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  “Who are you?”

  Her eyes closed when his hand caressed her face. “Sleep.”

  “Who are you?” she asked again.

  “Sleep,” he commanded.

  She began to drift back into her dreamless sleep when she heard, “You know me, Moira. Remember. Your body does.”

  Dartayous waited until she was once again asleep before he rose from the bed. With wooden legs he walked from her chamber and closed the door behind him. He hadn’t even checked to make sure Lugus was near, and frankly he would welcome a fight right now.

  He sighed and leaned his head against the door. Her body had known him. For a moment he had thought she had remembered, but it had faded like the sunset leaving only darkness, a darkness that threatened to claim him.

  Anger for what they had been thrown into without giving them this information welled fiercely within him. Frang and the Fae had known for years what they would encounter.

  Moira might very well pay for this with her soul, and Dartayous was fairly sure he would pay with his life.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Moira’s eyes flew open. She didn’t move as memories of the night before flashed in her mind. She longed to know who the mysterious man was, and despite the fact he had said she knew him, she couldn’t recall his name.

  She swung her legs over the side of the bed and saw the sun shinning through her open windows. She hadn’t even remembered going to bed. Her last thought was of her and Lugus sharing a goblet of wine.

  No matter how she tried she could recall no memories farther back than when she came to be at the palace. As soon as she became troubled with that thought it immediately vanished with the knowledge that she belonged here.

  After she had bathed and dressed in a gown of a bluish-silver she heard a knock on her door. She opened it to find Lugus wearing a tunic that matched her gown.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” he said as he lifted her hand to kiss it. “I wanted our first appearance as king and queen to make a grand showing.”

  She smiled. “Of course I don’t mind. Shall we go?”

  “Not just yet,” he said and drew his other hand from behind his back. “I believe

  this belongs to you.” She gasped and reached for the magnificent necklace of silver and pearls. “’Tis mine?” “You are the queen, and that is the queen’s necklace. Put it on,” he said and gave her a gentle push toward the mirror. She secured it around her neck and gazed at herself in the mirror. She had to admit she looked perfect, and with Lugus by her side they made an ideal pair. “Perfection,” he said and kissed her cheek. “Let us go. We have business to attend to.”

  * * * *

  Dartayous knew Lugus had set a trap, but he had to go into the throne room. He had stayed with Moira most of the night until the sun had begun its climb into the sky.

  He closed his eyes for a moment and pictured Moira as she had been before Lugus had taken over her mind. His favorite memory was of her flaxen hair shining in the Highland sun as she smiled up at him. He had been a fool to resist her for so long.

  All those years he watched her from afar when he could have shared them with her, her joy, her pain, her sorrows. He hated his immortality at that moment that had kept his heart hidden from everyone.

  But that wasn’t a true reason. Only a coward would hide behind that lie and he was anything but a coward. In truth, he had always feared the strong feelings for Moira that ran deep within him. He had feared exactly this.

  It was past time to chide himself. He could rectify his wrongs once he had Moira out of Lugus’ grasp. With a deep breath he turned and stepped into the throne room.

  * * * *

  Moira sat patiently beside Lugus in the throne room. She surveyed the silver thrones to find etchings on them that matched something she had seen before. She couldn’t place where she had seen the markings, but she was sure she had.

  She shifted in her seat and the soft white cushion beneath her never moved. “What are we waiting for?”

  “A visitor,” he said flatly and never took his eyes off the double doors that led into the room.

  She looked to her side and found Rufina watching her. Her gaze then went to the group of men wearing kilts standing on either side of the room. She recognized one of the plaids, but couldn’t think of the clan that it belonged to.

  Her hands went to her temples where she massaged. The pain became unbearable, and it only happened when she tried to think of things that didn’t come easily to her.

  “You must remember.”

  Moira’s gaze snapped to Rufina. “What?” she whispered.

  “Your head aches because you are struggling to remember. Fight against it and you will gain control again.”

