Instead of storming further into the camp, Dracyrus stood still, figuring the screaming children would alert the others. Word would spread of his appearance, and her fellowship would come rushing over, trying to save the day.
As if they could. They were fortunate he wanted nothing more than Faith at his side, otherwise they would be no match for him. He could annihilate them easily enough.
Alas, he would not. Faith cared for them, somehow, and he would respect her feelings. This was only a courtesy call. He didn’t have to let them know Faith was gone, nor did he have to tell them who took her. But he would, because they were her mates, just as he hoped she would accept him, once he found her.
Faith would accept him, as long as she didn’t pull away from him in fear and revilement, like she had in that cave. Dracyrus still didn’t know what happened there, after he’d fallen on his knees before her—it was like she didn’t remember him, as if she had no memory of what they’d overcome to get to that point.
Dracyrus inhaled, his chest rising. It took but another minute for two familiar faces to appear before him. The Malus and the Elf from Faith’s fellowship. They’d looked better. Bags hung under their eyes, and they appeared filthy, like the Malus around them. The Elf especially looked out of place, his hair flat on his head instead of the spiky style it had on that burial site, when Dracyrus had first seen them.
First seen Faith, out of the waterworld.
The two were not alone; another Malus and another Elf stood by them, both women older. The older Elf had a dagger in her hand, as if she was going to attack him. A part of him would’ve liked to see her try—but Dracyrus supposed if he had to play nice, he had to play nice with the lot of them and not be choosy.
This…this was going to be worlds more difficult than he thought. He didn’t have the patience to deal with them, didn’t want to. All he wanted to do was find Faith.
“The Dread King,” the elder Malus spoke, sizing him up. “Well shave my back and call me an Elf. It truly is you.” The Elven woman behind her started to sidestep her, about to lunge for Dracyrus, but she held out an arm, stopping her. “He’s not attacking.”
“Doesn’t mean he won’t try to,” the other Elf spoke. What was his name? Dracyrus did not know. If he’d heard Faith speak it, he was unsure. Until recently, he’d been too wound up in trying to reach her that he’d paid little attention to anything else.
The Malus from her fellowship narrowed his blue gaze at the sword. “How’d you get that?”
Dracyrus glanced to his blade, glinting its long, shiny length in the sun. It was not the typical Elven or Fae blade. It was long, thin, devoid of any extra and fancy carvings. It was his, and he was not about to return it to this tribe. They could pry it from his cold, dead, scaled fingers.
He finally spoke, “It came to me in the cave.” Could he have been vaguer? Possibly, but the more time they wasted now, the further away Faith grew. She already seemed so far out of reach. “Before you harass me with a thousand questions, let me inform you that your Harbinger has been taken by two rogue Fae. I am going to get her back. You can either come with me or flounder about on your own. The choice is yours.”
“Um,” the male Malus spoke, scratching one of his ears. “Did I miss something? You are out to kill her, right? And Fae aren’t around these parts—” His annoying mumbling ceased the moment the elder Malus stepped forward.
She stopped only when she stood right before Dracyrus, her head bent as she gazed up at him. “You are an impressive specimen of your kind, aren’t you?” she whispered. Louder, she said, “Look at him, Jag. Look at him and tell me he’s lying.” After taking a step back, she added, “Faith found what she was looking for indeed, I think.”
The other Malus, Jag, shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“He doesn’t want to find her to kill her,” the elder spoke. “No, this time their story will be different. This time the Dread King and the Harbinger will come together and fight their enemies side by side. A twist I didn’t see coming.” She grinned, her teeth sharp. “Light, go fetch your bow.”
Light crossed his arms, and Dracyrus was unimpressed with his stance. Elves were too thin, too slender. There was hardly any muscle on them. Compared to both of these males, Dracyrus felt like a god. Or a king. He was the latter, way back when, after his sister had jumped from one of the Phyre’s tallest windows, all because the first Human in the realm had forced her to shed her nethellel and then used her up, spitting her out. Dracyrus had been all too happy to forgo everything else and go to war.
