by Meg Anne
“What happened?” she asked, licking her cracked lips.
Kael’s smile was sad. “You were very brave.”
“She was very stupid,” Lucian corrected from somewhere out of sight.
“If you’re going to be an asshole, then you should leave,” Kieran said.
Effie’s lips twitched. “Looks like things are back to normal.”
Her eyes felt heavy, but she fought the urge to close them.
Kael’s smile warmed a fraction, but still didn’t touch his eyes as he brushed a piece of hair off her forehead. “As much as they can be.”
Effie tried to lift her hand to his face. “Why do you look so sad?”
“You scared me, little warrior.”
“I scared you? How?”
“I thought we’d lost you.” The hand near her face brushed along the sensitive skin connecting her neck and top of her shoulder. “You’ll have a scar. The healers couldn’t do anything about the damage the acid had already caused.”
Something Ronan said came back to her, and Effie smiled again. “A real warrior carries their scars with pride. It’s a reminder that they fought and lived.”
“As they should,” Kael said with a smile.
Lucian and Kieran remained suspiciously silent.
Twisting her head, she found their grim faces. “I’m sorry if I scared you as well.”
“You have no reason to apologize,” Kieran said, his eyes lingering on Kael’s face before returning to hers. “It is good to see you looking well again.”
She lifted her eyes back to Lucian. His arms were crossed, and his brows were low over his eyes.
Effie tried not to let her hurt show when it became clear he had nothing to say to her. “Has anyone sent word to Helena about the Shadows and how they . . .” she trailed off.
“Are now walking, talking corpses?” Kieran offered.
Effie nodded.
“No, we were waiting to see for ourselves that you would wake.”
Her cheeks heated and she looked away, embarrassed that she’d kept them from their duty.
“I’ll write to her. She’s probably annoyed I haven’t sent her anything yet.”
“We’ll make sure it finds its way to her.”
Effie nodded and pushed herself into more of a seated position. “So, what now?”
“What do you mean?” Kieran asked.
“Now that we know what’s out there, what do we do?”
“We cleanse the land,” Lucian said, as if it was obvious.
“How will we know where to find them?” she asked.
“Their corruption leaves a stain. It will be easy enough to track now that we know what to look for,” Kael answered.
“Do you know how to cleanse it?” she asked, looking between the three men.
“Not yet,” Lucian said.
“Helena might. She’s done it before.”
Lucian dipped his chin. “It would be helpful to know what she did.”
“I can ask when I send my letter.”
Pushing away from the wall, Lucian headed to the door. “I’ll bring you some paper.”
Her eyes tracked his movement across the room and out the door. “He’s angry with me,” she whispered.
“He’s angry with himself,” Kael corrected.
“As he should be. The bastard almost got her killed.”
Effie hadn’t stopped to think. When she’d seen Lucian heading toward the Shadow Fire, she’d just reacted. It didn’t matter what happened to her. She wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things. Not compared to one of the Guardians.
Frowning, she stared at the door, her emotions a jumbled mess inside of her.
“He’ll get over it,” Kael said, pushing to his feet. “Someone should tell the Triumvirate that you’re awake. I’ll see you later, little warrior.”
Effie squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Kael.”
He winked at her and slipped out of the room.
Turning to Kieran, Effie froze at the chill against the back of her neck. Her hand reached up, surprised to feel skin instead of the heavy weight of her curls.
“What happened to my hair?” she asked, more stunned than upset.
Kieran cleared his throat. “The acid burned most of it away along the left side. We, um . . . we cut it for you.”
Fingering the shorn curls, Effie humphed.
“Do you want to see?” Kieran asked.
Curious, she nodded. For as long as she could remember, her hair had been a wall to hide behind. Something to protect her from the sneers and stares of those that belittled her.
Kieran grabbed a mirror from the table and moved to stand beside her. He held it up and a woman she almost didn’t recognize stared back at her.
Without the bulk of hair, the angles of her face were sharper. She no longer looked quite so childlike, even with the smattering of freckles along her nose and cheeks, or with her wide eyes.
Instead of falling down to the base of her spine, her hair now fell just to the bottom of her jaw. Smiling, she pulled a curl back behind her ear and pushed the mirror away.
“I think I like it.”
Kieran returned her grin, his gaze warm. “It suits you.”
There was a sharp knock on the door and Lucian walked in holding out some parchment and writing tools for her. He placed them on the foot of her bed. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you.”
He glanced up at her, his expression unreadable. “You should get some rest.”
“I’m not tired.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he didn’t fight her. Instead, he looked at Kieran. “Take care of her. You know how stubborn she can be when it comes to taking care of herself.”
Kieran nodded. “That I do.”
“I’m right here, you know.”
Without another glance, Lucian left the room.
Effie threw a pillow at the door.
“What was that for?”
“He’s a pain in my ass.”
Kieran snorted.
