The Heartbreak Show (Bound By Ravens #3)

27. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Glenna Lonan-Merrick

“Sit with me, lass.” Gran patted the stump beside her rocking chair.

I slowed my pacing.

Sitting sounded like torture right now. But when Gran arched a make-no-fuss browed look at me, I plopped down onto the log, a growl lodged deep in my chest. I was either wound so tight I could march across Caledona Wood, tearing up trees and tossing them into the sky for days, or deflate until I was a tattered, fraying cotton mound of listless, wasting-away sighs in the grass.

I now had far more respect for growly, primal male problems because good gods this was intense and annoying.

A weary sigh loosened from my tightening throat.

Filena left to oversee the washing between meals and Braelin disappeared to . . . actually, I didn’t know. She was a solitary one sometimes, that lass.

My knee bounced and I twisted a strand of hair around my finger.

Gran chuckled. “That boy has driven ye mad fer years.”

“That boy is chaos incarnate,” I mumbled.

“Oh aye.” Gran plucked the hand fidgeting with a loose bow on my dress and tugged me closer. “Ancient wisdom for ye, lass,” she whispered.

The territorial anxiety crawling just beneath my skin tensed.

Smiling softly, Gran lifted her hand and—flicked my forehead!

“Stars, Gran!” I reared back. I thought she was going to tuck my hair behind my ear, or some other tender, grandmotherly gesture.

“Ye’re an eejit, Glennie Mer,” she said on a delighted cackle.

“That’s it? That’s your ancient wisdom?”

“How long have ye been fae?” She wiped away tears.

I opened my mouth—and froze. She had called me Glennie Mer .

The old hen continued to laugh at my suffering. I probably did look a sight. Now that I thought of it, the Folk at camp had been giving me a wide berth all evening. Aye, separating immediately after bonding was not done, let alone minutes afterward.

“I panicked,” I confessed, pushing back the stinging tears I willed not to fall. “He wanted protection and I couldn’t refuse the gobshite in the end.”

“Ye crave the chaos he stirs in yer well-measured life, ye do.” She chuckled again. “I know ye, my wee Glennie girl. Ye love being driven mad by him.”

The knotted muscles in my shoulders bunched higher.

Familiar, repetitive routines soothed me, organized spaces and supplies too.

She was right, though. My life was a mixing bowl of well-measured ingredients.

My competitive, refuse-to-back down nature, however, craved the challenge of Cian’s flirty rivalry, wrangling his drunken butterfly tendencies, too. And goddess save him, but that lad needed someone to help keep him anchored to the ground or . . .

My brows pushed together.

What was that light in the sky?

“Gran.” I pointed to Seren. “Can you see—” My hands clapped over my mouth in a sharp gasp. I jumped to my feet. That light was . . . cow shaped.

He did it!

He actually found Glas Gaibhnenn!

“Rhylen!” Where was my brother? I turned in a circle, hunting for his familiar silhouette amongst the bustling camp. “Rhylen!”

A faint chorus of caws sounded from above. My head snapped up. Ravens flocked around the glowing light, avoiding the fella’s flapping wings.

I turned around to shout my brother’s name and nearly jumped out of my skin when he was suddenly there at my side, Sean, Finn, and Kalen on his other. When had they crept up beside me?

The lines of Rhylen’s mouth curved down. A scowl darkened between his brows. “Is that a . . . cow?”

Finn shuddered.

“Aye,” Sean confirmed, his voice as uncertain as my brother’s. “Owen and Corbie too.”

Rhylen slowly turned his intensity on me. “The train station?”

My fingers curled into my palms. Not sure what to tell my brother, I just shrugged, which was the wrong answer.

“Glenna Merrick,” he stressed in a low voice, “did Cian cattle raid the Carrion Crime Syndicate?”

That pretty eejit owed me many, many favors after this.

“Well, thank the stars Cian is almost here to tell you himself, Rhylen Lonan, since I was on the mainland with you .”

Kalen huffed a quiet laugh.

My brother’s lips wanted to twitch into a smile at my sass—my riddling too—but Chieftain Rhylen kept his mouth in a firm line. A twinge of guilt hit my middle. Placing one more stone onto the responsibilities he shouldered wasn’t very sisterly of me.

Softening my voice, I added, “Cian traveled to the Underworld for you, brother. For all of us. A course he didn’t initiate and one that, if shared sooner, would have burdened you more than you feel this moment.”

At that, the crease between Rhylen’s brows deepened. “I believe you.” He held my gaze for one more long, worrisome beat then angled his head toward the night sky once more.

The Syndicate flew away from the fellas and toward us. Four males in black silk vests, sleeves rolled up, and wearing felted low top hats on their ear-length or shorter hair shifted beside two females in matching crimson and black striped bustled corset gowns, both with rosettes in their curled and coiffed hair.