“The only way I’ll fetch my bow is if I use it to shoot this bastard in the head,” Light muttered, his obstinate stance making him seem younger than he was. Or maybe Dracyrus was just too old, saw things differently. Hard to say, now.
The older Elf spoke, still gripping her dagger, “He is the Harbinger’s enemy! We should kill him.”
Dracyrus felt a smirk growing on his lips, a taste of emotion he liked. “Try it. I would gladly end your life, Elf.” His fingers tightened around his sword grip. He kind of hoped one of them would attack him; all of this talking reminded him of Faith in the waterworld, how chatty she’d been. How incessantly she’d spoken. He’d hated her on principle then.
Today…things were so very different. He didn’t hate her. If anything, he felt the opposite.
“See? Once a killer always a killer,” Jag remarked, looking to his elder for support.
His elder simply shook her head. “That is because you aren’t seeing what I’m seeing. This is not a Dracon who’s come for war, not a Dracon who came to fight.” Her eyes were more intelligent than her Malus upbringing would suggest, and she studied Dracyrus, making him feel like something on display. “This is a Dracon who’s in search of his true destiny.” To Jag, she added, “And that destiny involves Faith, whether you idiots know it or not.”
“The more we talk, the farther they get,” Dracyrus hissed, a deep rumble coming from his chest. Around them, more Malus had gathered. Malus of all ages, of all fur-markings and colors. They watched in curiosity; it wasn’t every day the Dread King himself marched into their camp and was amicable. In fact, something like that never happened.
“So we’re just supposed to go with you and find her? How do you even know where she is?” Light asked.
Dracyrus eyed him. Had Faith not told them of their connection? “I’ve been following you all this long. Your Harbinger—” He would be formal in front of these fools. “—and I are connected in ways you wouldn’t understand. If you believe you can track her through a portal, go on.”
Light kept quiet, because Dracyrus’s words were true.
“We have to find Finn, and get Cam,” Jag spoke, his eyes widening as he glanced at Light, who currently gave him a scowl. Dracyrus had no idea what was going on, so he kept quiet, hating that he was waiting for these idiots to decide to tag along. At this rate, he should just find Faith on his own, rely on only himself and not these bumbling fools.
“Cam?” the older Elf echoed. “Surely you do not mean…” The expression Light gave her caused her to stumble over her words. “My Camden? He’s gone, after those Ulen took him. He died, Weylon.”
What was the Elf’s name? Light or Weylon? Maybe the latter was a surname—of which Dracyrus didn’t care. Why was he standing here, debating it as if it mattered? These idiots were draining his intelligence by the minute.
“Mother,” Light said, his words coming out begrudgingly, “we need to talk.”
Oh, wonderful. More talking. Dracyrus’s favorite thing to do, especially while Faith was missing, stuck with those two trickster Fae. He could not wait to join this discussion, too. All of this talking, all of these feelings, would give him a heart of gold.
A lie. His heart would never be made of gold, and his annoyance at the fools around him would never go away. Still, Dracyrus would suck it up as long as it meant he got to see Faith again. Got to hold her, touch her, mark her as his.
Yes
, it was only a matter of time until Faith became his.
Chapter Three
She woke with a jerk, clinging to the loose fabric around her as she sat up, breathing heavily as she looked around. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the sky, its blue color twinged with pink, which she thought odd, mostly because the sun was high in the sky, not even close to setting. Sunsets and sunrises were when the sky became colorful, or if there were clouds and the sun bounced off them…
How did she know that? Why did she know that? She couldn’t remember when, but she knew she’d seen it for herself, and almost instinctively, she knew she’d never seen the sky above her before. She was someplace new.
She got to her feet, stumbling somewhat, finding that she wore nothing but a cape of some sort. Like it was Halloween, some kind of costume—she moved her arms under the fur-trimmed cape and felt a gust of cool air smack her body—and she was naked underneath it, too. Huh. How did that happen?
