The Lionheart (The Harbinger Book 4)

by Candace Wondrak

  “But it won’t end here. After this world, she will move on.” As Hart spoke, the mountains of Furen faded, changing into the landscape of skyscrapers Faith called home. New York City. It was on fire, the sky a bright orange, full of chaos and confusion, dead littering the streets. “She will never stop, unless you take her down.”

  This could not spill over to the real world. Faith wouldn’t let it. Her grandma, her mother, Cara. Even President Tullie. No one would die at the hands of this…this woman. With her determination set, she nearly stumbled back as she recalled the Fae woman in the waterworld. The one who’d tried to strangle her.

  “She’s a Fae,” Faith said, glancing at Hart. Did Dracyrus’s awakening bring her forth too?

  “Yes, but even the humblest of minds and hearts can become twisted with time, let alone those who were already twisted in the first place.”

  “Was it her magic that—”

  “Made you lose your memories? I believe so, though I do not know why. Perhaps she’s a seer. If she’d seen you defeat her, she would do everything in her power to make sure you could not.”

  “It would’ve been easier to kill me.”

  Hart nodded. “Yes, but perhaps she hoped Dracyrus would kill you for her. He was always the one she wanted, after all.”

  The memories in the Well. The Fae woman who’d wanted Dracyrus to court her. The one who’d cursed them both to fight each other until the end of time—the end of time was nigh, because she was going to end it.

  “Oh, my God,” Faith managed to say, feeling the weight of the world, of two worlds, on her shoulders. “Are you a seer too? How do you know these things?”

  “I might look Fae, but that is purely because my mother was. My father was of something else entirely. He knew his line could save the known worlds, and his bloodline only, so he came down.”

  He came down? “He was from earth?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t…”

  Hart studied her. “He did not come from earth, but he came down, further than you did.”

  That made absolutely no sense. Faith wanted to shout at him, tell him that no one could go down further, because this was the Second. This was under earth in the scheme of realms. It was why there was no moon, no stars at night. Things were different here because it was under. To say he came down further would mean…

  “Surely you don’t think your earth is on top? Your kind, egocentric as they are, might call this the Second, but do the inhabitants of this world not call yours the Middleworld?” Hart paused, watching her reaction with interest. “In order for it to be a world in the middle, there must be a world above.” He snapped his thumb and his finger together, and the New York landscape morphed yet again. “My father,” Hart explained, “your grandfather, was from the Upperworld.”

  The world around her was a world of night. A land that stretched on for miles, grassless and treeless. Nothing growing on it at all. It looked like an alien planet, a strange place, something out of a sci-fi show. Faith looked up at the sky, holding in a gasp at the colors above her.

  The moon was huge, so much closer than it was on earth. It hung above her head, surrounded by bright, dancing colors. An aurora borealis of shades of pinks and purples and blues, teal here and there, all congealing in the sky, thousands of bright stars dotting the area behind it.

  The Upperworld was strangely beautiful.

  Before she could say anything, Hart ended the illusion, and they were back in the tree, on the platform. “You were meant for so much more than the Harbinger name you bear.”

  The revelations made her feel sick. It was too much. Another world? A world the Humans had no idea about? For her grandfather to have come down from the Upperworld, to the Second, all to procreate and give rise to Hart, he must’ve had extreme power, since it all happened before the gateways were permanently opened.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she muttered, feeling tired, even though she’d just woken up. All that truth was heavy, and she wanted to unload it like a dump truck. But she couldn’t. This was her destiny, and by God, she just had to grin and bear it, make the most of it, whether she wanted to or not.

  If Faith had to be the savior of all of the damn worlds, she would be.

  “Don’t say anything,” Hart advised. “Just think about what you’ve been shown, for as soon as you leave this place, things will progress rapidly for you. For now, tonight, we celebrate. You, my daughter, are finally here with us.” He offered her his hand, which she stared at for the longest while. “Come. Let me take your mind off it, for a little while, at least.”

