Everyone moved away as the spell tumbled from her lips. Everyone but him, that is. He couldn’t make himself release her. There was no magic inside him to aid her, but he would give her whatever she needed.
The ground began to vibrate rapidly, the leaves raining down from the trees. Phelan looked at Camdyn, but the Warrior shook his head to let him know he’d had nothing to do with it.
Aisley’s magic grew and expanded with each word of the spell. It was then he understood she was causing the disturbance.
Phelan watched the mist pause as if unsure what was going on. When they tried to retreat, Aisley sealed the crack in Isla’s shield trapping the selmyr inside.
The Druids formed a circle and linked hands, offering their magic alongside Aisley’s. The tremors were so violent, it felt as if the world was about to break in two.
Phelan held Aisley close. The spell fell faster from her lips, coinciding with the vibrations.
Several Warriors surrounded the Druids while the MacLeods kept watch over Britt. But everyone had their eyes on the mist. The selmyr were desperate to get out of the shield. The mist rammed the shield again and again, but it held.
The sheer amount of magic coming from Aisley made Phelan’s skin tingle and need course through him. How he missed holding her, seeing her. Touching her.
“Phelan.”
He looked at her, sure he’d heard her whisper his name. But her eyes were closed and the spell still underway. There was a shout as the mist dove at the Druids on its way to Aisley.
Suddenly her eyes flew open, her body tensed as she finished the spell.
The screams of thousands of selmyr filled the air as the mist was forced into the box. Ronnie hurried over to it and slammed the lid closed when the last of the mist was inside.
“It’s over,” Phelan said and looked at Aisley with a smile. That smile fell when he felt the magic draining from her as fast as her blood. “Fight, Aisley.”
She tried to smile as her eyes closed. And she took her last breath.
“Aisley,” he said and shook her. “Fight, dammit. Fight!”
“She’s gone.”
Phelan looked up to find the Fae woman standing before him. She didn’t wear a sassy smile this time. The sadness in her swirling silver eyes said it all.
He swallowed and pleaded, “Please help her.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” The Fae knelt next to Aisley and rested her hand atop hers before she also touched Phelan. “She saved you. She saved all of you.”
“And there’s nothing you can do?”
She shook her head of long blue-black hair. “Aisley knew by doing the spell it would take the last of her life.”
“So she’s in Hell now?” Phelan asked, hating to even think about it.
The Fae rose in one graceful motion. “There is much left for you to do, prince. I’m going to ensure Wallace can’t bother any of you for a few days so you can bury Aisley. It’s all I can do. I’m sorry.”
Phelan didn’t watch her disappear. His gaze was on Aisley. Bury her? He wouldn’t bury her. The thought of her locked underground as she had been at Wallace’s turned his stomach. Her spirit needed to soar.
He gathered her limp body in his arms and stood. Then he turned and started toward Ferness.
* * *
“How is he?” Hayden asked Charon.
Charon shook his head as he stared at his whisky. Phelan had been locked in the storeroom with Aisley’s body for hours, refusing to come out or allow anyone in.
“Is the pyre ready?”
Hayden poured himself a glass of whisky and sank onto the couch. “Aye. Just.”
“I should go tell him.”
“No need. Isla is taking care of that.”
Charon frowned at Hayden. “Was that a good idea?”
“My wife is stubborn. She also yearns for Phelan’s forgiveness.” He scratched his chin. “Isla was never fully
“I wish I knew. Maybe it would help Phelan heal from this.”
“Will he ever heal from this?”
Charon drained his glass. “Doubtful.”
* * *
Phelan sat staring at Aisley’s body. He cleaned the blood and dirt from her, changed her into a long black gauzy dress he’d gotten from Laura, and combed her midnight locks.
Never again would he look into her fawn-colored eyes or run his fingers through the silky strands of her hair. Never again would he feel her satiny skin or hear her scream in pleasure. Never again would the sound of her laughter brighten his day, nor would he trip over her discarded shoes.
Never again would he feel her magic or know the taste of her kiss.
“I should’ve listened to your explanation,” he told her. “You tried to tell me, but I couldna get past the idea that you were
He blinked and felt something drop onto his cheek. Phelan swiped at it and found a tear. The last time he’d cried was after he’d been chained in Deirdre’s prison as a young lad.
Phelan squeezed his eyes closed as he recalled the wounds and injuries he’d found on Aisley’s body as he washed her. How she had been able to even stand, much less stay alive, he would never know.
“I was too afraid to admit how much I cared for you. What a fool I’ve been. I never got to tell you that I lo … I love you, Aisley. And now you’re gone.”
He waited for her to sit up and tell him what an idiot he was. Phelan was prepared to grovel at her feet, anything, if only she’d come back to him.
There was a soft knock on the door. A touch of magic could be felt. He knew of only one Druid who would dare approach him at that moment.
“Come in, Isla.”
The door creaked open and she stepped inside before closing it softly behind her. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Nay.”
“I’m sorry, Phelan. I truly am.”
Emotion he’d been holding back choked him. He nodded, but didn’t try and speak.
Isla stood beside him and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Aisley looks beautiful.”
Phelan rose and walked to Aisley. “The pyre is ready, is it no’?”
“Yes. It doesn’t have to be done now. We can wait.”
“She deserves to be set free.”
Phelan was surprised when Isla laid a small handful of wildflowers beneath Aisley’s hands, which were clasped over her stomach. He lifted his eyes to Isla and found her crying silent tears.
“I forgive you for your part in what happened to me,” he said. At her surprised expression he jerked his chin to Aisley. “She told me to let go of the past. She was right. I should’ve done it long ago.”
Phelan carefully lifted Aisley one last time. He was tempted to do as Isla suggested and wait, but he knew it was wrong. He would be staring at a body, not the soul that had once been housed within it.
Phelan followed Isla through the forest to a spot near a small stream. On either side of the path were Warriors and Druids from the castle. And to his surprise, he spotted Rhys, Constantine, Banan and Jane, and Guy and Elena.
The pyre was built up over the ground so that Phelan had to take two steps so he could place Aisley’s body on top. He smoothed out her gown and hair and placed one last kiss on her lips.
“Be free,” he whispered.
When Phelan turned around, Charon was waiting at the bottom of the steps with a torch. Phelan took it as he
