan put a hand on her knee.
“Do you know the tale of the Sons of Tuireann?”
“I don’t think so. What does that have to do with anything?”
“It’s an old Irish tale. The three sons killed Lugh’s father, Cian, because they had a disagreement.”
“Lugh…like the owner of my spear?”
“The one indeed,” he said. “He was a great king of the Tuatha de Danann, and after his father died, he went to a meeting with many of the leaders of the realm and asked, ‘What would you do if someone killed your father?’ The leaders of course said death was not enough. They would torture and tear them limb by limb over many days.”
“Classic.”
“They asked Lugh, ‘Did someone kill your father?’ He answered yes, and the ones who did it came forward and offered to pay a fine for what they’d done. Lugh set a series of tasks that seemed like a good offer, and the sons agreed before everyone. Then Lugh admitted that the items he wanted were all impossible tasks taken from all the great kings of the age, ending with three shouts on the top of a hill where shouting was not allowed, where his father had been raised, and the men would kill them before allowing them to leave.”
Kierse laughed. “This sounds like a hustle.”
“The sons were determined, though. They went out, and they performed each of the impossible tasks, giving Lugh great tools of bounty and healing and war for his upcoming battle. At the end, they went to make their shouts and were all grievously injured. They went to Lugh and said, ‘Use your pigskin to heal us. We did all you asked of us.’”
“And did he?”
Lorcan raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”
“No,” she said softly. “No, I bet he said no. He wanted them to die doing the impossible tasks.”
“Correct,” Lorcan said. “He told them no. He said, ‘Even if you offered me the world’s weight in gold, I would not accept it unless it also meant you were going to die.’”
“Savage,” she said. “So the moral of the story is fuck off and die?”
“The moral is that there is no amount of redemption that can be done to make up for someone killing your family.”
Kierse nodded in understanding. This was not just another Irish tale. Not just some story for the moment. It was about him, and it was about Graves. And always about Emilie.
“I see. Thus, fuck off and die.”
“We do not have the heritage of forgiveness that is pervasive of the world. Your actions are your actions. You cannot change them after the fact. There is no righting this wrong. You cannot bring my sister back. There is only—fuck off and die.”
And Kierse hated that she understood him.
The Fae Killer killed her parents and her entire race. She couldn’t imagine ever looking that person in the face and forgiving them for what they had done. She could hold a grudge for even minor slights. The idea that time could possibly diminish the loss of this magnitude was unthinkable.
But on the other hand, anger welled up in her like she had never imagined. “I understand that you’ll never forgive Graves for what he did.” Lorcan’s eyes lit up as if they were finally getting somewhere. How wrong he was. “How do you then expect me to forgive you for the transgression you’ve done against me?”
“I didn’t kill anyone in your life,” Lorcan said, his smile slowly fading.
Kierse came fully to her feet. “No. You didn’t kill anyone, but what you did was just as dishonorable.”
“We’re soulmates,” he said, rising to his feet and his own anger rising with him. “We’re soulmates. You’re my chuisle mo chroí. We’re meant to be together. It’s a way to make everything else right in the world.”
“Maybe all of that is true. Maybe we’re meant to be. But it gives you no right to deny me my power, the last power of the last of the Fae.” She held her hands out. “This is all I have left of them. This is what connects me to my family.”
He winced at that. She wanted to argue more. She wanted to throw a punch and get in his face and yell and scream. She wanted to voice all her injustices against him. But where had that gotten her with Lorcan? Nowhere.
He knew that how he bound their magic was wrong, but he didn’t think being bound was the problem. And if she wanted to get under that bond, she was going to have to convince him that she could understand that.