  She stared at the old queen. “I don’t know what you are speaking of.”

  “You do,” Rufina stated. “Remember what I told you.”

  “Enough,” Lugus roared. He stood and strode to Rufina. “I was wrong in allowing you to speak.”

  Moira watched as Lugus held up his hand and Rufina cried out in pain. The cry ended suddenly, but Moira knew she was still in pain by the tears running down her face.

  “Stop,” she begged Lugus. “Stop,” she shouted when he didn’t immediately look at her.

  His feral blue eyes jerked to her and he dropped his hand. “Why?”

  She thought quickly, hoping he wouldn’t read her thoughts. “Because she amuses me.”

  He stared at her for a moment before he nodded and once again sat. She had just sat back to await their visitor when a roar rent the air and a man ran into the throne room. The men on either side rushed the lone man.

  The man fought Lugus’ men swiftly and effortlessly until the leader walked behind him and sliced open his back. Moira briefly recognized the man, but the pain in her head overwhelmed any thoughts of delving further.

  Eyes of blue flame found hers. Her mouth dropped open as she recognized him as the man who had come to her the previous night. Who was he?

  “There is your precious Dartayous,” Lugus mumbled so softly Moira almost didn’t catch his words.

  Memories flooded her as she stared at Dartayous, and all because Lugus had said his name. She darted a glance at Lugus wondering if he knew that she had thrown off his magic. The smile on his face as he watched Dartayous fight made her sick to her stomach.

  She turned her head toward Dartayous and knew she had only one choice if she was to get him out of this alive. She kept her eyes on him but her face devoid of all

  emotion, especially when she felt Lugus’ gaze on her.

  “Who is he?” she leaned over and asked.

  “Someone who wants you dead.”

  She gasped and covered her hand with her mouth. Her eyes found his. “And you have let him in the palace?” She prayed that she sounded like she did before her memory returned.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

  Apparently she had convinced him. Now, all she had to do was keep it up. “What are you to do with him?”

  “Kill him.”

  She watched as Dartayous fought and killed the men. But the one person she was worried about him killing was MacNeil. She didn’t even wonder why he was here. Lugus had brought him. What Lugus had planned for MacNeil was another matter. One she would have to discover later.

  It was all she could do to stay in her seat when a sword sliced open Dartayous’ chest. Blood ran down his chest and into his vest. She gripped the arms of her chair, her breath held waiting for Dartayous to fall.

  She jumped when Lugus’ hand touched hers. His brows knotted together when he looked at her. “Are you concerned for him?”

  Suddenly she recalled what Rufina had told her, that she could block Lugus from reading her thoughts. She quickly blocked him and said, “I don’t wish him to die just yet. I want him to suffer.”

  Dartayous couldn’t believe the words that came out of Moira’s mouth. He looked toward her and Lugus sitting on the
throne as he held his chest. Blood ran down both arms making his grip on the sword difficult at best.

  With his attention on Moira and her smiling face directed at Lugus, Dartayous didn’t see the sword swung at his leg. He cried out and fell to his knees. He managed to hang onto his sword by sheer will alone.

  He tried to rise, but couldn’t. His gaze rose and found MacNeil standing beside him, his sword dripping blood. It was over before it had hardly begun. MacNeil raised his sword above his head.

  Dartayous prayed that Moira would forgive him, because he would never forgive himself for not saving her.

  “Hold, MacNeil,” Lugus shouted as he rose from his chair.

  Dartayous watched out of the corner of his eye as MacNeil lowered his sword and waited. It would be so easy to kill MacNeil now, but he couldn’t. The prophecy must be fulfilled.

  “Go stand by the wall,” Lugus told MacNeil when he reached them.

  Dartayous stayed on his knees, his sword still clutched in his hand. His body screamed silently in pain from the cuts as well as the hole in his chest where his heart used to reside.

