Chapter 42
Zadriel
The Mother Tree’s boughs swayed as Zadriel neared, something glittering on their surface, golden hues poking through swaths of aging ash. They reached for him, branches dipping low. Delicate, gilded buds brushing against his skin.
Zadriel stared up in awe, midnight eyes glittering. There was an ethereal glow in the air, like a thin veil of delicate gossamer draped over the meadow. As it once was. As it was meant to be.
Leaves rustled behind him, and Zadriel spun. “Little Witch?”
He was met with blinding azure, Cillian swathed in shadows near the trees at the meadow's edge. “Guess again, brother.”
“Cillian...”
Grass tickled his ankles as he ran to him, too many thoughts spinning in his mind. This was a dream, yet there was much Zadriel wished to say.
“Is this how you honor me?” Those bright eyes gleamed with violence.
Zadriel slowed, shaking his head. “You know I regret what happened.”
“What I know,” Cillian muttered, each word rippling with unbridled rage, “is you hold my woman night after night.” He stepped out from the darkness, strands of moonlight tumbling through the Forest’s canopy to flicker over his severe face.
“Brother...” A pressure built in Zadriel’s chest, power rising to the surface like a beast prowling among the trees. It was stronger here. More alive. Yearning to be set free. “She was never yours.”
“You can’t have her,” Cillian spat, stepping closer until the wall of thorny bramble shook, rising to meet him. Their sharp thorns glinting under the careful watch of a full moon. Arcadia wouldn’t allow him here. Or was it Zadriel who was unwilling to see him in this meadow after what they’d done?
“No, Cillian, I can’t.” His jaw tightened, but he pushed against the instinct to bare his teeth. A quiet shudder shook his breath, the rumble of the power lurking within him nearly too much to hold back. “That doesn’t change the fact that she’s mine.”
Cillian scoffed, his focus fixing on the bramble’s sharp barbs.
“You Fae bind yourselves together in blood, sealing the Fates’ will.
It’s clever, really. Inspiring.” Clutching a thorny branch, he squeezed until crimson seeped through his fingers.
“One little drop can change everything.” A sinister smile played on his lips.
“I’ve embedded myself in her soul, Zadriel; what you think you have—what the Fates decided to weave—is nothing compared to what I’ve done.
There is no destiny greater than the one I am owed. ”
Zadriel ground his teeth, something stilling within him. “You’re dead,” he muttered coldly, the words devoid of the grief he’d carried since Cillian’s thread was torn from his soul.
His brother merely shrugged. “An inconvenience I intend to overcome.” He exhaled slowly, staring at the mess he’d made of his palm.
“I can’t say I’m not disappointed in my Treasure for what she’s done, but I prepared for every eventuality.
” His fingers curled into a tight fist, his furious stare snapping back to Zadriel’s face.
“Except one. You betray me nightly, calling her here, leading her spirit away.”
Wild obsidian eyes raked over Cillian, flecks of glittering gold glowing in their depths. “I will do whatever I wish with her in my dreams.”
A quiet, exasperated laugh danced between them. “I forget how little you know, though I assumed your Fae instincts would be enough to educate you. This realm is—”
Cillian’s voice was snuffed out. The meadow faded, oblivion imploding as Zadriel was pulled violently from his sleep.