by Willow Hayes
Teo turns slightly in his seat, and I see his eyes flash with gold, but it’s gone in a moment, and he asks, “What got you into fighting?” He grins at me because he knows I’ve been caught in my dirty fantasies.
I narrow my eyes at him slightly and debate whether to tell him because the root of why I fight reveals more than I think I’m ready to share. I settle on a truncated explanation. “I had a pretty rough childhood, and when I started at university I heard about a kickboxing class at a local gym. I thought it would be a good skill to have in light of my experiences. Reg, the owner of the gym, seemed to think I kicked the shit out things well and asked if I wanted to take some more advanced classes with him. I was hooked from then on. I love the bags and the ring, but I honestly still have so much to learn.” I can feel the soft smile spread across my face as I describe my passion.
“Spitfire, you really are badass! I knew you had skills on the mats, but now I wish I could have seen you spar at the gym!” Teo exclaims from the front seat.
“That’s right I’m a badass Pretty Boy, and I’m gonna kick your ass on the mats,” I taunt with a grin, even though we both know he is going to kick my ass. Teo brings out my competitive and shit talking side though.
“Yeah, yeah, you keep telling yourself that, but it ain’t happenin,” he tosses over his shoulder with a flick of his hand, dismissing my statement.
When we pull up to a small white cottage surrounded by trees out in the middle of nowhere I start to feel uncertain that we have the right place, but when the oldest person I have ever seen comes out the door my uncertainty vanishes. The Fae is beautiful, even in her old age, and you can tell that in her youth she would have been stunning. Her caramel colored skin is covered in wrinkles, her hair is pure white and drapes over one shoulder in a single braid, she has rings running up her ears and fingers, and she wears a flowing lavender skirt and a loose fitting deep purple linen shirt. She moves with a grace that belies her age and her kind smile and mischievous eyes have me breathing a bit easier.
With a wave of her wrinkled hand and in a voice smoother than I thought possible she beckons us in, “Come, come you must be tired from your journey. Come and sit a bit while Kenna asks the questions I am sure she is bubbling over with.”
I start at the mention of my name. How did she know my name? I look around, and the guys are all shrugging or shaking their heads as if to say that they didn’t tell her. She chuckles at our reactions and simply says, “I know things.” She motions once again for us to come in.
I stare at her in amazement for a moment before I shake myself and move to follow her. Callum motions for me to wait and enters the cottage. I see him carefully checking all the corners, and I realize he is looking out for my safety. The gesture is oddly touching because few people have ever had my back.
As we get settled on the simple but comfortable chairs in her living room the ancient Fae turns to face me and starts right in, “My name is Akira. I know you have many questions for me. Where would you like to begin?”
I find that my mind has suddenly gone blank because I have too many questions, and I don’t know where to start. I finally settle on the one I am the most nervous about, save her actually telling me that my magic somehow belongs to someone else. “What do I have to do?” Proud of how steady I keep my voice I mentally give myself a pat on the back.
“I thought that might be your first question. Let me put your mind at ease child, there is no great trial to pass, and it will not hurt. I will simply place my hands on either side of your lovely face and look into your beautiful soul, and we shall see everything you need to learn in order to move forward in your journey.”
I am thankful the process will be easy, though her words seem cryptic and full of mystery and, frankly, right now I am not the biggest fan of mysteries. I take a deep breath and ask, “Can we just do this now?” I want to get it out of the way. I’m a rip off the band aid kind of girl, and I have spent far too long agonizing over every possible scenario.
She smiles wide and nods. The guys stand to give us some privacy, but Akira shakes her head. “She will need you near during the reading. Your being present will also allow me to read the bond.” The guys look surprised but take their seats once again. “Are you ready, child?”
“As I’ll ever be I suppose.” I nod my head and take a deep breath. I tuck my hair behind my ears then Akira cradles my face. It feels intimate and slightly awkward, but I close my eyes and roll with it. I begin to feel this warmth, like sunlight, start in my belly and move up to my head. The feeling reminds me of my fireworks show that night at the gym except this feels safe and warm, not tainted with fear. I see flashes of images, but they move too fast for me to hang onto, and then she’s releasing my face. I slowly open my eyes to find hers beaming into mine. I smile tentatively. “So….” I trail off because I can’t think of a single thing to say.
She puts me out of my misery and offers me a single line that changes my world forever, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Highness.”
The guys shift slightly at her words, and I blurt out before I can think better of it, “Are you shitting me? Are you sure this hasn’t been some crazy misfire of magic? I can’t be a princess!” My words tumble out in a rush, and I feel my panic rising at the thought of being the lost princess.
She smiles kindly and reaches out to take my hand. “Child, I did not need the reading to know you are the lost princess. I had only to look at the mark you and your Chosen bear. But yes, I am sure.”
Nakoa’s voice is filled with confusion as he asks, “We thought anyone of royal lineage could mark a Chosen. What makes this mark different?” He gestures to the mark on his wrist and leans forward, puzzlement on his face. I’m still back processing the whole ‘Your Highness’ thing and couldn’t care less about the damn mark.
