Wandering Queen (Lost Fae Book 1)

by May Dawson

  “You either.” I moved into the ready, eager to fight again.

  Duncan never smiled around me, but I could’ve sworn he looked pleased as he moved forward and I met him. The sound of our swords broke the quiet of the woods.

  I could fight with this fool of a man forever.

  Chapter Thirty

  Duncan

  When we returned, Alisa followed me into the barn and watched me as I started to stable the horses.

  She chewed her lower lip, her eyes wide and beguiling even when she worried. A strange protective urge ran through me whenever she looked anxious.

  So I flicked that pouty lower lip.

  She stared at me, her fire returning. “Touch me again and I’ll murder you in your sleep, Prince.”

  “You can try,” I said. “Even unconscious, I like my chances.”

  “How do you even walk while carrying all that ego?” she asked, but despite herself, her gaze lingered on my body.

  I nodded at the brush, telling her to get to work. “You’re not nervous, are you? You worked with animals dirtside.”

  “Two things are hard for me now,” she admitted, tucking her hair behind her ears, plastering it to her head. Then she picked up the brush. “First of all, I work in an urban veterinary clinic. I can handle guinea pigs—I’ve never been anywhere near a horse until now.”

  Then she corrected herself, “Well, that I remember. That’s what’s really hard now. People expect me to know everything, but I don’t know how to ride well. Or…how to princess well.”

  I stared at her, shocked by her vulnerability. I’d never known her to lack confidence, let alone admit to it.

  Then her lips twisted into a familiar smirk, as if she realized she’d shocked me speechless.

  I’d been tempted to tell what a natural she’d always been. That smirk caused the soft words to die in my chest. That smirk might be a defense mechanism now, but once it had signaled danger.

  Instead, I closed my hand over hers as it gripped the brush and pressed behind her.

  “I’ll show you what to do,” I said. “Your useless brother and his knights have the stable staff to care for their horses. We do things differently.”

  “We?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at me.

  I huffed a laugh. “We. Until I manage to get rid of you, we’re going to do things the right way.”

  As I showed her how to safely approach the horse and how to brush it down, her hand was in mine. Her bones were so fine that she made me feel like a monster in comparison. Her ass brushed against my cock, which instantly hardened, and I took a step back so she wouldn’t feel me against her.

  I let my hand fall, watching her delicate muscles ripple as she brushed the horse in long, sure strides. My cock throbbed as it pressed against my pants, as if just watching her was going to make me explode.

  “It’s a matter of pride for all academy grads to care for their horses themselves. Our warhorses would go to hell and back for us, we could saddle them and muck their stalls ourselves,” I said.

  “Even princes?”

  “Even princesses.”

  “I went to the academy with you and Azrael?” She frowned at the thought.

  I nodded impatiently. I didn’t want to discuss that either, so I changed the subject.

  “We should get you a real horse instead of one of these ponies, so you can keep up when we ride,” I told her, then realized the act of getting a horse like ours would be a commitment she wasn’t ready for.

  She turned to me, her eyes wide.

  God, she was beautiful when she looked at me, giving me the full weight of her attention. Her eyes were large and luminous. Her curvy, heavier mortal frame was unfamiliar, but strangely mouthwatering.

  But it was the way she’d fought for the humans we’d seen that made some stupid part of me ache to protect her. Before we knew it, she’d have her memories back. She might murder Faer and take the throne, but unlike what my foolish brother thought, she’d never be a better ruler than he was. He was stupid and mean; she was brilliant and cruel.

  Maybe she wasn’t that woman right now, the one with an angel’s face and a demon’s mind. But she’d find that old Alisa again, deep inside.

  She’d be far more destructive than Faer, if it suited her. Alisa did as she wished no matter what it cost.

  “What’s the name of your horse?” she asked, startling me out of my own thoughts.

  I shook my head. “We don’t name our horses.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “So I’ve heard. Doesn’t that make it confusing to talk about them?”

