He shook his head and turned his back on Calan. Arms crossed, Arawn stared at the rolling meadows. Thousands of brightly colored dots floated and weaved over the flowers and tall grass. The pulses danced around the hounds that rolled and raced in endless play.
Time stretched. Calan waited, knowing his father would eventually say what troubled him.
“Did you meet her mother?” Arawn finally asked.
The question caught him off guard. “She died the night I stumbled upon Harley, but somehow she knew what Harley was.” Calan rubbed at his chin. “Or at least she suspected it. The woman kept Harley secluded from the world and safe from the redcaps.”
He didn’t want to remember how. The sight of the basement had been enough to enrage him, yet he knew it had been part of the reason why Harley had survived.
“She did know.”
Calan tensed. “You know who she was?”
Arawn inclined his head. “And what she is.”
Present tense. Calan caught the distinction. He narrowed his eyes, not following his father’s hint. “She was human. She had to be. Only the fairies and Huntsmen can walk in the mortal realm.”
Even the angels were restricted to an ethereal form of mist. They had limited powers and could manipulate the physical world only through small acts of nature, such as the wind that had broken the tree limb ages ago and saved another human female.
“Oh, she is human. So are her sisters.” Arawn grunted. “All seventeen of them. They are Minerva’s maidens and act as her hand in the mortal world.”
The goddess of love’s handmaidens. He’d heard of them, but from the humans only. None of the otherworldly creatures he’d met over his long life had ever mentioned Minerva’s reclusive maidens.
“They are tied to Minerva and carry a piece of her essence, but essentially they are humans who live, love, and die as all mortals do,” Arawn went on.
Calan sucked in a rough breath. “What does that make Harley?”
“An anomaly.” Arawn glanced at him. His expression remained blank, but his eyes had grown cold. “A soul stuck between Heaven, Hell, and madness. All are a part of her, and she can embrace none. She must walk the cracked tightrope between them and not fall.”
“She won’t. I will be her strength, the one who holds her up. Together we will endure and thrive.”
Arawn stared at him for an endless moment. “The female loves you.”
Calan stood next to Arawn, mimicking his stance. Although his father’s words had not been posed as a question, he answered. “Yes, Harley loves me.”
Arawn closed his eyes. “Has she completed the union?”
“Not yet. I stopped her when I gave her my half, because I wanted her to see and love both sides of me.”
A sigh of relief escaped Arawn. “Good.” He glanced at him. “You cannot allow her to finish it. I will speak with the Triad to see if we can undo the mating you have started.”
The mention of the triple-faceted entity who ruled over all—gods, humans, and everything in between—didn’t faze him. His father’s suggestion he break his bond to Harley did, however.
Calan’s nails lengthened. He used the sharp talons to slam his father against the stone fortress, locking him into place. “You will do no such thing. Harley is mine. There will be no severing of my circle.” He leaned closer and snarled. “My choice, my mate, my love. I won’t allow anyone to take Harley from me.”
Instead of the rage he expected, pity showed on Arawn’s stark features. The look cut through Calan’s fury. He yanked his claws free and stumbled back. His pulse picked up a quickened beat to match the rough breaths heaving his chest. Arawn’s slumped shoulders and slackened features chilled him. Calan had never seen the male before him—the god of Hell—appear so…defeated.
“And that is why you will fail, my beloved child.”
“Why? You cannot tell me such a thing without an explanation.”
Arawn motioned for them to walk. Calan fell into step beside him. They followed the path to the calm pond. At the edge, Arawn linked his hands behind his back. “I do not blame you. I too made a horrible mistake when I bound Minerva to me. It is in our natures to want to claim the female we’ve chosen to be ours, no matter what our rational minds might tell us.”
“I will be the mate Harley needs. You do not need to—”
“Stop. You must listen to me, not fight me.” Arawn faced him. “I have been deceived, and you will suffer for it.”
Calan tensed. “By whom?”
Anger replaced the sadness stamped on Arawn’s face. “By everyone!”
“How?”
Arawn shook his head. His skin darkened, his body elongated, and his spine arched. Moments away from reclaiming his hellish form, Arawn visibly fought it. He trembled, but finally, his breathing slowed and the slip into his darker side reverted, and he returned to his natural form. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes and groaned. “The rules got changed. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It wasn’t. I was fed lies!”
“What wasn’t supposed to happen, and who lied?”
Arawn dropped his hands. “Only trust our Teulu, my son. No one else.” He leveled a hard look at him. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Calan slowly dipped his chin. “And Harley will soon be a part of it. You must trust her too.”
“This has nothing to do with trusting her and everything to do with your choice in loving her.” Arawn’s narrowed eyes focused on him. “Did you not think about how mating a fairy would affect the curse you hold?”
“I do not bear the curse.” He’d be suffering alongside his siblings if he did.
Arawn laughed. The bitter sound cut through Calan. A sense of trepidation seized his heart. He stepped back.
“Have you forgotten