  Oh, hell no. She was not about to take her father’s hand and have him lead her through the Eldertree like she was some kind of wide-eyed, dumb kid. She’d go with him, see what the Fae had to offer, but no handholding.

  Faith was never one to drink; her life had been too busy with going to school and training for the Academy, but today? Today she felt the sudden urge to drink. Bury her sorrows. Her responsibilities, even if it was only for tonight.

  Saving three worlds was definitely too much responsibility. Partying it up with the Fae wouldn’t kill her. Besides—it might actually be fun, so long as everyone kept their body parts to themselves.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Fae festivities were basically just a giant party. A giant party with lots of strangely-colored drinks, an overabundance of laughing, and group sex had in public for everyone to see. Faith steered away from those groups, of course. The only people she wanted to have sex with were her guys, and who knew how far away they were. She did decide to take some of the glowing purple drink, though.

  She’d never been one to drink at home, so she had no idea what her tolerance level was or how strong the drink was, but she downed the wooden cup’s contents in less than twenty minutes and went for another, already feeling the effects in the form of tingly fingertips and a head that felt a tad too heavy. Was this why people liked to drink? It made them feel all fuzzy inside? Faith didn’t get it, but she was going to have another. It tasted like grape soda.

  The Fae in the nearby area had transformed the space at the base of the Eldertree into a frenzy. Just outside its huge trunk, at least a hundred Fae partied it up like it was the end of the world. Or maybe this was what they did every night. Maybe this was a welcome Faith party. If all of this was for her, she didn’t know what to think.

  One of the naturalists had grown a throne from the pink vines, and Hart sat in it, drinking out of his cup slowly and watching the festivities. He’d changed out of his outfit from before, now wearing a brightly-colored tunic and pants that matched. These Fae and their bright colors. Even though this alcoholic stuff was coursing its way through her system, Faith still knew she liked black clothes better.

  She was kind of mad at Hart, so she didn’t go up and talk to him, mostly because after learning everything was pretty much done to create her, to bring her here so she could stop whatever crazy evil Fae was out there, wanting world domination, what could she possibly say? What words could she use to describe how conflicted she felt about it all?

  Yes, it was obvious the Fae chick had to be stopped, because no world deserved to be taken over by a madwoman. But all those Fae in New Hope, what he did to her mother—things like that were hard to reconcile. Faith hated him for what he did, and she hated him even more because he probably looked the exact same as he did all those years ago. Hart seemed ageless. If there was anything Faith should’ve inherited from him, it was that.

  Still, she didn’t want to die. Call her selfish. Call her immature. Call her whatever. Faith wanted to live, and she wanted to be happy. It wasn’t too much to ask, considering most people her age were choosing which colleges to go to and moving onto their sixth year at the Academy.

  Faith found a stump, nearly spilling her glass of fruity, glowing liquid as she sat, her shoulders slumped. She thought about her best friend, about Cara, what she was doing right now. Did her friend think of her often? Did her friend th
ink she was dead already? Being fated—no, cursed—to go against the Dread King was a death sentence. Now that she knew the truth, she was up against someone even worse. A pretty Fae woman who was batshit crazy. What would Cara do in this situation?

  Faith knew she would never have agreed to be in a relationship with multiple men at the same time, but Faith and Cara were universally different when it came to guys. Faith’s family had bad experiences with men, which was always why her grandma tried to get her to swing the other way, to start liking girls, like she had. Girls were fine enough, but they did nothing for Faith. Men were just so…manly. Their shoulders, their backs, their stomachs…not to mention the dicks. How would having sex with another woman even work?

  Okay, that was definitely something she shouldn’t be thinking about right now.

  She took another sip of her drink, trying to make this one last longer. Her head felt buzzed, light and feathery. This stuff clearly had an effect on her, and it was a slow-building effect. She didn’t want to overdo it and get blackout drunk. These Fae, they all knew she was Hart’s daughter, but she didn’t trust them. She didn’t trust any of them, not even Swift and Foresh, who she’d seen in a group sex session not too far from where she currently sat. She saw way too much skin. More skin than she ever wanted to see.