“Seriously, the way he’s acting you’d think I’m the one who tried to kill him, not save him. He’s infuriating.”
Her display of temper only seemed to amuse Kieran.
“So are you,” she said with a scowl.
“Me? What did I do?”
“You know what you did.”
He lifted his brow, arms crossed over his chest. “I’ve been a perfect gentleman.”
“But for how long?”
Kieran leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Too long.”
“Rogue.”
Kieran winked. “Brat.”
Effie chuckled and tried to make herself more comfortable. Her body ached and she couldn’t keep the grimace from her face.
“They left you some tea for the pain.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want medicine. It’s just going to make me sleepy. I’d rather have some wine. It will dull the edge but let me stay mostly alert.”
“I can make that happen.”
“Excellent.”
“Be right back.”
Once she was alone, Effie eyed the ivory scraps of paper near her feet.
Wetting the nib of the quill, she began writing.
Kiri,
Frowning, Effie bit her lip and crossed out the title. Knowing Helena would get a kick out of it—having corrected Effie’s formal use of her title instead of her name more than once—she started again:
Kiri,
Helena,
I hope this letter finds you well. I apologize that it has taken me so long to write to you. To be honest, I started more than once, but wasn’t sure what I could tell you that wouldn’t bore you to tears. Somehow, I don’t think you’ll be very interested in hearing about my daily sessions with my tutor (which is how I spent the bulk of my days until recently).
But I digress. I’ve had a vision—a warning. The war is not over.
Rowena may be dead (congratulations, by the
way. I can’t wait to hear about how you managed it, even though I wish I could have been there to see it for myself) but the remnants of her corruption linger. The Shadows are still alive, and they have evolved. They can talk and seem to have regained the use of their individual power.
There’s no telling what else is out there, but according to Lucian (my Guardian—think Ronan on his worst day after a night of drinking and you might have an idea of what he’s like) Rowena’s corrupted Spirit magic is still strong within them. Worse, and perhaps more importantly, the corruption is also affecting the land.
I haven’t experienced it myself but based on the way it was described to me, it sounds like what we experienced in the Forest of Whispers. Lucian said the land must be cleansed, but no one knows how.
If it’s not too much trouble, I think we could use your help. I’m sure that you are too busy to come yourself, but even a letter explaining how we can cleanse it would be appreciated. I fear what could happen if it grows unchecked . . .
At the very least, I thought you should know what’s out there. Sooner or later it will find you, and I didn’t want you to be caught unaware.
Please tell the others that I miss them, and I hope they are taking a much-needed break after all that they must have endured. That includes you.
Until we meet again, may the Mother watch over you,
Your friend,
Effie
Chapter 30
Effie giggled as she stumbled down the hall. Kieran had left her hours ago with the order to get some rest, but she was feeling restless, and not ready to see what might find her in her dreams. After finding a proper pair of pants and a tunic and vest not stained with blood and gore, she polished off the rest of the bottle of wine he’d brought her and went on a mission to find another one.
She hoisted the bottle of pale pink alcohol higher and grinned. It wasn’t wine, but it would do. Giving the hall a furtive scan, Effie uncorked the bottle and took a quick gulp before tucking her prize back under her arm and making her way back to her room. There wasn’t any reason she could think of why anyone would care if she drank herself silly—she more than earned it after the day she’d had—but she also didn’t want to risk someone trying to take it from her.
“What are you doing out of bed?”
Effie froze. Mother’s heaving tits. Spinning around, she tried to hide the bottle behind her back.
But this was Lucian and he missed nothing.
His eyes narrowed and he glared at her. “Blood loss and alcohol, Effie? Good choice.”
She returned his glare with one of her own. “I’m a grown woman. I can do whatever I want.”
It would have sounded better if she hadn’t hiccupped.
“Hand it over.”
“No, it’s mine.”
“Effie, don’t make me come over there and take it.”
Her stomach warmed at the thought. The idea of Lucian stalking toward her and crowding her body with his was exactly what she wanted.
Effie waved the bottle over her head. “You want it? Come and get it.”
She spun away and started to run, but she only made it a handful of teetering steps before he was on her.
“You’re acting like a child,” he snarled, snatching the bottle out of her hands and throwing it down the hall. It shattered and Effie pouted.
“Now look what you’ve done.”
Lucian had managed to twist her around when he grabbed the bottle, and her back was pressed against one of the walls. There was barely an inch separating their bodies. She could see his nostrils flare with each angry breath he took.
“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“Who shoved that stick up your ass?” she asked.
If she’d been in her right mind, she never would have said it. She would have been horrified at the thought alone, but all Effie was feeling right now was that deliciously warm tingle working its way through her body.
Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “How much have you had to drink?”
Effie shrugged. Just the better part of a bottle of wine . . . and a few sips of pink deliciousness.
“Damn it, Effie.”
“Damn it, Effie,” she parroted in her best I-am-Lucian-hear-me-roar impression.
