by May Dawson
“I received the communications,” Radner says without looking up from her desk when I enter. “You didn’t need to portal back to talk to me.”
“I needed to talk to you without risk of interception.”
She folds her hands on her desk. When she finally looks at me with her cool blue eyes, I feel the full weight of her gaze. Now I need to be cleverer than the woman who taught me almost everything I know.
“What is it, Airren?”
I stand at the end of her desk, tucking one hand into my pocket. There’s no point in forcing myself to sit despite the restless energy that sweeps through me constantly. She can read me better than that.
“What is the Crown’s plan for Tera Donovan?” Not the prince, but his father.
“You want to make sure she isn’t killed?”
“Yes.”
“You’re too fond of her.”
“Yes,” I admit, my voice steady. Might as well be honest with her. It’s the only hope she’ll be honest with me.
“I can tell you what’s come down the line in terms of orders,” she says. “The official line, all the way from the Crown, is that we are to take this as her mission. She’s gone rogue to invite the True.”
“The line from the prince.”
“Do you think the king won’t buy it?” She drums her fingertips on the tabletop. “Whether he does or not, I think he’s wise enough to his son’s foolish heart to leave Tera alive for as long as he can justify it.”
“There’d be war between the two halves of the intelligence community.”
“Do you think Rian would start a coup over a pretty girl?” she asks skeptically. “No wonder there’s little faith in the younger generations. I think the battle between old Crown and young will remain in the shadows.”
“To be fair, the younger generations have serious questions about the old.”
Her amusement is palpable. It strikes me that we’re in the same room that started us on this mission. Except then, I was near the windows, trying to herd my unruly team out of here before they could get themselves into trouble.
“You didn’t come straight here,” she said. “You took the portal back into this building and then left. Why?”
Of course she would know. I was stupid to hope she wouldn’t.
“I needed time to gather my thoughts.”
“Bullshit.” Her lips arch. “You’re nothing if not sure of yourself. I doubt this girl has robbed you of your competence.”
My fingertips, in my pocket, brush against my insignia. I’m carrying my commission, the Captain’s shield insignia that I fought wars to earn.
“Why?” she asks again.
Slowly, I draw it out of my pocket.
She sighs when she sees it.
“Melodramatic boy,” she says. “You came here to threaten me with your resignation? You had to dig that out of your dresser from beneath your socks so you were ready to throw that on my desk?”
“I keep it in my desk drawer, actually.”
“You want to protect her,” she says. “You don’t want to move on to the next mission now that you’ve completely ruined this one.”
“No.” There’s no point arguing with her. I have mismanaged the asset. That is the cold, hard truth any spy would have to acknowledge to begin to repair their mistakes.
But I’ve made far worse mistakes in the last few months. I’ve hurt the girl I love.
She glances away. “Where’s she gone?”
“Her father’s old castle.”
“Foolish girl,” she mutters. There’s no way the locals will take kindly to her presence. “Do you really think you can draw her in again?”
“Yes.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t see a happy ending here, Airren.”
“I don’t either,” I say. “But I have a job to do. She can still be useful to the Crown.”
“You’re lying to me or to yourself,” she says. “It’s hard to tell which.”
“It is absolutely true that she can be useful,” I say. “It’s just also true that I love her, and I want to protect her.”
“You can’t fall in love with an asset.”
“I realize that.” Mistakes were made. Perhaps Radner and I would not agree about what those mistakes were. “But here we are.”
“Here we are.” She rakes her hand through her hair. “If the King’s men did come to kill her, you’d cause an incident.”
“To be fair, I’ve caused a lot of incidents so far in my career, and for worse causes.”
“And if I refuse to let you go and watch over her,” she says, “you’re going to throw that insignia very dramatically on my desk. And your wand, too? What were you imagining in your head?”
“I was imagining that we have worked together for a long time, and that you’d trust me.”
She snorted. “I did, up until you lost your damn mind over a girl.”
I toss the insignia in my hand and catch it again, feigning nonchalance I don’t feel. She’s right; I’m trying to lie to both of us.
