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by Riana Lucas

  Reed steps closer, opening his mouth to speak. I hold my hand up to stop him. I know what he is feeling, what he is thinking. His fear that Damien is right is strong, but I do not have that same fear. I know what the unclaimed want. Damien could never come close to offering them their sanity again. And there is nothing in this or any world even close to what this is worth to them.

  Skye looks at me, I look at him. He slowly smiles. It is a cruel and evil smile, one only an unclaimed can pull off so well. Damien smiles as well, thinking he has won. He turns back to look at me, opening his mouth to boast no doubt. He does not get the chance. Skye knocks him to his knees with his free hand. Damien sprawls to the ground, barely able to keep from falling on his face. He looks up at me in disbelief.

  “Again, you were saying?”

  It takes him a moment to come up with something else, but he is smart and conniving, so it does not take long. “So what now? You will kill me when the odds are so much more in your favor? An unfair fight? What honor is there in that?” I can hear the calculation in his voice. He thinks he will get me on pride, but that is where the difference in us comes in. I am not too proud to kill someone while they are on their knees before me, not when they deserve it.

  I hear Holly snort behind me. I feel exactly the same way. “Honor?” I ask him in disbelief. “Who are you to speak of honor? You have none. You never have. The king did not either. Killing innocents for nothing but the pure joy it? Watching others suffer while both of you bask in the riches and pleasure you stole from them? There is no honor in any of that.” My hand slices through the air in disgust. “You do not even know what honor is.”

  “Ah, there you are wrong. I do know. I also know that you, Poppy, have honor. This is not something you can do. You have the blood of the Seelie in you, the goodness that your mother has taught you. The guilt will eat at you until you feel like you want to die. You cannot kill an unarmed faery that is on his knees before you, begging for his life. That would be murder.” I almost find it laughable that he thinks he can play me this way, like I am so stupid that I would fall for his schemes.

  “Is that what you are doing, Damien? Are you begging me for your life? Because I have not heard one bit of remorse or pleading in your voice yet.”

  His eyes narrow and I can see him thinking. He is wondering if I would indeed spare his life if he begged. Obviously, he thinks me weak and that begging is not even needed. “I am on my knees before you, vulnerable. You cannot kill me. You do not have it in you.”

  “Ah, but that is where you are wrong, Damien.” I sheath one of my daggers, pulling the other one out to play with the blade as I speak to him. “See, I was raised by you. I have the Unseelie king’s, my father’s, blood, running through my veins. I have no problem murdering you. In fact, I think I will find nothing but pure joy in it.” By the widening of his eyes, I know that he can finally see the absolute truth in my statement. I know that there will never, ever be any regret for having Damien’s blood on my hands and he knows this too.

  A small movement by Skye catches my eye. I glance at him to see him toss Damien’s sword to the ground just in front of him. Damien looks hard at it. I can see that he is gauging his chances of retrieving it without being killed first.

  “I really would not do that if I were you.” I threaten as I step forward, grabbing the heavy sword in my hand and stepping back.

  “So now you will not only kill me with no honor, but you will use my own sword to do so?”

  I hold his sword so that I may get a good look at it. It is heavy and solid, a true warrior’s sword. The blade is thick and razor sharp, meant to deliver deadly blows. The hilt is pure gold encrusted with all sorts of jewels. I am sure that it is not only a great sword, but a valuable one as well. As I look over the sword, I weigh my options. To kill Damien with his own sword would be humiliating to him. It would serve as another blow to his ego as I killed him. The thought makes me smile.

  I look back down at him as I toss his sword to the ground once again, sure that it is out of his reach. “No, I do not think I will. I wish to kill you with my own daggers, the ones that you gifted me because they were made for me. That way every time I take them out I can remember how it felt to finally kill you.”

  As the words leave my lips, I lunge forward. Damien’s eyes widen in pure surprise just before I thrust my dagger into his chest, piercing his heart. I do not stop the motion until I have buried it to the hilt, ensuring that his heart will beat no more. I stare into his black eyes as the light leaves them and he draws his last breath. Only then do I remove my hand from the hilt of my dagger and step back.

  The silence is eerie; no one is moving or speaking. I can hear each and every fae around me as they take their breaths. I turn to look at them. Each of them is wearing a look of satisfaction on his or her face. I look at Reed. He opens his arms for me and I run into them, almost falling into him. Then all the locked-up and pushed aside emotions finally hit me. My body begins to shake, and I become weak. Reed lifts me in his arms, carrying me away from the others as he whispers words of comfort into my hair.

  10

  I must have passed out.

  One minute Reed was lifting me into his strong arms, the next I was waking up cold and alone in a bed of hay.

  The strong smell of hay and dirt, as well as horse and other stable animals, is the first thing that registers. The next is the fact that the exposed skin on my arms is itchy from the hay that I am lying in. I reach up to rub the hay off them as well as to sooth the itch as I blink my eyes rapidly; trying to wake up and focus them on what is around me.

