by May Dawson
Then I jumped and caught the damned thing around the neck.
It hadn’t been expecting that, and it whirled, shaking its head. Those dangerous teeth flashed close by me, and it tilted its head, trying to fix me with one of those huge, rolling eyes. But I was too close for it to turn its neck and bite me as long as I stayed close.
“You’re not supposed to ride the thing, Azrael!” she shouted at me. She was already lunging forward, slamming her sword into its legs. The beast howled. It snapped at her, but she was already gone, dancing to one side.
My grip on its neck was slipping, and when I lost my balance, I’d be at its mercy for a moment. I struck with my knife, plunging it into the monster’s eye. It roared as I finally slipped, and when it bucked, I was slammed into the wall.
But Alisa was there, finishing it off. I’d known she would be, and that was why I lay on the floor for a second, catching my breath. The floor shook beneath me as the monster collapsed.
I looked into the untouched eye as it stared into mine, as it gave its last breath.
“Where did you come from?” I asked it, before I tore my knife from the other eye.
“I think that’s what we need to figure out,” she said, offering me her hand. I let her pull me to my feet, and she winced as she strained. “Wow, you really are letting me carry your weight these days, aren’t you?”
“I know how strong you are.” I planted a kiss on the top of her head.
Then I looked past her to see a tear-stained woman carrying a small child.
“Thank you,” the woman whispered. Her gaze was fixed on the monster at our feet; I didn’t think she’d seen evidence of our forbidden tryst.
“Is everyone else in the house all right?” I asked.
“Tis just me and the babe,” she said, using the more formal cadences that were so common for winter court fae. We barely saw any of them, despite living in their territory. “My husband died this summer in—”
The moment she registered Alisa’s short lavender hair, curling around her ears, she stopped talking.
“Thank you,” she repeated, but it sounded mechanical now.
“Will you be able to repair your house?” Alisa asked. “Or do you need help?”
She shook her head. Alisa frowned, as if she were confused by her reaction. How innocent had Herrick managed to keep her of what the summer court was doing to winter? I elbowed her, then pointed at the beast.
“We’re not done yet,” I reminded her.
“I hate this part,” she grumbled.
Together, the two of us maneuvered the Ravager down the stairs and out of the house. We used magic to drag it deep out into the woods, and abandoned the carcass there.
“I’ve been doing some research,” she said. She was still frowning slightly, as if she were troubled by our encounter, but she forged on. “I thought we could use a merge spell, so we can track where they’re coming from.”
I laughed, but she was looking at me with her brows lifted, so I stopped. “You’re serious.”
“You and I are both royalty,” she said. “I know it’s a difficult spell, but if anyone can do it, we can.”
“Your confidence level is going to get you killed,” I grumbled. “Or me. Probably me.”
“You’re not saying no,” she said lightly.
I sighed. “I’m not saying no.”
Together, the two of us worked the spell, which allowed her to see through the eyes of the Ravager. She trusted me to lead her while she was running blind, lost in the beast’s past.
We found our way to a place in a cave where a portal had been constructed.
She gasped as she studied it. “Someone built this. Why?”
I ran my hand over the frame, which was etched with runes. “To destroy the winter court,” I said, my voice somber. “The last of it. Every male, female or child who might rebel.”
The blood drained from her face. “Herrick.”
“Or those on his orders,” I said.
“Help me destroy it,” she said.
And we did.
That night, we finally stumbled into bed with only a few hours to sleep before dawn came and the start of our training. But I could feel how she was restless and worried, lying in bed without sleeping.
I lifted myself onto my elbow, then stared at her in the dim light. Her lavender hair seemed to shine, no matter how dark the night around us.
I didn’t know what to say, so I got up and slid into bed beside her. She smiled and shifted, settling her head into the curve of my shoulder.
We never cuddled; we had sex, in furtive moments, behind two locked doors. Cuddling was dangerous.
But so was leaving Alisa alone with her own thoughts, as she sorted through the darkness of the summer court.
“You’re going to change the world,” I whispered, before dropping a kiss into her hair. Maybe she could fix what was broken in the summer court, but I didn’t dare say that out loud, not while she was still wrestling with Herrick and Faer’s misdeeds. “Maybe they’ll let girls into the academy when they see what you’ve done.”
She scoffed. “They’re going to be so furious I got one over on them… I’ve probably made things worse.”
She was almost always so irrepressibly optimistic, in her own way, that I knew she was hurting.
“Can you keep a secret?” she asked softly.
“I’m pretty deep in your secrets already, Alisa,” I reminded her.
“It’s not mine.” She turned her face up, studying me in the moonlight.
“I’ll never betray your trust,” I promised her, smoothing her hair back from that beautiful face.
Her eyes shone silver and bright. “I’m not the only girl at the academy. There’s a winter court girl hiding here too. We’ve gotten to be friends. Maybe together we really can change the world.”
I was silent for a few long seconds, processing that news. “Just be careful. If she gets caught, she won’t have the High King’s protection.”
“I’m not so sure even I do anymore,” she muttered.