“Her Ladyship will arrive momentarily,” one of the males said.

A warning hint of canine was Rhylen’s reply, his eyes darkening, but he dipped his head. My brother was a gooey cinnamon roll center until his family was threatened. He’d fight all of Seren for Cian.

Our six Seren cousins, in unison, turned to watch the boys land.

My hammering heart was in my throat. I searched for Cian but the faerie cow’s shine was blinding. Where was that troublemaking eejit? Was he still on Seren? Tears pricked the back of my eyes right as a roll of anger thundered down my tightening muscles. I would snap every wing on Seren if they refused me my mate.

A hand slipped into mine and I tensed. “Look closer, darlin’,” Filena whispered.

Straightening my shoulders, I studied Owen and Corbin right before they touched ground, my eyes hunting once more for the silk pink gown and the messy golden hair that drove me wild. Poor Corbin, the lad’s face was practically pressed to the cow’s glowing arse.

I stilled.

Why was there a third pair of wings? On the cow’s back?

My gaze trailed the slope of the ruffling mound of black feathers to—I sucked in a sharp breath . . .

. . . And instinct took over.

I began running.

I heard my name being called, but I was a stretchy band pulled tight and released at the sight of my mate. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Angry, joyous tears. I wanted to shake that man and kiss him senseless.

At the same time, Ravenna Blackwing shifted by her lackeys right as the faerie cow began shaking. I registered this, even as I ran by the former Raven queen, especially as I approached Cian’s trembling familiar, but my primal state was too driven to reunite with my mate to consider anything else.

Until a loud bellowing moo echoed through the woods, that is. Glas Gaibhnenn bucked her hind legs. Cian unknotted a rope around his waist and fell off his cow in an unceremonious thwump, scrabbling away on hands and knees. The moment Cian hit the ground, the cow stilled. A bright flash of light illuminated Caledona Wood. I skidded to a stop, throwing an arm up to shield my eyes. When the night returned, I lowered my hands and gaped.

Glas Gaibhnenn was frozen into a spelled taxidermized state. Like witch-cursed skunk ornaments. And seven moons, she was hideous. The poor beastie appeared like she had survived a Samhain sacrifice to Lugh and vowed her revenge.

Cian groaned as he fumbled to a stand on wobbly legs, in large wings, cock boots, tight trousers that hugged the curves of his legs, an old-fashioned faerie tale styled tunic—similar to Finn’s and Kalen’s shirts—his hair wind-tousled in a just-bedded mess, ash heavily lining his gray eyes, and . . . were those fake elven ears?

Our eyes locked.

His chest heaved, as if the sight of me took his breath away.

I couldn’t breathe either. He was so Otherworldly gorgeous, especially dressed as he was, a blush warmed my neck and face. Stars help me, I was about to swoon.

Behind me, the camp roared with humor, Filena’s cackling loudest of them all. A laugh spurted past my compressed lips too. Only Cian would fashionably arrive late to a gathering by riding a vengeful, glowing cow across the sky, led by two strapping winged lads, as if he were Lugh with his two magical ravens.

As if he were . . . a deity.

But he was.

The barest hint of light touched his skin, almost unnoticeable. Almost.

At my warming cheeks, the sensuous lines of his far too-pretty mouth curved higher. He was enjoying my lovestruck stupor far too much.

Fisting a hand on my hip, I cocked my head. “Cow eat your dre—”

In one step, he cupped my face and slammed his lips onto mine.

A storm erupted in my chest at the crushing feel of his perfect mouth. Only half a night gone, but my heart was keening from our separation. Even now, he was still too far away. Clawing my hands into his hair, I twisted the strands around my fingers and yanked him closer, deepening our kiss. He moaned, low and raspy. And sweet goddess, I could devour him this moment. Those sounds of pleasure only heightening the primal desire flaming through me.

In the background, suggestive, teasing hoots and cheers bled through my Cian-drugged possession, and he slowed our kiss. Reluctantly, he pulled away and I could weep. More, more, I was desperate for so much more. Our panting breaths tangled together in a sultry dance. I was melting away in his arms.

Lowering his mouth to my ear, he whispered, “A dozen women ripped the skirt from my body while worshiping me.”

“Mmm,” I replied in a heady daze. So, the cow did eat his dress. She was an angry thing. Cian straightened as his lips inched up in a delighted smile that was pure mischief. Why was he looking at . . . his words pushed through the fog. Baring my canines, I shoved him back. “What?!”

His grin widened.

A growl rumbled from my chest. I would kill them. All of them.

The arse bit a corner of his mouth in a flirty taunt. “Like my wings, darlin’?”

No, change of plans. First, I would tie him to a tree for the Wee Folk to torture, then I would pluck the eyes out of each woman who dared touch my mate.

He winked, grabbing my hand. “Rhylen gets to torture me first.”