“The mark can only be bestowed by a queen, or one who is the rightful heir to the throne. It has been hundreds of years since a Chosen mark has been given, a century before the eldest among you first walked this earth.”
“But Queen Isadora has her Chosen, and she only took the throne after Kenna’s mother was killed twenty years ago,” Callum’s eyes are filled with disbelief as he questions Akira.
“Isadora does indeed surround herself with those she chooses,” Akira’s words cryptic once again. “Take heed, for only by the mark will the true heir be known.”
“Are you saying Queen Isadora does not bear the mark?” If Nakoa leaned forward any further in his seat he’d be on the floor.
“Isadora bears many marks.” Again, she maddeningly avoids answering the question directly. While Nakoa chews on her answer she turns back to me, “None of this could have been an accident child. I know it is difficult to take in, but trust in your magic, and trust in the bond with your men, they will see you through.”
I shake my head trying to clear it and am finally able to ask, “So why is my magic only just now showing up?”
She leans back in her chair, setting her wrinkled hands in her lap, before she says, “Your magic was bound when you were a child. I know not who, nor why, but when you were bound it covered any trace of your magic. It has only begun to wake from its slumber, but the spark that started it all was your men. They were the key to igniting your magic.”
I let my eyes wander to each of my guys as I think of our bond, and what it all means. I surprise myself at how natural it feels to think of them as mine. I drag my eyes back to Akira before I ask, “Could I have been bound because my magic was dangerous?” Thinking of the accusatory words written on the picture.
“You, my child, are something we have not seen in a great many years, but no, I do not believe your magic to be dangerous. Wild and powerful yes but not dangerous. You are a descendant of both the goddess Hemera and of the goddess Gaia. A great destiny lies ahead of you.”
I find myself once again at a loss for words, and I always have something to say. It takes me a moment before I am able to ask, “I’m a descendan
t of Hemera and Gaia? I was a terrible theology student, so, ah, who were they again?”
Callum turns to me in answer, “Hemera is the goddess of the day and of light, and Gaia is the goddess of the earth.”
“Your man is correct. Your father was a descendant of Hemera and your mother a descendant of Gaia,” she pauses, and I work to keep up. “As a descendant of Gaia your mother possessed strong Earth magic and the ability to read the essences of others. As a descendant of Hemera your father possessed extraordinarily strong Fire magic. You have inherited magic from both parents, which is not unusual. What is unusual is the sheer number of magical traits you have been given. You are already aware of your affinities for not only Earth but Fire as well,” she pauses and tips her head in my direction in acknowledgement of my understanding before continuing, “but the extent of your goddess given gifts will be made known when your magic is free of its cage. When your magic is fully unbound, trained, and unleashed you will be able to perform magic we have not seen in centuries.”
Fourteen
Kenna
I abruptly stand and stammer out an apology, telling her I need a break then rush outside. I walk until I’m surrounded by a copse of trees near the cottage. I pace as I think about the world shattering news I’ve just received. I don’t have even the faintest idea of how to process any of it let alone how to proceed. I realize then that I’m talking out loud to myself again, which I do all too often. Frankly though, I don’t care because seriously who is going to hear me out here?
This all feels so much bigger even than finding out I had magic. I’m. The. Fucking. Princess. I have so many questions I feel as though my brain is going to explode. Holy. Shit. I struggle to bring an image of Queen Rayna, gods, my mother, to mind. I’ve seen pictures of her frequently but never truly payed attention. If I am the princess then how the heck did I end up in the foster system? Why do I have no memories before six years old? Are the loss of my memories and the binding of my magic related? How did I escape the same fate as my mother and her Chosen?
I have a mother and a father. I’m not a nobody from nowhere. I might not understand what brought me here, but what I do know is I was loved. This thought sends a shockwave through me. I was loved. I let that single thought come to rest in this jagged heart of mine.
Turning my attention from this new heart altering revelation I look to the other monumental news items I learned. Drowning in questions, I attempt to bring it down to the basics in order to make some kind of plan easier. First, I am the princess, which is weird as fuck, so I need to figure out what to do with that knowledge. I can’t simply waltz into the palace and shout to the rafters, ‘honey I’m home,’ and not expect them to cart me off to the looney bin. Alright, first task what to do about being a princess. Should be no problem, easy peasy. I scoff at the thought and move on.
Second, I have got to figure out when the binding on my magic will finally break? Or, what I need to do in order to release it? Third, and currently last, not that the first two were not major or anything, I have to figure out how this royal Chosen bond really works, and what it means for all of us.
The panic is beginning to subside now that I have sorted out my oh so easy to do list, and I let a breath out with a whoosh. I hear a crack, and I look up to find Nakoa leaning casually against a tree a few feet away. Exactly how long has he been there? How much did he hear of everything I was just ranting about? His face is carefully neutral, so it’s hard to tell, but if I had to bet, he heard every word. I flush and try to appear super casual, although let’s be real, I’m not fooling anyone. “Exactly how much of that did you hear?”