  Fae parties were like ancient Roman parties. Or Greek parties. Tons of alcohol and free-for-all sex. Faith could only partake in the former bit, not the latter, no matter how many invites she got—and she received quite a few. It seemed every Fae in the area wanted to sleep with Hart’s daughter. Whether it was because they’d get bragging rights or because they were simply curious, she didn’t care.

  She wasn’t going to mess up again. Kissing Finn before talking to the others had been a mistake. Keeping Dracyrus’s link to herself was another mistake. Faith didn’t always make the best decisions, but she would do better. She had to do better.

  Her eyelids fluttered closed as she sighed, her chest feeling warm from the drink. It was a nice feeling, although it seemed to be growing as more minutes passed by. The sun had set a while ago; where it should’ve been pitch-black outside, the sky was illuminated with the glowing leaves of the Eldertree, touching everything with a colorful hue.

  Faith was slow to open her eyes, finding a Fae woman approaching her. Not just any Fae woman—Rose. Still barefoot, but she’d changed into a beautiful pink dress that hugged her body tightly until her hips, where it flared out into dozens of cut pieces, all feathery and wispy. Her orange hair was down, hanging over a single shoulder, her eyes, a similar hue, seeming to glow. She held onto something, but Faith was too busy patting the space beside her.

  Rose sat next to her, the bundle of whatever it was on her lap. She had no drink in her hand, which Faith found sad. The stuff was tasty, with no bad aftertaste. “You look…” Rose paused. “…happy.”

  Faith shrugged. “It’s hard not to be happy when I finally know the truth.”

  “You spoke with the Lionheart.”

  “I did. Why does everyone know he’s my father?” It was a little creepy. Everyone knew who Faith was, which was why they constantly stared at her. Hart was capable of sheer cruelty and death; they probably wondered if she was, too.

  Rose said, “Hart’s been waiting for you for a long time. We all knew the next Harbinger would be his daughter, and that you’d be the last.” Her lips curled into a slow smile, and Faith found herself grinning back. “No pressure at all, but we do hope you save us.”

  Chuckling, Faith said, “Yeah, no pressure. Just save all the worlds. It’s something I do every day, really. No biggie.”

  She giggled. “I have confidence in you, Faith.” Rose spoke her name with a kind of delicacy Faith wasn’t used to. The Fae woman still smiled, and Faith lost herself for a moment. Her eyes were the brightest, clearest orange she’d ever seen, set in a face with flawless skin, not a single scar or a blemish. She was small and lithe like all Fae were, but she was beautiful all the same.

  Sighing, Faith muttered, “You’re all so pretty. If I’m part Fae, why don’t I look as pretty as you?” Not her specifically, but it was too late to add that to her question now. She took another sip of her drink, feeling its glowing, warm liquid falling down her throat slowly.

  Rose’s eyes fell, studying Faith’s body, which was a hell of a lot curvier and leaner than hers. “Your mother was Human. You took after her most,” she told her, her gaze flicking back up. “But you have a Fae’s eyes.”

  “I have the same eyes as Hart.”

  She nodded, leaning closer to her. “Yes, but you also have the same mischievous glint in them all Fae do.” Her eyes fell once again, only this time, Faith knew exactly what she was looking at. “The same sly smile. You may not look like a Fae, but you are one of us.”

  One of us.

  Why did those words warm her belly? Why did Faith want to be one of them? She had a family back home, a mother she got along with ten percent of the time and a hilarious grandma she adored. One of us—these were her people, her Fae. She was one of them, even if she didn’t look exactly like them.

  “I—” Faith wanted to say something; she wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to say, but in the end, it didn’t matter, because something happened she totally wasn’t expecting. Something she wasn’t prepared for at all. Something that caught her so off-guard, all she could do was freeze in shock.

  Rose kissed her.

  She leaned over more, closing the rest of the distance between them, pressing her lips against hers. Soft lips, warm lips, lips that made Faith temporarily forget her worries. Forget everything, actually. Her eyes closed, and maybe it was the drink, maybe it was the growing heat in her belly, but she wanted to give in. Give in to whatever this was.

