RONAN

The more I focus, the more I’m convinced the sensation—the power—I’m feeling is definitely the goddess, The Di’an Dulaine, who disappeared so many centuries ago.

But it’s more than that. I can feel the goddess’ power, but something else, too. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s a priestess of the goddess’ bloodline.

Which means, the prophecy may yet come true.

I might finally have full rule over my father’s kingdom.

Frowning, I head toward Castle Dundorie, where I feel the power tugging at me. If I can feel this, so can my half-brother.

Should I reach out with our mind-link, just to gauge his emotions and see if he’s feeling this, too?

But I don’t want to give it away in case he isn’t. Shaking my head, I walk through the woods and head toward the castle.

If the goddess is waking up and the priestess is at the castle, as I sense, then Cian definitely knows about it already. In fact, he may have caused it somehow.

Has he found a way to bring the goddess back?

When I break through the tree line, I look across the field at the castle. It was my home for centuries, until the day I died and the prophecy was foretold.

Although I spent a lot of time away from Castle Dundorie because of wars and battles, I grew up there with my father and Cian.

Memories flood my brain and haunt my mind. Some good. Many bad. Cian and I were born on the same day in the same hour, and I feel like we came out of our mothers’ wombs hating and fighting each other.

We are just too different, yet we both covet rulership of the kingdom. That’s a powerful force that can easily drive a wedge between brothers, especially siblings who have the potential to live forever.

Unlike mortals, who measure their life by the time they have left and therefore try to mend strained relationships before it’s too late, Cian and I have an eternity to decide to bury the hatchet if we wish.

Unfortunately, neither of us wishes to end our feud. Not when the throne is on the line. As long as we have to share the kingdom as half-kings, we will always fight.

I want the throne as much as my brother, but Cian is obsessed with it. And I’m obsessed with keeping him from having it.

Not just because I want it, but because I’m afraid he’ll destroy Dundoire and its people. He’s not a hands-on ruler. He’s not in touch with the people and their needs and wants.

Cian likes to rule from above and not get his hands dirty, and this means he doesn’t understand what’s truly going on in the kingdom.

He also is hesitant to fight when there’s a need. He’d rather try to negotiate, whereas I like to take the offensive and stop the threat before it takes hold.

As I stand here looking at my former home, memories of arguments over how to handle the kingdom resurface.

Cian and I always fought, and our father, King Dumnorix, tried his best to make us get along.

Nothing worked.

We couldn’t even keep our word, despite the fact that it was our father’s dying wish.

I know I’m to blame for that. I drew my blade first. And I’ll always regret that action. Still, since Cian loves to negotiate, I have to wonder why he didn’t try and stop me.

Would I have stopped? Or would I have swung a death blow? I honestly don’t know, and sometimes, when I’m asleep, I dream about different outcomes.

The prophecy said Cian and I could be the greatest rulers of all time but that our hatred and greed could destroy us. What would things be like if we were family instead of enemies?

I haven’t set foot in the castle for two centuries, ever since we made a pact that I would stay in my territory with the commoners, as Cian likes to call everyday folk, and he would continue to live in our childhood home.

Around the same time, he turned the castle into a university and took refuge in the undercroft. If either of us encroached on the other’s territory without gaining permission first, it would lead to war.

And neither of us wanted that. Not again. We are tired of fighting, especially each other. Plus, we figured there was no hope of the prophecy coming true since The Di’an Dulaine disappeared so long ago.

My thoughts return to the present. What if Cian has managed to revive the goddess somehow? I have to know, even though it means I have to go into his territory to find out.

My gaze drops to the basement of the castle, to the long windows where I can get a peek inside. After looking around to make sure no one will see me, I use my vampire speed to get to them.

He’s not in the undercroft, though. I sense him elsewhere in the castle. And more importantly, the sensation that’s been bothering me is there, too. Much stronger than earlier.

A long time ago, I learned a cloaking spell from the village witch. I don’t use it often because it’s not reliable and doesn’t usually work on other supernatural beings, such as my brother.

Reaching into the pouch I always keep looped around my belt, I whisper the incantation to cast the spell as I sprinkle a pinch of herbs over the top of my head, letting them drift down over my body.

A slight tingling sensation lets me know it’s working, so I begin creeping around the outskirts of the castle, looking in windows.

My eyes are drawn to a small redheaded woman, and I feel a sizzle zing through my veins. I know without having to see that Cian is watching the same woman from behind a bookshelf in the library, and that this is the source of power I sensed.

My heart races in my chest and a smile pulls across my face. This is her. This is the priestess, I’m sure of it!

She’s talking to a young man and woman, and it looks like they might be friends. I can’t take my eyes off her.

She’s stunning, with long, fiery red hair a shade lighter than my own. She’s smaller and wouldn't reach my shoulders if we were standing next to each other, but I can see her inner strength in the way she carries herself.

Turning her head, she responds to something her male friend said, and I’m struck by how green her eyes are. Emerald green. Irish green.

She resembles The Di’an Dulaine, but this woman’s features are softer, and she has an innocence about her.

She and her friends leave the library, and I shake my head to bring my mission back into focus. I continue in a low crouch, going from window to window, trying to follow her, but she’s disappeared for now.

I can still feel her, though. Although the feeling is strong, I can tell the magic is not. Not yet. Does the woman even know she’s a descendant of The Di’an Dulaine?

Does she care?

If she doesn’t, how will she bring the prophecy to fruition?

That thought gives me pause, but only briefly. Now that I know the priestess is here, I have to figure out how Cian is involved.

For the next couple of hours, I sneak around the castle. The spell will wear off soon, if it hasn’t already, and I’m taking a big risk the longer I’m in Cian’s territory, but this is too important.

After catching only a couple more glimpses of Cian following the priestess, I make my way over to the undercroft windows.

Staying low, trying to hide my big body behind the bushes next to the window, I peer in at Cian opening a secret compartment in his desk. Father’s old desk. I’m surprised it has lasted this long.

He pulls out an old piece of parchment and carefully looks at it. His eyes light up with excitement, and something else.

Satisfaction?

Maybe.

Cian stiffens and turns his head slowly in my direction.

I dart away, my abrupt movement shaking the bushes in my wake. I can’t chance running across the yard right now because there are a couple of people walking the grounds, so I continue along the castle wall.

A window above my head opens, and there’s Cian, standing in his full fury. His black hair is impeccably styled, as usual, and his brown eyes narrow with just a hint of red around the edges to attest to his anger.

He yells at me to get off the property. Slowly straightening to my full height of six-foot-four, I meet his fury unflinchingly.

“You know why I’m here,” I tell him through our mind-link. “And you know what this means.”