  “They’re not pets,” I said.

  “You’re full of shit,” she said. “I don’t believe you.”

  “They’re war animals.”

  “They deserve names.” She cocked her head to one side. “What about your dogs?”

  “My hounds?” I touched the tattoos on my chest absently, as if they felt me speak of them. “No. Not pets either.”

  She looked at me curiously as if she’d noticed the motion.

  Before she could pry, I told her, “Go find Azrael. He’s got the next round of teaching-you-how-not-to-be-useless.”

  “I’d like to see you adapt to my world as quickly as I’m adapting to yours,” she shot back.

  “This is your world,” I said.

  Something sad came over her face. “Maybe someday.”

  When she looked so uncertain, so vulnerable, my own body responded. I almost reached out to her. Then, the second after that impulse, anger flared through my chest.

  I turned my back and left her behind me, striding out of the stables and into the bright sun of the courtyard. Swords clashed against swords and shields as a dozen of the knights trained, along with the prince himself.

  Faer broke off mid-blow and wandered over to me, leaving his opponent standing alone.

  “So, how was she?” Faer asked me. Sweat beaded along his hairline, and as we spoke, a human servant came up with lowered head, offering him a tray with a bowl of cool water and a towel. He splashed water over his face and wiped it off with the towel.

  “Sloppy.” I crossed my arms, leaning against the wooden rail that surrounded the fighting pit.

  I wasn’t even sure why I lied. It was a decision made before conscious thought caught up. Whatever—it would give her a better chance of surviving Faer and Raile, and it cost me nothing. I wanted them to suffer too; let them all make each other miserable. “She learned some things in the human world, but not enough to replace all she has forgotten.”

  He nodded. “She’ll need you three to protect her, then.” For a second, he sounded as if he actually gave a damn what happened to her.

  “Yes,” I said. “I suppose so.”

  “How is it, seeing her again?” Faer asked curiously.

  “It’s nothing,” I said simply. “She doesn’t matter to me.”

  “Then it won’t trouble you to watch Raile take her.” He watched her with bright, curious eyes as she moved about in the distance, heading into the palace.

  I shrugged. Faer didn’t care about my feelings any more than I cared to discuss them. He was asking for his own amusement.

  She’d almost reached the palace when Azrael and Tiron emerged. Azrael touched her arm as he spoke to her.

  She’d seemed to be boiling with rage last night after she met Raile, but for some reason, she seemed to have forgiven him a little today. She didn’t punch him in the face, no matter that he deserved it. My chest tightened as I watched them together.

  “Does he still care for her?” Faer asked, his tone light, though there was nothing light about the question at all.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “He’ll do his job.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” Faer said.

  I grunted and moved toward them, leaving Faer behind. He whistled to one of the squires and his feet crunched over gravel as he moved to practice with another one. I wondered if they were terror-struck to strike the king or if they we
re good opponents to better his skills, and I wondered which Faer preferred.

  When I reached them, Azrael said, “Good. The four of us are going to the Delphin to see if she can restore Alisa’s memories.”

  “She’s not ready for the Delphin,” I scoffed. “She’ll eat Alisa alive.”

  “Literally?” Alisa asked, crossing her arms.

  Neither of us bothered to answer her. It took me a second to realize that she meant the question, and by then Tiron was whispering to her that the Delphin was just grouchy—not deadly. “Just like Duncan,” he assured her.

  “Of course she doesn’t know anything about the Delphin,” I told Azrael. “This is a bad idea.”

  “I’ll teach her along the way,” Azrael promised.

  I grunted again. “Giving her princess lessons. What a perfect job for you.”

  At least I’d been assigned to test her skills and make sure she could still defend herself, as the summer royalty was rather prone to assassination attempts—for good reason. And yet, I had to admit that as much as I might joke about wanting her dead, the thought of anyone trying to kill her sparked rage that tightened my fists.

  But I didn’t mind her being hurt a little, at least in the ring, and especially if I was the one who got to do the hurting.