  But…no. She couldn’t. She had a group of guys she was pledged to, another Dracon she had feelings for, not to mention the fact she didn’t swing Rose’s way, even if her lips were ridiculously soft and inviting.

  Faith pulled herself away, causing Rose to give her a confused look. “I can’t,” Faith said. “I have people that I…” Care about didn’t seem to do her feelings for her guys justice, so she changed gears, “People that I love. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

  Rose didn’t look upset, though she did seem somewhat sad. “Oh. Don’t. I’m sorry. I just—I should’ve asked. I assumed…” Her head fell, and she gazed at the object on her lap. It was then Faith recognized it—the cloak. Dracyrus’s cloak. “I cleaned it for you, re-stitched some of the fur, as it was coming off.” Rose handed her the cloak, falling silent. Awkward.

  “Thank you,” Faith said.

  “For you, anything,” Rose replied with a gentle smile. Her hand went towards Faith’s hair, tucking a stray flyaway behind her ear, her touch lingering on her cheek. “If you ever change your mind, you know where I’ll be.” She got up and walked away, leaving Faith to wonder just what she would change her mind about.

  Kissing her? Doing…doing more with her? That was not something Faith could handle, not something she wanted. Right now, the only reason she wasn’t freaking out about the kiss was because of the glowing purple drink in her hand, not to mention the cloak in the other.

  Dracyrus’s cloak. His sister’s cloak.

  Faith brought it up to her nose, inhaling the fur. Rose had cleaned it well; it didn’t smell of body odor, and the color was cleaner, crisper. The cape itself was a dark, scaly grey while the fur was a lighter color, bits of white amongst the grey fur. Even though it was clean, she could pick up his scent. Fire, brimstone. Dracyrus.

  And then, maybe it was because of her drink, an idea came to her. She’d kissed Finn without telling them. She wouldn’t wait and tell them about Rose. She’d do it now.

  Getting to her feet, swaying slightly, Faith set her cup down and tied the cloak around her shoulders. It fit her perfectly, whereas on Dracyrus, it lined the back of his shoulders and fell to his waist. God, he really was a monster of a man, wasn’t he? How big would his dick
be?

  No. She should not be thinking of that.

  Faith grabbed her cup and took another swig, starting to move through the crowds of boisterous Fae, many of them who were currently in the middle of sexy times. Faith wanted to have sex. She missed being close to her guys. Missed all of them.

  Her lips tingled, a reminder of Rose’s sudden kiss, and Faith picked up the pace, moving inside the Eldertree’s base and stumbling to her room. It was only when she was alone with the door closed that she tripped and sat herself on the edge of her bed, calling out to him.

  Having never done it on purpose before, she wasn’t sure how to do it. Calling his name out loud seemed as good a thing to do as any, right?

  “Dracyrus!” Faith shouted, feeling her body tingling all over. She could really use some physical relief right now, and she didn’t mean she had to pee, which would mean she’d have to go outside for that, because the Fae had not discovered indoor plumbing. No, she meant she wanted to get down and frisky. Freaky and dirty. She wanted to roll in a bed with one of her guys, or all of them, and make sweet, passionate love.

  Shit. This drink was affecting her more than she thought it was. Maybe she should not drink anymore.

  She took another sip before that thought fully processed, smiling to herself. “Dracyrus! Where are you? I need you.” Ever since her mind had gone there, she couldn’t stop wondering about his dick. Were Dracon dicks different? Did they have scales? Were they spiky? Would it hurt going in? Hell, even if his dick wasn’t scaled or spiky, even if it didn’t have any extra bits to it, odds were it would still hurt like a bitch going in. She was nowhere near his size, and she could only assume her vagina was not equipped for such a monster.

  A monster dick.

  Faith started laughing to herself, and it was at that moment when the man with the dick in question appeared on the ground before her, sitting up as if he’d been asleep. “What’s going on? Are you hurt?” He sounded out of it. Dracyrus, a drowsy Dracon. She never would’ve thought.