Moving a hand to her head, revealing her body to the grassy plains around her, she felt the dull throbbing of a headache in her skull, as if she had a busy day the day before, doing things she shouldn’t be doing. Of course, all of that would’ve been fine and dandy…if she could’ve remembered what she did.
Or who she was, or how she got here.
Or anything at all, really.
She couldn’t remember a single thing, as scary as it was. Not her name, not her past, not her family. She couldn’t remember anything, and all she knew was she was in a freaking cape, naked underneath, with a dull headache. That was it. That was…she spotted a dagger tattoo on her wrist, and as she went to touch it, she saw her other wrist had one, too.
Huh. Was she a fan of tattoos? She couldn’t remember, but she must’ve been, because it seemed like an odd placement for two identical daggers.
She glanced all around, finding nothing but grass, her bare feet being tickled with every blade. She could see no buildings, no roads or streets. No other people. This was weird. Unless someone dumped her in the middle of nowhere after kidnapping her or something—no, that didn’t seem right. She took a step forward, toward nowhere in particular, and found she was rather sore between her legs.
Maybe someone had kidnapped her. Drugged her. Did things to her. How else was she supposed to explain this? Maybe her memory would come back with time. Maybe all she had to do was wait and everything would suddenly return to her in a rush, like a movie. Although, she thought, she couldn’t recall any movie right now, which ones she’d seen or not, so the comparison was pointless.
The sound of giggling behind her caused her to whirl—and then promptly go to hold the cape closed over her body. Two men were walking up to her, jostling each other’s arms and laughing, the twinkle in their eyes bright. Their ears were sharp and pointed, and they weren’t that much bigger than she was.
And their eyes—they were almost unnaturally colored. One was a vibrant green, the other a dark, brilliant blue. Like they were both wearing contacts, along with some kind of crazy ears. She wanted to reach up to her own ears, wondering if she had pointy ears, too.
No, deep down, somehow she knew she didn’t. She was Human. These two…they were Fae. Again, not certain how she knew it, but she did. In her gut, she knew she was right. If only she could use her gut feeling to remember who she was, what her name was—she’d take anything at this point. Anything.
The two Fae spotted her instantly as they headed over the gentle rolling hill. The one with dark blue eyes, sandy blonde hair and a boyish charm that surely made everyone wilt around him, men and women alike, spoke first, “Told you she’d be up by the time we were done.”
Scowling, the other Fae gave him a look that was half-hearted at best. “We never should’ve left her. What if she’d wandered off? What if we lost her? Hart would kill us.” His hair was dark, cut short to his scalp, making his ears seem even pointier. They both wore a mismatch of leather, haphazardly stitched together, nothing but their faces and their arms showing.
She felt naked next to them, because she kind of was. She should probably run, but where would she go? She had no idea who she was or why she was here, or why both these Fae looked at her with such…awe in their eyes. Did she know them?
“Um,” she spoke, sounding quite stupid, given the circumstances, “I don’t know who you are.”
“No, I suppose you don’t,” the one with blue eyes spoke, and his easy answer made her wonder if these two were the ones who made her memory disappear. Drugged her or something. If so, she’d kick them both in the balls and make a run for it. From what it felt like, her vagina was already freaking sore enough. She’d rather not run if she could help it.
She jerked back when he offered her a hand. “The name’s Swift,” the blue-eyed one said with a smile. With his other hand, he pointed to his friend. “And that one’s Foresh. Don’t be scared, we don’t bite.” He chuckled. “Unless you want us to.”
Foresh smacked him on the shoulder, and Swift dropped his extended hand to rub himself. “Do not speak to the Lioness like that,” he said. “He’ll have your throat if you hurt her.”
Okay, so it sounded like she was important to these weirdos, but why? “You two don’t happen to know my name, do you?” She ignored the whole bit about the lioness, for she wasn’t sure what the two were talking about.
“Of course we do! We wouldn’t have kidnapped you if we didn’t,” Swift said quickly, earning himself a scowl from the other man. “We’ve been waiting for you for a long time, Faith—though I much prefer Lioness myself. Has a better ring to it. I hear the lions on your world are impressive, strong beasts—”
Foresh gave him a look that said he was annoyed.