  It was a long ride to the Delphin, and along the way, we encountered a pack of creepers, animals that clung to the branches and dropped down to attack their prey.

  “Time to move.” Azrael reached out and smacked Alisa’s horse across its hindquarters, stirring it into a gallop. “Go with her!” he barked at Tiron.

  Tiron and Alisa’s horses darted ahead into the forest as the creepers raced through the trees above, chittering with excitement. Leaves drifted down above from above.

  The four of us raced at top speed, trying to get out from beneath the cover of the spreading canopy. My spine tingled at the possibility of having a creeper leap down at me.

  “Get to open ground!” I shouted at Tiron and Alisa. “Out of the cover of the trees! They won’t be able to surprise us there.”

  Tiron urged his horse to the left, and Alisa hesitated. Just for a second. Then she decided to follow Tiron.

  Her horse jumped to the left and tried to leap over the same fallen bough as Tiron’s horse, but their timing was off. Her horse stumbled, but caught itself.

  A creeper dropped down from the woods onto the two of them, a furry body that flashed with teeth and fangs as it slammed into Alisa’s shoulders.

  She cried out, somehow staying on her horse as the terrified animal raced out of control, mindless through the woods, completely careless of its rider.

  “Throw yourself off!” I shouted. She’d be hurt, at this speed, but it would give us a chance to kill the creeper that clung to her shoulders despite her best efforts to throw it off. She reached for her sword, but she was still wearing her damned sword harness, the one she thought she was comfortable with, and she couldn’t reach the hilt with the creeper snarling and snapping at her throat.

  “Gods be damned, Alisa, listen!” I shouted at her, fear spiking through my chest.

  I glimpsed sunlight through the gloom of the trees, then realized she was still heading for the clearing up ahead. She didn’t want to stop until she reached open sky, where we’d have a better chance at fighting the creepers. The rest of the pack wouldn’t come to the rescue of their companion if we were in sunshine.

  The creeper sank its teeth into her shoulder, and she screamed, still trying to guide the horse. Then she and the horse were out in the sunlight. Her feet came out of the stirrups, then she threw herself to one side, launching herself off the horse.

  I was off my horse and to her side in seconds. Tiron and Azrael dismounted just as quickly, their feet slapping the earth.

  I grabbed the creeper’s fur at the back of its neck, slicing my blade through its neck. She screamed again as the teeth sank deeper before the thing relaxed into death.

  Her horse was already thundering off, through the woods, heading back for home. I watched it go, sure that the horse, at least, would make it home safely. Fae horses knew the dangers well of the forest and knew how to evade most of them. They were smarter than our princess.

  I looked down at the ugly face of the creature I’d just killed, stained with Alisa’s blood. My heart was still racing. As if I’d been afraid for her.

  The cursed girl didn’t listen. I stood with my sword ready, looking out at the trees that ringed us. There were yellow eyes in the trees, glistening from the shadows, but they didn’t dare attack us out here.

  I picked up the furry body and slung it toward them. “Have your friend back.”

  The corpse crashed into the underbrush. After a few long seconds, I heard a flutter as some scavenger fell on the creeper and dragged it away.

  I turned to Alisa, worried how hurt she’d been, now that the worst of the danger had passed.

  She was on the ground, blood staining her throat and her shoulder and her hair. Tiron sat beside her, his hand on her shoulder as if he could loan her strength to deal with the pain. Azrael knelt beside her, his face calm as he checked her wounds.

  They no longer needed me.

  My jaw stiffened.

  “Are we still going to see the Delphin?” I asked. “She’s lost her horse. She barely seems competent to stay on one to begin with.”

  Tiron flashed me a warning look that made me want to throttle him. He was my friend, someone I’d grown as close to these last few years as if he were my younger brother. But he sided with her, and for no reason. She wasn’t loyal to him; she was never loyal to anyone.