“Fine,” she says. “Go. Protect her. Watch over her.”
I stare at her, certain that it can’t be this easy.
“But this is my price,” she says. “You don’t resign your commission, no matter what comes next. You protect Tera Donovan, but in the end, if she turns evil, if she can’t be redeemed and used…you promise me that in the end, you’re a spy, not a lovesick puppy.”
“You have my word.”
I never said those words to Tera. I should have.
I know Tera won’t turn to the True, no matter how desperate and hurt she is now, so this promise doesn’t matter. She’s a better person than I am, and even I can be loyal to the side of good, no matter what twisted things I might have done in its service.
Radner dismisses me, her movements jerky as if she’s still irritated even though she cares for me enough to force me to stay. I slip my insignia back into my pocket, say good night to her stiffly, pretending not to see her anger, and walk out into the empty hallway.
Tonight, I gave Radner my word that my highest loyalty was to the Crown.
Tonight, for the first time, I lied to her.
When I head down the steps of the building, my steps quick and purposeful even though I have no idea where to go while I cool off, the last of the sunlight is dying beyond the ridge of the mountain, and the sky above is already dark. Most of the windows in the buildings are dim, with only the occasional light burning. The students have all left for break, if they have a family to go to. The campus feels abandoned.
Mycroft is on his mission now. He’s avoiding Cax, even though the two of us could comfort each other. Tera, wherever she is, is alone.
I walk the lonely campus, turning off the cool metal insignia in my hand in my pocket, until the metal warms against my palm.
I thought I wanted that commission, this life, my work more than anything else.
For some reason, I think of the night that I discovered Cax and Mycroft both kissing Tera. They held her body between theirs, their hands roaming the shape of her curves. Tera had leaned against Cax’s shoulder, her dark gold hair vivid against his tanned shoulder, and Mycroft had trapped her mouth with his. Part of me had stirred then, longing to join them, to lose myself.
I could have given up my ego, and chosen the three people I love most in this world.
Instead, I destroyed the bonds between us.
If none of them ever wanted to look at me again, I’d understand that.
But Tera is alone somewhere, and so are they. I’ll watch over her—I’ll watch over them too—as much as I can. Until I know Tera is safe and happy.
Even if she’s safe and happy without me.
Chapter 39
Tera
The house still stands.
When I reach the stone wall that marks the edge of the property where I grew up, it blocks my view of the sea. That sea has comforted me, the endless rush of the tide against the beach, intractable and
wild, as I ride swiftly along the shore, my dragon’s weight curled along the back of my neck. No matter what happens to me, the sun will still shine on the ocean, and the tide will flow in and out.
Nature doesn’t give a damn about our fates. I wish I was as cold as she is, but maybe I will be in time.
For now, my restless mind keeps turning back to the men I left behind. I can’t stop thinking about Airren’s arms caging me against the wall, his lips on my throat as he devoured me with his kisses, and the way I laughed delightedly even as I throbbed with desire for him, pressing myself against him, giving myself to him entirely…
Fool.
Or how long I stayed in that room with Cax earlier tonight, arguing with him. I could have forced his hand and gotten him to open the door for me. There was nothing he could have said to persuade me to forgive them, right then, and yet I’d been reluctant to leave. The memory of his gaze on my face and the pain written across his face will stay with me… even though I’m the one who was betrayed.
Ridiculous fool.
Or Mycroft’s strange, cold affection: slipping his wand into my backpack when I needed one and pretending it was nothing, stopping time itself to save my pride in front of class when I was bullied, patiently teaching me to fight. He’d offer me something, and then, once he knew I was cared for, he’d pull away. Gifts born out of guilt.
The stupidest of fools.
All the signs had been there for me to put together, and yet I’d wanted so badly to love and to be loved. Heat flushes my cheeks and I squeeze my knees unthinkingly into the flanks of my unicorn. She leaps forward beneath me, rushing even faster through the cold night air that stings my eyes. The wind feels like a slap.