Nakoa
As I follow Kenna out of the cottage my mind whirls with what this news means, and I begin to think through all of the ways her life, and ours, is going to change because of the new security she’ll need as princess. Although I can see her now, telling us all to fuck off when we try to talk security. I smile at the picture and at the fact that she’s ours. Her magic chose us. This misfit band of guys doing our best to make a difference.
Protecting Kenna will be a full-time job, so I wonder who we’ll need to put in charge of the company? Kenna will need to give up her job, and soon. I’m sure she’ll love that, especially given how much she fought us on it before. The urgency I feel regarding Kenna leaving her job was made exceedingly worse with the threat she received last night. Callum and I were on guard duty, but somehow we both missed seeing whoever left the letter. It made me wonder if the person had Guard training because it is the only explanation I can think of as to why we would have missed them.
The fear in Kenna’s voice when she called twisted my gut, and it took everything inside me not to simply knock on the door that moment. We didn’t tell Kenna that we were guarding her for a reason, she would have freaked the fuck out. So if I knocked on her door right after she called I would have had to explain why we were there so fast. So I watched the clock, and the moment it ticked to five minutes I knocked. I wanted to gather her in my arms when she opened the door, but I had to content myself with visually making sure she was unharmed. My blood turned to ice when Kenna said the picture was taken at work that day, and I silently demanded an explanation from Callum. How the fuck did he or Luka not catch this?
I’m drawn out of my musings when I hear Kenna talking. It instantly has me on alert, and I silently creep forward to see who she is talking to. I barely bite back my laugh when I see Kenna pacing back and forth, rambling to herself. Loudly. I shake my head and smile at this beautiful, passionate woman. As I listen to her process the results of the reading I find myself wishing desperately that I could answer her questions, but we are in the dark as much as she is. When she starts talking about being loved by her parents I feel utterly shocked that she finds this knowledge so incredibly huge. It makes me wonder what this beautiful fiery woman has gone through in her short life to make her feel this way.
I have to bite back a laugh at the picture she paints of storming the castle. She rants for a bit longer, and when it seems as though she’s wrapping up I decide to make myself known. I let a twig snap under my boot and her head flies up, and I am instantly caught in her sapphire gaze.
She flushes with embarrassment and asks, “Exactly how much of that did you hear?” Her raised eyebrow daring me to answer.
I laugh and respond, “Oh, most of it. Do you always talk to yourself?”
“Frequently, as a matter of fact.” She laughs lightly at her words. She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and plops down on a log. “Well that was a bit overwhelming.”
I move over to sit next to her and respond with a raised brow and a shrug, “Just a little.” She chuckles and bumps her shoulder against mine, and even that brief touch leaves me wanting more. We sit in comfortable silence for a while before I ask, “Well Firefly, are you ready to head back inside? Maybe get some of that to do list checked off?”
She huffs out a laugh over my use of her earlier words and gives me a small smile. We stand and make it a few steps before she abruptly stops. “Nakoa, I feel so lost. I thought I had my life figured out, and I worked hard for that life. Now it’s all been turned upside down not once, but twice.” Her chest is rapidly rising and falling with her heightened emotions.
“I can’t imagine what you are feeling right now, but I do know you are a fighter in every way, and you will find a way to build a life you want out of the ashes you are standing in.” She’s quiet as her eyes examine my face, and as the silence stretches I’m not sure if she is going to respond to my words or not, but then she surprises me when she throws her arms around me and hugs me tight. I am caught by surprise, so it takes a beat for me to react before I wrap one arm around her back, and I cup the back of her head with the other and simply hold her as she cries. Her tears fall silently, and I don’t offer platitudes of how it’s going to all be alright. I just hold her.
Eventually, her tears slow, and she eases away looking slightly bashful. She mutters something along the li
nes of an apology, but before she can take a step I stop her with a hand under her chin, tipping her face up until her red rimmed eyes meet mine and say, “You never have to apologize for or be ashamed of crying.” She gives me a weak smile and a small nod, but I have a feeling we will be having this conversation again sometime soon. I bump her shoulder and give her a smile before we walk towards the small cottage, and the answers waiting for us there.
Kenna
We walk the rest of the way in silence, each wrapped in our own thoughts. I can’t remember the last time I cried in front of a guy, though I suppose life altering news would make anyone cry regardless of who is near. When we enter the cottage I give a weak smile to the rest of the room, knowing full well that my face is red and splotchy, and they will l know I’ve been crying. I decide to pretend nothing happened and sit back down in my spot.
“So, I have some more questions about where to go from here,” I say softly.
She pats my hand and smiles kindly. “I am sure you do. Go on then, what would you like to ask?”
I start with item number one on my lovely to-do list. “Now that I know I’m the princess, what am I supposed to do?”
Her face turns serious, and when she speaks I know magic is at work from the tingle I feel in the air, “You must not tell anyone of your lineage. It is not safe yet, but you will know when the time is right.” The tingle fades, and I am left with the thought of ‘by Hades’ once again. The guys went from relaxing back in their seats to alert at her words.