  Lugus leaned down. “You wouldn’t dare try and kill me now.”

  Dartayous didn’t know what he meant until he saw Moira approach. “You are a coward.”

  Lugus laughed and kicked out with his foot. Dartayous tried to duck the foot but didn’t move quick enough. It connected with his chin and sent him flying onto his back.

  “What shall we do with him?” Lugus asked Moira.

  Dartayous waited to hear her words, words that would most likely slice open his heart.

  Moira wanted to cry out when she saw the blood on Dartayous. Instead she knelt beside him and moved his hand from his chest. Where there had been a wound was nothing more than a pink line as if the wound had healed itself.

  “He’s healing,” she said.

  Lugus knelt on the other side of her and examined Dartayous. “So you really are Fae.”

  “It seems so,” Dartayous said.

  Moira had been prepared to heal him herself, but she was stunned at what she had found.

  “Although,” Lugus said, “I’ve never seen a Fae heal nearly this quickly.”

  “Does it really matter,” Moira said. “With this healing we will be able to make him suffer longer than I had planned.”

  She refused to look at Dartayous for fear that she would see the hurt and anger in his eyes and she would break down and cry. She took Lugus’ offered hand and rose to her feet.

  “I knew you were the perfect queen,” Lugus said and walked her back to her chair. “MacNeil, bring our prisoner.”

  She sat down and watched as MacNeil roughly dragged Dartayous to his feet. Then had to look away when MacNeil pushed him toward Lugus and he fell back to the floor.

  It was too much. She would never be able to carry out this hoax, she told herself. She couldn’t stand to see Dartayous in any kind of pain. He didn’t deserve it. She did. She was the one who got them in this mess. All because she hadn’t trusted Dartayous as he had asked.

  Her eyes filled with tears. She hastily blinked them away and found Rufina staring at her. Moira dearly wished Rufina could still talk. There was much she wanted to ask the queen and much she wanted to tell her.

  With a deep sigh she turned back to Dartayous and gasped. “He still bleeds,” she said as she rose to her feet and pointed to the trail of blood.

  She turned to Lugus when silence met her words. His gaze was narrowed on her. She widened her eyes and played the innocent.

  “My lord, if he bleeds too much then I won’t be able to torture him as I want.”

  She waited as Lugus’ eyes stared at her for one heartbeat, two...three. Then, finally he turned to MacNeil. “What bleeds?”

  MacNeil bent down and looked Dartayous over. “The wound to the back of his calf, my king.”

  “Staunch the wound,” he commanded then turned to Moira. “Does that satisfy you?”

  She put a bright smile on her face. “Greatly, my lord.”

  “I did not realize you were so bloodthirsty.”

  Neither had Dartayous. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Moira since she had first said she wanted to torture him. She was not the lass he had known in the glen. Lugus’ control must be great.

  But what had Rufina said? Moira had a choice to make. That was her destiny. And she had made that choice. Lugus had won. She could have held him off if she hadn’t wanted Lugus. Apparently she had lied when she had told him that she thought him her mate.

  “My queen wishes you to suffer greatly,” Lugus said when Dartayous knelt before him and Moira.

  Dartayous unclenched his teeth. “And why is that?”

  “Because you came here to kill her.”

  Dartayous laughed. “I came to kill you, not Moira.”

  Lugus surged to his feet. “How dare you say that I lie.”

  “I will dare much,” Dartayous ground out.

  “Not for much longer.”

  Despite not wanting to, Dartayous’ eyes sought Moira out. She was examining her nails as if she didn’t have a care in the world. What little hope remained in him vanished in a heartbeat.

  “MacNeil,” Lugus barked. “Put him in the sun chamber.”

  Dartayous didn’t give Moira another look. He couldn’t. He was a broken man. He had failed Frang and the Druids. He had failed his own kin. He had failed himself. But most of all he had failed the one person that meant more to him than life itself.