  There is not much. Everything around me is quiet and still. I do not see Reed or any of my friends nearby, but my view is obstructed by the wooden walls of the stall that I am in. I rub my arms again as I sit up. My body feels heavy and sore, probably from exhaustion. Killing your enemy can take a lot out of you apparently. I blink the rest of the sleep from my eyes and listen harder for any sounds. I finally hear the whispered murmurs of the other fae. I cannot make out what they are saying because they are talking so softly, probably to keep from disturbing me.

  At that thought, a wave of embarrassment rushes through me. I have never passed out before. To have done so after killing Damien, and in front of my friends and warriors, is shameful. It makes me think that maybe I am weak just as Damien accused. The thought of facing my warriors after such an embarrassing episode is dreadful. I do not wish for them to think me weak or feeble. My fear that they will think just that, if not worse, keeps me firmly planted on the ground.

  I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I sit quietly on the floor replaying the events that occurred just before I passed out. The look in Damien’s eyes just before I plunged my dagger into his heart is an image that will be burned into my memory for a very long time. I know that I will never forget his face, the complete surprise on it, or my feelings of utter satisfaction at that exact moment. I also know that as much as Damien tried to mess with my head and convince me otherwise, I will never regret being the one that killed him.

  Rho’s death has been avenged as well as the heartache my mother suffered. The thought does the exact opposite of what Damien predicted. The joy I feel for avenging my mother and Rho is almost overwhelming.

  “Don’t forget about everything he did to you too.” The soft sound of Reed’s voice causes me to jerk my head up in surprise. He chuckles as he comes closer. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me coming.”

  “No.” My earlier thoughts of embarrassment and shame for passing out immediately assault me. I feel my cheeks heat and turn my face away trying to hide the pinkness that I know will be there. Of course, it is a pointless act. Reed can sense my thoughts, my feelings, and whatever else it is that I am not telling him.

  His next words prove just that. “Don’t hide from me, Poppy.” His voice is commanding but still soft. I turn to look at him once again, knowing this is what his words mean for me to do.<
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  When our eyes meet, he speaks once more. “There is nothing for you to be embarrassed over. The last few weeks have been overwhelming and exhausting for all of us. There is no shame in that. Not one of those faeries out there feels anything but pride and respect for you and what you have done here today.”

  “But—” I begin to interrupt, to disagree with his words, but he stops me.

  “No.” His voice is louder this time. I can see that he is upset with me for thinking the way I have been. “Listen to me, Poppy. You are strong, smart, courageous, and noble. You have done so much in the last few weeks. And all of it has been to help others, never once yourself. You made many promises that we both knew you shouldn’t have made but somehow managed to uphold. You came for Rho and I when you discovered we were in trouble. You befriended Willow and helped her discover that she was so much more than just a servant. You allowed your mother to get to know you and then returned her love when others may not have so quickly. You stepped up as the princess to a court you barely knew and were raised to hate, because it was the right thing to do. You trained and led an army of Seelie warriors to defeat the Unseelie court, one that has been torturing and tormenting them for years. You are a role model to younger fae, a wonderful leader to the Seelie court, and one of the best people I know.”

  “Is that all?” I ask breathlessly. Reed’s voice was so strong and sure, his eyes holding mine during his passionate speech and letting me see how much he believed every word coming out of his mouth. I know my question probably was not the right one, but I did not know what else to say. His praise and conviction were so overwhelming.

  Reed only laughs softly, shaking his head in humor. “No, that is not all. There are so many more things that you are and so many more great things that you have done, but I can’t name them all.”

  “Oh.” I am still breathless. My embarrassment and shame have completely vanished. I believe what Reed is telling me. I know that he would never lie to me and would not make things up to spare my feelings or just to make me feel better.

  “You’re right. I would never do that,” he says with a serious nod of his head.

  “Stop reading my thoughts. It is rude.” I do not know why I said this either. I cannot think straight and seem to keep blurting out what I am thinking without considering my words first.

  “Well stop blasting them to me. I can’t help it if you don’t block them.”

  I make a noise of disapproval in the back of my throat but chose not to say anything at his comment. He is right, of course, so there really is nothing to say. I place my hands on either side of myself with the intentions of standing. Before I can do that, Reed’s open palm appears in front of my face. I stop and glance up at him. He is standing over me waiting patiently for me to take his hand so that he can help me up.

  I slide my hand into his open palm, still nervous and shy when we are close like this. Reed shows no such hesitation. His warm hand wraps around my smaller fingers, and then he tugs me gently to my feet. My body is still a bit shaky, so I stagger slightly when I stand. Reed pulls me closer to him, wrapping his other arm around my waist to steady me.

  At least I thought he was only steadying me, until his lips brush lightly across my forehead. The sudden, unexpected contact of his soft lips on my skin causes me to freeze. I take just a moment to process what is happening. His arm is securely around my waist holding me so that our bodies are just brushing against each other. His other arm is down at our sides, but his hand is still holding mine. As his lips brush feather soft across my forehead, he moves his fingers in mine so that they become intertwined, each of my fingers between one of his. The act is so foreign to me, yet it feels exactly right.