The stone wall ends in a wrought-iron gate, and beneath it, beyond the barren trees that line the long stone drive, the spires of the house rise into the sky.
I pat the neck of my unicorn and slide off. The gates of the house are closed with ropes of chain, with multiple locks. Someone’s been quite dramatic. When I run my hands across the locks, I can feel the enchantments prickling at my skin. Anxiety makes my pulse rocket. The magic on the warded gates create almost a compulsion to back away from the gates, to ride on elsewhere.
But I have a) nowhere else to go, and b) a lockpicking kit. So I will not be so easily deterred.
I look up and down the road to make sure I’m still alone, and then kneel at the gate, resting my shoulder against the metal gate to help steady my hands. Penny sits across from me, her tail curled around her feet, watching me with her strange, bright eyes.
The unicorn shakes her head impatiently, dancing from hoof to hoof, as if the magic here bothers her too. Maybe she can feel the darkness coming from the house. But even so, she stays.
The metal locks are cold against my skin. It takes me an hour to work each lock slowly loose. By the time I’m done, my hands are cramping.
I release the locks, unwind the chains, drop them at my feet.
I’m coming home.
When I push open the gate, it doesn’t move.
Magic seals metal against metal, intractable. I stop, squeezing my eyes shut, my finger still wrapped around the cold bars. The sound of my heart pounding against my chest is so loud I can barely hear myself think.
After all this time, my father’s locks must stand on the door, keeping me out. I used to be able to unlock this enchantment easily. But that was when I had a child’s magic. Now, I’m nothing.
The True promised that if I went home, my magic would be restored.
My mother, or someone seeking to control me, told me the same thing.
And Devlin did too.
They’re not a particular trustworthy crew, but here we are.
I draw Mycroft’s wand and raise it, backing up from the gate. As long as it’s been since I was home last, I still know the words of the spell to open the gate.
“Donovans walk the wild without fear, knowing our wits carry us far and near. Whatever danger I may roam, when the night falls, welcome me home.”
My father was as terrible a poet as he was a human being.
Still, when I say the same ridiculous words that I said so many times as a kid, I expect the gates to swing open. Or at least shake.
Nothing happens.
The wind blows around me, rifling my hair, making me feel even more small and stupid than I did before. I bite down on my lip, staring at the distant, empty house though the bars.
And then, suddenly, my knees go weak.
As I stumble forward, a rogue blast of magic flares out from my wand and surges against the gates.
The black gates fly open in front of me. I fall on my knees in the dirt and gravel, landing just inside the gates. The wand rolls away from me as I catch myself.
I stare down at the dirt between my hands, knowing I’ve just scraped the palms of my hands bloody. My knees sting and the heels of my hands sting so badly that I can barely catch my breath.
“Welcome home, sweet girl.”
When I look up, I expect to see my mother.
It’s the ghost of my father smiling down at me.
The story continues in Four Kinds of Cursed, available on Amazon.
Also by May Dawson
The Wild Angels & Hunters Series:
Wild Angels
Fierce Angels
Dirty Angels
Chosen Angels
Ashley Landon, Bad Medium
Dead Girls Club
The True and the Crown series:
One Kind of Wicked
Two Kinds of Damned
Three Kinds of Lost
Four Kinds of Cursed (August 2019)
Five Kinds of Love (August 2019)
Their Shifter Princess:
Their Shifter Princess
Their Shifter Princess 2: Pack War
Their Shifter Princess 3: Coven’s Revenge
Their Shifter Academy:
Their Shifter Academy: A Prequel Novell
Their Shifter Academy 1: Unwanted (August 22, 2019)
A Note From May
Hello, and thank you for reading.
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~May
About the Author
May Dawson’s first crush was Indiana Jones, and it wasn’t just for Harrison Ford’s rugged good looks. She’s always been drawn to adventure, and she found it in Bali and the Antarctic, traveling widely before she settled down to raise two red-haired munchkins/hooligans. These days you can find her embracing a very different kind of adventure: love. Living it. Writing it.
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