She nestled into me, and she fell asleep, as if she’d just needed to tell me her secret hopes and dreams before she could sleep. But now I couldn’t fall asleep. For Alisa, trusting me with a secret like that was a far greater intimacy than biting my shoulder to hold back her scream during sex.
I held her tight, overwhelmed by how much she trusted me.
And by how hard it was going to be to protect her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Alisa
The next morning, I woke to a pounding on the door to my apartment. I was still bleary-headed from sleep, but I grabbed my sword, which I’d slept with that night, and headed for the source of the racket.
When I swung the door open, Duncan stood framed in the doorway.
“Oh no,” I said. “It’s too early for you.”
“I’m supposed to teach you,” he said impatiently. “So get on your clothes and let’s go train.”
“Duncan, I don’t think there’s a damn thing you can teach me that I need to learn.” I was sick of all the arrogant Fae men in my life.
His lips twisted as if that were amusing. “Fine. Then come with me to train, and show me how little need you have of a bodyguard.”
“You saw me fight the other day,” I shot back.
“You fought shifters,” he said. “Not Fae.”
“Same difference.” I started to close the door.
So quick he was a flicker of movement, he stepped forward to block the door, which brought us chest-to-chest—well, almost. He was so much taller than me that it was more like nose-to-chest. He looked down at me, his eyebrows tilting.
“I forgot you’re lazy,” he said. “Or is cowardice a thrilling new addition to your personality?”
I shook my head as I turned on my heel and headed away from him. “Bait me all you want. I’m not impressed.”
“Competence in fighting is a hallmark of Fae royalty,” he said. “Faer aside. If you
cannot do this, you’ll never rule.”
“I can fight, though. I just don’t want to play with you. And I don’t know if I want to rule, for that matter.”
“You tire me,” he said, ducking his head and covering his sudden yawn with his bicep. “I didn’t ask to discuss your innermost longings. I asked you to come out to the field and allow me to assess your capabilities, because that’s my job.”
“Sorry to bore you.”
“If you aren’t dressed and walking out that door in two minutes,” he told me, “I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you out—in whatever you’re wearing, or not—to the training yard where the squires are practicing. Then you can go through your paces in front of them.”
“Through my paces?” My brows arched. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“One-and-nineteen,” he said, crossing his arms over his big chest. He stared into my eyes as he said, “One-and-eighteen.”
“You know, I was a Hunter, I don’t exactly mind beating people around the head and shoulders,” I said, heading back into my room because I didn’t particularly want to be carried anywhere by Duncan ever again. “You don’t have to burst in here with threats and insults. You could’ve brought me coffee and asked me nicely.”
“One-and-thirteen. There is no coffee,” he called back as I went through the drawers, trying to find something that looked like workout gear.
Did I own a sports bra?
“And I don’t ask nicely,” he added.
“Yeah, I was picking up on that. Quite the character flaw.” I glanced back out the room at him. He was still standing in my living room looking as if he owned the place. He wore a fitted black tunic, black trousers, and what looked like black leather slippers. So, the same thing he wore yesterday. That didn’t help me with my current wardrobe conundrum. “Are you wearing your dirty laundry?”
“Why do you ask so many stupid questions?”
“Why do you?” I rifled through another drawer.
“One-hundred-and-six,” he said ominously. “One-hundred-and-five.”
“I didn’t hear you counting down the whole time.”
“I was counting in my head.”
“You’re just making stuff up.” I gave up, straightening from my search of the bottom dresser drawer. “Duncan. What do I wear to work out? Now that I’m in Faelandia?”
He came into my room with a sigh, searched through my closet, and pulled open a set of drawers hanging beneath the long line of jackets that I never even noticed. He pulled out a soft black tunic and pants like his, and tossed them to me.
“I thought I was a princess. This looks like a soldier’s uniform.”
“I’m a prince,” he said simply.
“What?” I thought of what Raile had said the night before, about how there were many courts of the Fae. But then, why was Duncan here, inflicting all his sunshiney personality on me?
“Thirty-two.”
What an unsatisfying answer. But I hurriedly pulled off the shirt I’d worn to bed and yanked on the tunic and pants. They were comfortable, at least.
“Two,” he said, and then a beat later, “One.”
“Shoes?” I demanded, heading for the closet. I searched through the rows of shoes on the shelves. “I’m trying here, you know. I said I’d come out with you. No need to treat me like a squire. I don’t know what that is, but I bet you’re terrible to them.”
“You’d be right,” he said. “Shoes.”
“That’s what I just said—” I started, right before something stung across my ass. I glared up at him as Duncan handed me the shoe he’d just swatted me with. He held the other one up, staring at it, as if he were considering going after me with that one as well.
“Shoes,” he said. “As I said.”
“Did you really just spank me with a shoe?” I wrenched the shoe out of his hand before he could get any more ideas.
“Did you really just fail to notice I was offering your shoes?” he asked.
“If I didn’t know better, Prince Duncan, between the fact that you complimented my ass and smacked it, I’d think you like me.”
“I don’t like you. I do like your ass, specifically.”