“What? Am I rambling? I’m probably rambling,” Swift carried on, slinging an arm around Foresh’s shoulder. “At least I’m not rambling about what Foresh and I were doing over there. It might just turn those pale cheeks of yours pinker than the grass at home.”
Pink…grass? She shook the thought off, recalling the name he’d said: Faith.
Faith.
It sounded right. It sounded like home. She was Faith, she knew it. What she did not know was why these two knew her. If they were Fae and she was Human, how did they know each other? Then again, from what it sounded like, she’d never met these two before. They were looking for her, kidnapped her…but why? They didn’t seem particularly evil.
“How do you know me?” Faith asked.
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll want to be the one to tell you. We are only your escorts, Lioness,” Swift said with a bow as Foresh pushed him off. “Foresh just can’t portal a human too close to the capital. Our kingdom might’ve fallen eons ago, but we’re still there, still powering along.”
Foresh frowned. “Hart wants her to see the Aetherium, Swift. Don’t make it look like I’m helpless.”
“Right. Our fearless, brave leader wants you to come to your own conclusions about us,” Swift corrected himself. “We’re supposed to show you around, show you everything.”
Everything. The word felt heavy, but Faith felt excited. She might not remember anything, but she wanted to know it all. Curiosity killed the cat and all that. “I don’t suppose you can find me some clothes?” she asked, her bare legs peeking out of the bottom of the cape. It fell past her knees, but with the breeze going by, she had to hold it closed with her hands, lest she show these two every part of her.
“We’ll swing by a village soon,” Foresh said, his green eyes falling to her bare feet. “Get you some clothes, but until then, Swift can fashion you some illusioned clothes.”
“Illusioned clothes?” Faith echoed, not sure if she liked the sound of that. Were illusioned clothes just fake clothes? What good were those?
Swift made a big show of wagging his fingers, and she felt a tingle travel along her body. Faith glanced down, finding her feet were covered in boots—although she could still feel the grass on her feet, so she knew they weren’t really covered. The same with the rest of her. She had a fitted
corset over her waist, tight leather pants on her legs, but when the wind blew, she felt everything as if she stood there, stark naked.
“You look even better with clothes than without,” Swift commented, nodding along, approving of his own magic use. “And that’s a hard thing to come by, these days, as I find the naked form so very appealing.”
Foresh shook his head, his annoyance hidden with a smile. “You better hope Lionheart doesn’t know you’re talking to her like that.” It was clear he and Swift were close, and with the way they’d come over that hill, pulling at their own clothes, Faith couldn’t help but assume they were lovers.
Or, at the very least, they’d been with each other moments before greeting her. She wasn’t sure how Fae were with each other; so far, they seemed to be a very free people, sexually, that was.
“Who is this Lionheart you two keep bringing up?” Faith crossed her arms, glad she wasn’t completely naked, although when she rested her arms over her chest, she could feel the soft, tender skin of her breasts against her forearms. It was…a freaking weird sensation. She needed real clothes, ASAP.
She’d never heard of the Lionheart before—but then again, her memory was currently lacking, to say the least. She would be better off saying the things she did remember, which was zilch. Zero. Nada. Faith wouldn’t even know her name if it wasn’t for these two.
“You don’t know who the Lionheart is?” Swift asked, sapphire eyes widening in shock. He glanced at Foresh. “Shouldn’t she know?”
“Not necessarily. I doubt her mother told her,” the other Fae remarked.
“My mother…” Faith trailed off, trying to remember her. Did she have brown hair? Blonde hair? What color were her eyes? It was so difficult to think about her, some faceless blob in a sea of memories she couldn’t recall. It was the worst feeling in the world, knowing something was inside her head and being unable to get to it. “I don’t remember who she is. I don’t remember anything. What did you guys do to me?”
The Lionheart (The Harbinger Book 4) Page 2