Bound by Forever - (True Immortality #3) Page 0,40

by the need to be in Munich. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, no matter Ronan’s reticence. She’d told him she’d go alone. But no matter how much he grumbled about it, Ronan wouldn’t let her out of his sight.

So they flew to Munich and within five minutes of landing, Niamh got a vision of Rose Kelly.

She would be at the train station tomorrow, and she needed Niamh’s help.

“You know how I feel about you spending time with these people. It’s one thing to set them on the right path, another to be in their company for more than a few minutes. It’s too dangerous.”

Her brother wasn’t wrong, but Niamh couldn’t turn her back on Rose. Unlike most of the others, Niamh had been born with the knowledge of who they were and even had snippets of the fae history buried in her consciousness. Worse, she’d had visions of alternative versions of the future depending on the decisions certain key players made.

The other fae-borne, all but one, had walked around blind, fumbling to find their way in a human-dominated world, confused by their strange abilities. When three fae-borne were hunted and killed by Eirik before Niamh could get to them, two of them didn’t even know what they were.

It was Niamh’s duty to try to save the others. She’d succeeded with Thea Quinn, now MacLennan. And she’d succeed with Rose, no matter what.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Niamh turned and looked down at her brother. “I need to do this.”

His expression darkened. “I need to be in Rome.”

“I told you to stay.”

“You know that’s not an option.” Something dark flickered in his countenance. “Everything I do is for you. I gave up my life in Ireland for you. I’m not going to let you wander alone now, am I, after all that?”

This life suited Ronan. She knew it did. He liked not being tied down anywhere. Liked the money and the travel and the unknown. He could protest until he was blue in the face, but she knew her brother didn’t care about leaving Ireland. He just liked to remind her that she owed him.

Guilt prickled as she remembered the many times she’d come out of a vision to find Ronan straining to hold her, his face stark with concern.

He did love her, though.

She knew that too.

Just sometimes a traitorous question crossed her mind: Which did he love more? Her or her powers?

“Niamh.”

She looked back at him.

His expression had softened. “I just worry about you. Every time we do this, we put ourselves in the path of the Blackwoods and The Garm.”

“I know.” She felt terrible for thinking badly of her brother. “But we know who our enemies are. We can protect ourselves.”

Ronan opened his mouth to respond but instead of his voice, Niamh heard the roar of shattering glass. She flinched, shutting her eyes against it, and when she opened them, they were surrounded by witches and warlocks. Rose was there. She stood between Niamh and Ronan looking fearful and confused.

“What’s going on?” Niamh asked. She turned to face the unfamiliar coven as they held hands and surrounded them.

And then the image slammed into her head, taking her to her knees.

Ronan.

Losing energy, soul, heart … everything he needed to live.

Leaking out of him and into them.

To the coven.

“No!” she screamed, coming out of the vision.

Ronan held her, his expression pale with worry. “Nee?”

“Run,” she whispered. “Ronan, run.”

But it was too late.

Suddenly, he grew limp, falling onto his back, his eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling.

“Ronan.” Niamh scrambled over him. “Ronan!”

Cracks appeared in his skin. Cracks. Cracks. Cracks.

Until his body crumbled inwards and there was nothing left but a pile of ash.

“No!” Niamh’s eyes flew open, her pulse rushing in her ears, her chest heaving with frantic breaths. Disoriented, it took her a moment to realize she was on a plane.

“Are you well?”

She glanced at the woman to her right. The stranger’s brow puckered with sympathy.

Niamh lifted a trembling hand to her forehead and gave the woman a pained, embarrassed smile. “Nightmare. Fear of flying.”

The woman reached out to pat her hand in motherly comfort. “Air travel is the safest mode of travel.”

Niamh gave her a tremulous smile and relaxed into her seat. She closed her eyes against the bright lights of the cabin interior. She hadn’t dreamed of Ronan in a while. For a long time, she wouldn’t even let herself think his name.

The nightmare never depicted the exact reality of his death, but it was a succinct