“Well, maybe I’ll win you over one—” I stopped myself just as I was about to say maybe I’ll win you over one body part at a time. It sounded as if I were flirting with Duncan, and Duncan was not worthy of flirtation. I slipped my feet into my shoes. “Let’s go.”
As we headed through the halls, I asked, “What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going for a horseback ride to see if you remember how not to fall off,” he said, “and then you’re going to try to hit me for a while.”
“Sounds delightful.”
“We’ll see.” He stepped through the door ahead of me, into the soft diffused early sunshine, and held it open for me to pass.
As we walked through, I glanced at the young Fae warriors already training in the yard. Even though the sun had just risen, they were already covered in sweat and sand. They looked miserable, and I would prefer not to join them.
Instead, I followed Duncan into the stables. “Did you and I ever train like that?” I asked.
He snorted. “No. We’re royalty—they are low Fae, apprentices to the knights. Our training was completely different.”
His condescending tone exasperated me. He complained about my stupid questions, but also about my ignorance. He should at least pick one consistently.
“Our training was also miserable,” he added, “but completely different.”
He started to saddle his horse, and I tried to imitate him with the second horse until he turned to me, his eyes widening. “You don’t know how to saddle a horse.”
“Why do you keep being surprised?” I demanded. “Can’t you hold a thought in your head longer than five minutes?”
He saddled a horse for me, grumbling the entire time, and then led both our horses out into the yard. “Am I going to have to put you onto the horse, too?”
I didn’t answer him, because maybe? I put my toe into the stirrup uncertainly, trying to figure out where to put my hands for a second, and then swung up easily onto the horse’s back. Muscle memory must have taken over.
He grunted. “Small mercies.”
The two of us rode out through the gardens, heading for the woods. I glanced behind us. “Don’t want an audience in case I kick your ass, huh?”
He grunted in response.
“Are you going to be surly all morning just because you’re stuck with me? I can be fun, you know.”
“I do know,” he said, surprising me. “I also know it’s a trick.”
“Why don’t you tell me what I did to you?”
“Because it’s Azrael’s story,” he said. “Ask Azrael.”
“Why are you so mad at me about something I did to Azrael?”
His jaw set. “You don’t know anything about what it means to be family.”
“Maybe not,” I said. “I don’t remember having any.”
I wondered if Faer had ever really been my family, for that matter. My brother acted warm and caring when I was near him, but he’d kept his distance at the parties, leaving me to embarrass myself. There was nothing loving in that.
He glanced at me, his brows drawing together. We were nearing the woods, and I could’ve sworn I heard an eerie singing coming from the forest, although it faded into the breeze as we neared the trees.
“Stay close,” he said. “I’m supposed to return you alive. Bruised at most.”
I rolled my eyes, but the shoulder of my horse grazed the shoulder of his, as if I’d accidentally leaned and encouraged the horse that way. I was keenly aware that I didn’t know everything when we were out here in the woods.
“What if I return you bruised? Would Azrael scold me?”
“It used to seem like you enjoyed Azrael’s scoldings,” he deadpanned, “and what came after them.”
My jaw tensed. I was so curious about the relatio
nship I’d had with Azrael before, but Duncan was never going to give me meaningful answers. “I thought you were going to stop talking about my relationship with Azrael.”
“I’ll talk to you about whatever I please.” He drew up his horse. We’d come to a clearing, ringed with trees. Mossy stones covered half the ground, wild grass the other. Mushrooms dotted a fallen log nearby, the mushroom caps red and shining, and I glanced at them suspiciously. Surely the mushrooms here were trying to kill me, but they were probably less dangerous than the Fae who paused his black horse just ahead of me.
“What kind of prince goes to the front?” I demanded.
He slid off his horse in one deft move, then offered me a hand.
“Hard pass,” I said, swinging down from my horse on my own.
He spoke quietly to our horses, then unstrapped a bundle from the back of his saddle. He pulled out a wooden training sword and threw it to me. “Here. A familiar weapon to better your odds.”
I caught the wooden hilt and brought it down to my side with a swish, testing its weight and balance. “Is ‘shit talking’ a thing in the Fae world too, then?”
He cocked an eyebrow at me. Then without any further preamble, he moved forward, his footing sure over the loose rocks, pressing an attack.
I raised my sword at his first blow, which was almost desultory, and the wooden swords crossed with a crack.
Then the two of us began to parry for real, fighting back and forth, blocking each other’s blows.
When he left me an opening, I managed to slip behind him and slapped the blade of my sword across his ass. He spun, already knocking my sword with his so hard that the force of the blow traveled up my wrist and stung my forearm, but I grinned in triumph anyway.
“Payback,” I said.
“You don’t want to play a game of payback with me, Princess.”
“Maybe I do, Prince.”
The two of us fought back and forth. He was a more than competent opponent, and I found myself smiling. I’d felt so unsettled the last few days, but it was a release to lose myself in a game I knew and understood.
“You’re not bad,” he admitted, the two of us facing each other, chests heaving and swords still crossed.