  “Yes, we’ll go on,” Azrael said decisively. “There’s no reason not to. But she’ll need to ride with someone.”

  Tiron’s lips parted, and before he could eagerly offer his horse to her, I snapped, “She can ride with me.”

  Azrael glanced at me skeptically.

  “I’m the best horseman of the three of us,” I said.

  “Debatable,” Azrael put in.

  “I can help her not fall off her horse again.”

  She gazed up at me with a frown dimpling the space between her blue eyes. “You told me to fall off my horse.”

  “You didn’t listen.” My voice came out hot.

  “I did. I simply waited for an opportune time.” She tried to raise her arm to indicate the open sky above us, but she winced when she did, and it twisted something inside me to see her hurt.

  “When I give you an order, you can follow it, Princess. No need to think for yourself when you don’t know a damned thing about our world. Your pathetic attempts don’t serve you much.”

  “Duncan,” Azrael said warningly. “Tiron, patch her up. Then we’ll move out again.”

  I glanced at him meaningfully.

  He added, “Alisa will ride with Duncan.”

  Good. Tiron couldn’t be trusted with that minx any more than Azrael could.

  I’d save my friends from themselves, if it were even possible.

  Alisa always had a gift for driving men half-mad.

  Memories of her body against mine, her lips, stirred me, and I glanced away out to the woods again, ignoring the sound of Tiron ministering to her wounds, coddling her.

  If they couldn’t remember what she truly was, I wasn’t sure how either of them would survive another round with her.

  And I couldn’t survive losing them again.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Alisa

  I swung up onto Duncan’s horse first, then he slid behind me. “At least you’re small enough that I can see over your head,” he grumbled.

  “So grouchy. And yet, you wanted me here on your horse with you,” I reminded him as he looped his arm around my waist lightly. His hard abs and chest pressed against my back. There was no escaping; we had to be intimately close together now.

  He snorted. “I don’t even want you in my world.”

  He just didn’t want me anywhere near his friends. I saw the looks he th
rew my way, as if he were jealous when they were near me. It was strange, given how much he hated me.

  The four of us set off again, moving quickly through the woods. “Will my horse be all right?” I asked as we galloped through the forest.

  He paused. “Yes. She knows her way home, and she knows how to stay out of trouble.”

  His tone implied I didn’t share the common sense of the horse.

  For a few minutes, we traveled in silence. I sat uncomfortably in front of him, keenly aware of how he despised my body against his. My spine was stiff, which made me bounce uncomfortably in the saddle as I leaned away from him.

  His voice was disarmingly sexy, despite his gruff tone, when he he asked me, “Why did you work with animals in the mortal world?”

  “They’re easier than people.” I said bluntly, still too shocked from the encounter with the creepers to keep my guard up. “You must be able to understand that. You don’t like people.”

  “Is it that obvious?” he asked dryly.

  “But you like some people,” I murmured. “Azrael. Tiron.”

  “Like is an overstatement,” he corrected.

  “You love them.” I didn’t say it just to rile him, although I enjoyed that. It was true.

  He grunted. “It’s not too late for me to turn around and feed you to the creepers, you know.”

  “I can see it in the way you look at them. You want to protect them. Take care of them.” It was too hard to stay away from him. I leaned some of my weight against his chest, relaxing into his grip.

  He huffed a laugh. “They should be able to take care of themselves. If they’re so useless, I don’t see why I’d care.”

  I rolled my eyes, but gave up on that line of conversation. For a few minutes, there was no sound but the horses’ soft footfalls on the ground and the rustle of the branches above. His body against mine moved as if it was one with the horse, all grace and strength. I admired the way he rode, even if I hated everything else about him.

  “Why is everything so dangerous in this world?” I mused. We were traveling through a grove of trees that reminded me of weeping willows, their long tendrils dangling to the ground shimmering in an array of whites and grays. As the wind moved through the tendrils, soft music rose in the air, as if they were chimes. “And yet, it’s all so beautiful.”