  Moira.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Fiona sat up, her breathing ragged and tears streaming down her face. She looked beyond the blackness of her chamber to what she had seen in her dream.

  “What is it?” Gregor asked as he sat up. “Another dream?”

  She nodded and wiped her face. She turned and looked at her husband. “’Tis Dartayous. He has lost hope.”

  Gregor laid back down and pulled her into his arms. “Tell me about the dream.”

  “’Tis just as Frang said. Moira made her choice.”

  “And it wasn’t Dartayous.”

  Fiona shook her head against his chest. “Without his hope he won’t survive.”

  “The time of the prophecy is almost upon us. ‘Tis just a matter of a few weeks.”

  “I know, and we aren’t prepared for the worst because we’ve kept hope alive.”

  “What are you saying? Are you giving up?”

  She leaned up on her elbow and gazed down at him. “It will be shown to us just how hopeless the situation is. People will lose faith when they see Moira turned from her true course and Dartayous without hope.”

  “Is there anything we can do to change the outcome?”

  “’Tis up to Moira. She’s the only one who has control over this.”

  She laid back down and snuggled against Gregor. Her hand went to her stomach

  where new life bloomed. She had almost told Gregor of their good fortune today, but something had held her tongue. Now she knew what. In the morning, she would consult with Glenna about her dream. Maybe the two of them could think of something. Regardless, she would not give up on Moira. * * * *

  Moira pushed the food around her bowl. She had lost her appetite when she had watched Lugus suspend Dartayous up as Aimery had been. Lugus had then handed MacNeil a whip.

  Several times she’d had to swallow the bile in her mouth as Dartayous’ back was flayed open. They would wait until he healed then do it once again. When they handed her the whip she had refused saying she had a better idea for torture.

  But during the endless hours, Dartayous had never called out. He stared straight ahead with his hands clenched. Her heart had cried out for him when he passed out from the pain and MacNeil splashed water in his face to revive him.

  So many times she wanted to stop the torture, to tell Lugus that he didn’t have control over her anymore, but the thought that her confession would only land her next to Dartayous and ruin her plans halted her. She took faith in the fact that Lugu
s wouldn’t kill Dartayous.

  She had a little time to find a way to free Dartayous. She had to keep the charade going until she could right the wrong she had done. It might cost her her soul, but it was worth it.

  A hand landed atop hers. Her eyes jerked to Lugus. “Something amiss, my king?”

  “You are not eating,” he said and glanced down at her bowl. “Does the food not suit you?”

  “Forgive me,” she said and gave him a little smile. “I’m just planning my torture on our prisoner.”

  His eyes gleamed evilly. “And what do you have planned?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I’ve thought about using a sword, a dagger or even a bow an arrow, but I would like something unique.”

  “How about if I let you torture him before I kill him?”

  Her stomach dropped to her feet like a stone. “Kill him?”

  “He deserves no less for coming here to see you dead.”

  She turned her head away from him acting as if she was mulling his words when all the while she tried to keep her stomach from losing its contents.

  When she could talk she turned back to him. “’Tis true. When are you planning it?”

  “When we return to your world for the fulfillment of the prophecy two days hence.”

  She nodded and took a drink from her goblet. “I would like that very much.”

  “Good,” he said and nodded in approval. “Now eat. You’re going to need your strength.”

  * * * *

  Dartayous slowly came awake to the sound of his name but kept his eyes shut. He tried to lift his head and nearly cried out from the pain. His entire body ached. He had been held in mid-air with his arms stretched painfully to the side. But it was his back that hurt the worst. It was as though someone had lit it afire it burned so badly.

  “Dartayous. Wake up.”

  “I’m awake,” he called out then winced when pain lashed across his back. “Who wants to know?”

  A dry laugh met his question. “Don’t you know?”

  “Aimery? Is that you?”

  “What’s left of me.”

  “Where are you?” Dartayous looked around the room but found light so bright he could barely keep his eyes open.