Veins of Magic by Emma Hamm

Author:Emma Hamm [Hamm, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-12-18T18:30:00+00:00

Sorcha couldn’t sleep. Her mind whirled with possibilities and the screams of dying men.

War flickered to life behind her eyes. Memories that were not hers, but those of druid women. Blood coated their hair, bodies painted blue as they screamed out their rage. She couldn’t understand the power of their anger. It bubbled over their soul until they became a beast, no longer human.

Eamonn shifted behind her. His arm slid from her waist and he rolled onto his side. Distance. It kept growing between them, further and further until she wondered if they slept in the same bed at all.

She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and slipped from beneath the furs. Glancing over her shoulder, she waited until he settled again.

Did he know how beautiful he was? Eamonn was a vision of power. Crystals glinted in the moonlight, decorating his skin like thousands of stars.

It hurt to look at him when she was so angry.

She couldn’t yell at him for making a decision that felt right. He had made his choice, and they fundamentally did not agree on how to handle this war. She only wished he would listen more carefully.

The floor was cold against her toes, bitter and icy. Her white nightgown suddenly seemed flimsy against the cold night air that wiggled beneath the door and sank claws into her skin.

She pulled the fur from a nearby chair and slipped out onto the balcony.

The full moon smiled down at her. Silver light gave mist a magical quality as it swirled through the courtyard below. The dwarves had built a pattern into the stones they replaced. A triskele, she realized with a smile. They honored the old ways.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” The warm voice was recognizable, and one she had not heard in a very long time.

“Bran,” she replied, warmth imbuing her voice with happiness. “It has been a long time.”

“Yes, I suppose it has.”

“Where have you been?”

“My life is not all about meddling in Seelie affairs.”

She grinned and turned towards the raven man. “Just recently?”

He looked exactly as she remembered him. The strange dark feathers that smoothed along his cheekbone and forehead. A raven eye filled one socket, too large in comparison to the other and restless in its movements. One side of his head was still shaved, although a new growth filled in the pale skin of his skull.

“You look well,” she said.

“As do you. Something has changed within you.”

“I discovered I am a druid.”

“No it’s not that.” He leaned forward and lifted a lock of her hair. “You appear more confident.”

“I am.”

“You’re carrying yourself far more regally than before.”

“I have learned to do so.”

“But you’re still dressed like a peasant.” He let his hand drop. “Eamonn has not yet beaten his brother, I take it?”

“Do you really think I wouldn’t dress like this if I was Queen?”

Bran shook his head, a severe look marring his handsome features. “No, you are far too connected to the earth to be swayed by jewelry and silk.

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