Chapter 49
Maeve stared at the parchment crammed with her tiny words. It lay across a white marble table Esmarelle’s tea shop. Her words all vanished at once and a short reply scrolled across the pale paper.
Where are you?
She had left his ring and locket at Castle Morana when she came to Earth.
His words disappeared as she read them. When she did not reply he wrote her once more.
Do not make me come find you.
She stepped through her Portal and crossed the Entrance Hall of Castle Morana. Larliesl's and Arman’s strength training had paid off. She barely felt a wobble as she closed it behind her.
She stepped into the Throne Room. Roswyn, Arman, and many of the Bellator gathered there.
Mal’s eyes snapped to her. Roswyn stopped speaking at once.
“Where have you been?” Mal’s voice was low.
“Earth,” said Maeve happily, clapping her hands together.
A tight tension shifted through the hall. They all knew she had broken a rule. Mumford and Roswyn exchanged a glance.
“Leave us,” Mal commanded.
All obeyed quickly. Mal stared at her in silence until the hall doors clicking closed echoed across the open archways. His eyes gleamed with faint spots of green.
She hated that green.
“I forbade you from going there, Maeve. I forbade all Earth travel. Do you not remember what happened last time you were on Earth?”
“I suppose it worked, though,” she said.
Mal raised a brow.
“Here you are,” she answered. “If I had known all it took was going to Earth I would have done it months ago.”
The word “months” should have mattered to him. But he merely frowned.
“Here we are once more,” she said. “My patience has all but diminished.”
“What could you possibly desire there?”
“For fuck’s sake Mal,” she raised her voice. “The Cliffside in Scotland where I was raised!”
His eyes did not soften. He shook his head as though she was tricking him.
“Gardens, tea shops, parks of white stone statues surrounded by green life and color. Fucking color. Does the sun rise here? Ever? Or am I waiting on the impossible?
“You have more power here than you ever did on Earth,” he retorted.
“And I am lonely.”
“You have your sister and Abraxas, teaching Maxius–”
“They are not you!”
Mal turned from her and rolled his neck.
“Things are different, you know they are,” she pressed.
Mal didn’t look at her. “I am The Dread Prince. You expect me to stay the same boy you met in school. But to be what I am, to give you all that I am, requires adaptation. The Dread Power was not meant for a mere Magical.”
“Yes, but I didn’t fall in love with a Prince. I fell in love with you.”
Mal’s eyes snapped to her. And she fell silent.
“You think it is not love that drives me to do this?”
Under the weight of his gaze, she couldn’t find the courage to answer.
They stood silently for a moment until Mal finally spoke.
“You have forgotten why we are here.”
“We’re here because this is our promised land–”
“We are here,” Mal rounded on her, “for no other reason than that I am The Dread Descendant. I am the one who was prophesied to conquer the darkness in these lands. I am the one who will restore Magic here. Do you not see the sacrifices I am making? I must leave you and I expose myself to darkness and Magic that is volatile and unknown. And all you see is your own emotional state. When what we are doing is so much more than that, Maeve. This is greater than us–”
“You’re damn right it is. And you are in jeopardy of failing at all of it. I see perfectly well what you are exposing yourself to. I see glimpses of that Magic which now occupies too much of your mind.”
“That is my burden to bear.”
“Then fuck it all! If it is going to consume you, then let’s abandon this. We can go someplace else. Somewhere that doesn’t require such a sacrifice from you, Mal.”
“It is written in Magic. I cannot escape destiny.”
“You once told me I shaped my own destiny. Why are you any different?”
He watched her carefully for a long and silent moment before uttering his truth.
“I want the glory.”
Maeve nodded slowly, grateful for his honesty at last. “And all I want is you.”
Mal stepped towards her, she countered away from him.
“You have spoken your mind, and now I must,” she began. “I am afraid of the darkness that holds you. I am terrified of feeling it in my mind again.”
“I won’t allow that mistake a second time.”
Maeve chest tightened. “You shouldn’t have allowed it in the first place.”
Mal stepped towards her once more, and again she stepped back.
“You wanted me here so badly,” he said, “and now you run.”
Maeve looked up at him, fighting the shake building through her body.
“Do not move away from me again,” he commanded. “That’s an order.”
Mal stepped towards her.
She obeyed, and remained in place.
Maeve looked up at him stubbornly.
A soft, pained, smile split across his face. “Please,” he whispered as his hand moved to her face, “don’t shut me out again.”
His eyes were sincere. Maeve nodded.
Mal’s hand cupped her cheek. “I can’t feel your presence when you are out of the Dread Lands, not barely at all. It felt like your life force was dwindling out.”
Maeve relaxed against his touch. “It was not my intention to scare you. I just. . .”
Mal’s thumb bristled across her bottom lip. “Did you go home?”
She nodded and the tightness in her throat returned.
“There are hydrangea blooming around my father’s gravesite now. Green hydrangea,” she said, her voice constricting. “Vines of blooms in a quantity that take decades to blossom. Yet they are there within just a short time since I visited last.”
He took her face fully in his hands. “They always will be.”
Maeve pressed into him. “Please, Mal,” she whispered, shakily.
“What, Little Viper?”
Maeve placed her hand over his and looked up at him.
“Please don’t carry this alone. I am your Second. Your victor, your assassin, and your sword. I can’t bear to watch you suffer alone. The darkness that dwells in Mount Morte cannot be yours to fight alone.”
He tucked a finger under her chin. “How can I protect you if you are out there?”
“I am not the only one who needs protection.”
Mal dropped his hands, and he stepped back from her. His Magic tensed around her. “How can I make you understand my word is final. You do not set foot near that mountain.”
Maeve’s temper swelled beneath her emotions. “Can you not see what this is doing to you?”
“I see it plainly, Maeve!” He fired back, his voice growing frustrated. “These lands speak to my very blood and tell me to turn back. I hear my ancestors each night I spend here, their ghosts of Castle Morana warning me endlessly to run.” He pointed towards the vaulted green glass windows, heated and angry now. “But that darkness out there says your name.”
Maeve’s stomach twisted over. Mal continued.
“It taunts me with the knowledge that it will find you. On any planet. In any realm. And so, despite the warnings my Magic has offered me, despite every instinct to flee, I cannot, and will not. I will know I have kept you from the world of darkness that hunts you.”
A long silence passed between them.
“My name?” She asked, her voice shaking.
Mal’s shoulders dropped as he exhaled, regaining his normal cool and calm composure. He ran his fingers over his face and through his hair.
“Your name, Little Viper,” he said with a sigh.
The Throne Room was suddenly too cold. And he was too far. She kicked her pride to the side and closed the space between them, throwing her arms around his neck. Mal’s hands slid around her back, embracing her tightly.
One hand slid into his pocket and then ran along her arm. He pulled from her and took her left hand in his.
He slipped the Dread Ring back on her finger. It’s dark stone competing with her Sinclair family ring for attention as it glistened.
“You do not take this off again,” he said, lacing his fingers through her own. “Not ever again.”
Maeve prepared to argue and tell him of the ghostly gaunt woman in her mind who was only absent if she took off the ring.
Her voice caught in her throat as Magic held her silent. Her brows relaxed as shock pooled down her body.
“You are going to swear to it,” he said darkly. “In Magic.”
Maeve shook her head and pulled on his hand. His grip tightened as green flooded his beautiful dark eyes.
“Yes,” he said, not budging as she tried to fight against his Magic. “You are.”