Lucian pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “Millennia spent wandering the realms and you are going to be the thing that finally kills me.”
Hurt stabbed at her and Effie blinked back angry tears. She knew she’d mouthed off to him, but she couldn’t be such an annoyance to have deserved a comment like that. Not when she risked her own life trying to save his.
“You’re a real ass, you know that? It was a long day. Mother’s tits, it’s been a long week, and all I wanted was something to take the edge off. Why do you”—she poked him—“get to tell me what I’m allowed to do or not do?”
He glanced down at her finger and then back up at her face. “You have a habit of poking me.”
“You have a habit of being a bossy asshole.”
Lucian snickered. “You enjoy swearing.”
“When the occasion calls for it.” She narrowed her eyes as a new thought occurred. “Are you going to tell me it’s not ladylike? Because so help me—”
Lucian pressed his fingers to her lips. “Shh. Stand down, fledgling.”
His voice had lost its edge and Effie couldn’t think past the warm pressure of his fingers pressed against her lips. The impulse to nip them was hard to resist, but he moved before she could give in to it.
He leaned down until his eyes were level with hers. “Believe it or not, it is not my life’s mission to make you miserable.”
Effie’s instinct was to snort and roll her eyes, but she was transfixed by the sincerity shining in Lucian’s dark gaze, so she remained still.
“What, no comeback?” he asked, his warm breath fanning over her face.
There was something about his playful smirk that made her think he was actually a bit disappointed. When you were built like he was, it was probably a pretty rare occurrence that someone actually stood up to you.
Effie quirked a brow. “I was waiting to see where you were trying to go with that emotionally stunted excuse for an apology.”
“Is that what it was?” he asked, his voice still a low rumble.
“Wasn’t it?” she teased.
He chuckled and looked away, shaking his head. “What am I going to do with you?”
“You could try kissing me.” The words were out of her mouth before she realized she’d said them out loud.
Heat bloomed in her cheeks as Lucian’s head snapped back to her. It was the first time she’d ever seen him look stunned.
“What did you say?”
“Um,” she mumbled, licking her lips nervously.
There was no getting out of it.
The words were out there now, and she couldn’t take them back. More importantly, she didn’t want to.
She didn’t know where the suggestion had come from. She hadn’t ever consciously thought of Lucian as more than the person who knew how to get under her skin better than anyone else. But now that the image had taken hold of her mind, she couldn’t let it go. Crowded as he was around her, she was more aware of herself as a woman than she’d ever been. For once she didn’t feel small or insignificant . . . and she really, really liked it.
Heart pounding, Effie forced herself not to look away. “I said, you could kiss me,” she murmured in a throaty tone she didn’t recognize.
“Effie,” he breathed, her name sounding like a strangled groan. Lucian dropped his head until his forehead rested on hers. “We can’t.”
He sounded tormented.
Effie lifted her hand and rested it against the scruff of his cheek, pressing lightly until he met her gaze. “Says who?”
“I’m a Guardian, and you are very drunk . . .”
Effie grinned. “You know how I feel about stupid rules.”
Lifting her chin, she guided his face down to hers and brushed he
r lips against his. It was the first time she’d ever been the aggressor, and the feeling of power rolling through her was as intoxicating as the wine.
Lucian practically vibrated with tension as her lips moved over his. For one terrible second, Effie thought he wasn’t going to kiss her back.
But he did.
Mother, how he did.
He growled low in his throat, his hands coming up to cradle either side of her face as he pressed against her. The heat of his body along the front of her and the cool stone at her back only fueled her desire.
His lips were hot and hard against hers, a silent demand she was more than happy to answer.
Effie’s knees went weak as his tongue slid against hers. Liquid heat pooled in her belly, and she lifted to her tiptoes to try to get closer to the source of her pleasure. The unconscious move caused her chest to rub against him, and the delicious friction made her moan.
Lucian froze, his breath leaving him in ragged bursts.
“Effie . . .”
“Shh, don’t stop,” she whispered, trying to kiss him again.
He turned his face away. “Effie, don’t.”
“You’re trying to tell me what to do again,” she teased, trailing kisses along his neck.
She felt his throat bob beneath her lips.
“I’d be taking advantage of you.”
Effie pulled back with a laugh. “Taking advantage of me? How is that possible when it’s what I want?”
He wouldn’t look at her. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you want.”
Ice replaced the desire in her veins.
“And you do?” she snapped, running her hands along her arms to alleviate some of the chill.
He glanced at her and quickly looked away, but not before she saw the barely banked heat there. He wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be. It should have made a difference, but the sting of his rejection was intensified by the alcohol that she’d consumed. The only truth that mattered was she’d offered herself to him, and he’d turned her down.
Old pains resurfaced and she stumbled away from him.
Simple, ungifted Effie. Not good enough to love. Not good enough to fuck.