  I can feel Reed’s breath as he continues with the soft kisses. My heart is pounding so loudly that I am sure he can hear it; the others probably can as well. My breathing is labored, and my eyes are squeezed so tightly shut I fear I may get a headache. That thought vanishes when Reed’s lips move from my forehead to my temple. They are still feather soft, but now his nose is touching my skin as well. I can feel it as he nuzzles my skin, taking in my scent. If someone were to describe that to me, I would think it was rather awkward or annoying.

  It is definitely neither of these things.

  Reed’s lips begin to trail down the side of my face, touching every inch of skin from over my temple, across my cheek, over to my ear, down the side of my jaw, then to my chin. The progression is slow and sweet and still feather soft. As he does this, his arm around my waist tightens slowly, pulling me closer and closer to his warm body. His fingers, intertwined with mine, flex as if he is trying to get closer to me there as well.

  My body is on fire, my mind blank. The only thing I can think about is what it will feel like when Reed’s lips finally touch mine.

  I feel as if I have been waiting my entire life for this moment. I have only known him for a short time, but there is no one I know better, or that knows me the way he does. The comfort I feel with him, the ability to talk with him about anything, and the way he knows my feelings and thoughts is like nothing I have ever experienced before. He makes me feel safe, secure, and protected. Things I have never sought from another, nor did I ever think I would need. Now I know that not only do I need that, but I do not know what I would do if Reed were not here to be the one to give that to me.

  He also makes me feel small and fragile. Something I would have loathed with anyone else, but with Reed, it feels nice. He makes me feel safe and happy.

  He makes me feel—

  My thought is cut off by the feel of Reed’s lips at the corner of my mouth. I suck in a startled breath as his lips finally press fully onto mine.

  My knees suddenly go weak. I would have fallen had Reed not tightened his arm further, bringing me as close to his body as possible. This time it is my hand in his that tightens, almost painfully. My other arm that had been hanging limply at my side moves on its own accord. My hand touches his arm then moves up to his shoulder and snakes around his neck. It lands on the hot bare skin just below his hair. As my fingers tighten to hold on to him, Reed groans softly and presses his lips more firmly to mine.

  The first touch of our lips was still soft like the one he peppered my face with, our noses just touching on the sides. This kiss is different. Reed tilts his head to the side, allowing our lips to meet more firmly. He presses his lips harder so that I can feel him better. I press back.

  Then he is gone. Reed lifts his lips just a fraction. I think he is stopping the kiss, but then he presses them to mine again. I feel the moment intensifying. His lips are soft and damp, but not wet. They are warm and sweet and feel so good against my own. I am not sure what comes next; I have never been kissed before, but as our lips connect again I can feel the mood shift. I know somehow that there is much more to this.

  Reed pulls back again, this time further. His face is still only an inch or so from mine, but I can see his eyes now. They are only partially open and darker than I have ever seen. He looks at me intently, as if he is looking for something specific. I cannot find words to ask what it is he is seeking, though. The smoldering look in his eyes is making me even more breathless. He opens his mouth to say something, ask something, I am not sure. But he does not get a chance. Someone clears her throat from behind him.

  The noise startles me and I jump. I would have jumped right out of Reed’s arms had he not held me tight, keeping me from moving even an inch away from him.

  I stand on tiptoe, so I can peer over Reed’s shoulder at whoever is standing there now. I am a little embarrassed at having been caught kissing Reed, but the tight hold he still has on me makes me feel better. Seeing the wide grin on Willow’s face takes the rest of the embarrassment away. I can see that she is not teasing me; she is genuinely happy to see us like this. My eyebrows draw together as I try to puzzle out why she would be so happy.

  She notices my confusion instantly. “It’s about time,” she says with an even wider smile.

  �
�Tell me about it,” Reed mumbles as he moves his hand from around my waist. He turns around, coming to my side so that he can face Willow as well. He does not let go of my hand though. Our fingers are still laced tightly together. I like that.

  “Huh?” I ask both of them, my gaze moving from one to the other in confusion.

  “You two have been playing this game forever. It’s about time,” she says as if that explains it all. It does not.

  “What game? I have not been playing any games,” I say, a bit irritated that I would be accused of such a thing.

  “She means how you’ve been acting like you don’t like me.” Reed winks.

  But this makes me even more irritated. I put my fist on my hip to emphasise my anger. “I have done no such thing. I have not once acted like you were not one of my dearest friends, Reed, much less like I did not like you!”

  Reed only smiles at my anger. “She means like like.” He emphasizes the last two words, but I do not understand, so I say so.

  “I do not know what you are talking about,” I say, exasperated.

  “Poppy.” Willow steps closer, shaking her head as she takes my free hand. She leans in and whispers in my ear. “I meant that you liked him more than a friend, like a boyfriend.”

  “Oh.” My cheeks heat and I glance at Reed out of the corner of my eye. His smile is wide and very happy.

  “No sense in acting shy about it. I already know. You did just kiss me,” he says triumphantly.

  “No, I believe you are the one that kissed me,” I point out.

  “Oh, well…” He frowns and I cannot help but laugh. He narrows his eyes at me and pulls me into his arms quickly. I did not expect this, so I stumble and fall into his chest.