Fireblood

by Wolfe, Trisha

  The early-morning chill seeps in through the stone walls, and Devlan slides his hand into mine as we make our way up the steps toward the top level of the castle.

  Before we reach the head of the tunnel, I turn and face him. “I should go to my chamber alone.”

  He shakes his head. “I’m not letting you out of my—”

  I press my finger to his mouth. “I’m going on my own. I can’t chance that Sebastian, or one of the other courtiers, will come stumbling along from the party and see us together.”

  His face winces into a pained expression. “Let me contact Xander first.”

  “Devlan. I promise I’ll be fine. I’ve roamed the castle by myself before.”

  His eyebrows pull together. “Contact me when you get to your room.”

  I nod and turn to go, but he tugs my skirt, pulling me back. He cups the back of my neck and pulls me to him, pressing his lips to mine. I kiss him with purpose, and his lips achingly work against mine. As I break the kiss, I refuse to meet his eyes. I turn and open the door, then slip into the hallway. I don’t want the worried look I know he now wears to linger with me all day until I see him again.

  When I reach the open hall, I look at the tournament field. It’s dark, and torches burn low, displaying the leftover party debris. The servants will soon be up to clear it away before the morning comes.

  Dashing down the corridor to my room, I come to a complete halt when I see Xander outside my door. His head jerks my way, and he advances on me quickly.

  “Princess, the prince was looking for you.” Worry narrows his eyes. “I told him that you weren’t feeling well, and had requested to be left alone. I offered to keep guard over you for the rest of the night.”

  I relax my stiff shoulders. “Thank you, Xander.” His face is too drawn for that to be all, though. “What else?”

  “I fear this is not the only night you’ll be watched.” He lowers his voice. “The prince is very suspicious. Starting tomorrow, two guards will be stationed with you at all times. And we’re to swap shifts outside your chamber during the night.”

  “Maybe it was a request after he had too much to drink,” I say. “I’ll speak with him.”

  “He was sober when I last saw him.”

  My brow creases. “I’ll still talk with him.” He nods, and I go into my room.

  Sebastian has gone too far. This is dangerous. My mission depends heavily on his trust in me. I squeeze my eyes shut. Somehow, I must get that trust back. My stomach sinks, knowing just how difficult that will be after the way we parted last.

  * * *

  The stadium is full of spectators. I wait for Sebastian to join me in the risers. He didn’t act suspicious at breakfast, but he also didn’t acknowledge his actions of the night before.

  I saw him glance at my lips more than once, or maybe it was simply paranoia making me feel the weight of his stare. I had to grip my dress to stop myself from covering the guilty offenders. I’m his betrothed, but my heart doesn’t belong to him. I told him from the start that my feelings for him would never be romantic. I can’t help that his pride will not accept this. It’s not guilt I feel for breaking any vow to him, but rather worry that I may have botched the mission, that I’ve failed to protect him.

  Before I entered the tournament area, I sent word to Devlan through Xander. Using our communicators feels unwise. We’re so close; there’s no room for error. Xander made the case for me that, now I’m being watching more closely, I won’t be able to meet him tonight, or the following two nights we have left before the ceremony. It tore at my heart to do so, but it’s just too dangerous. I know Devlan will understand once he hears the circumstances. It was he that night in the meadow, as we watched Fallon and Xander embrace, who conveyed his feelings on love and duty.

  Duty comes first. Love is a distraction, and one that could endanger all involved. I trust that he’ll remember his words now.

  The knights gather on horseback, meeting in the center of the field before the announcer introduces the next event. Sebastian sits down next to me, and my heart nearly leaps from my chest at his sudden arrival.

  “I didn’t see you coming up the stands.” I smile and nod toward the field. “This is going to be exciting.” I can’t believe that I’m the one expected to make amends, but I have no choice. I at least have to restore our friendship, as I must convince him to take me to King Hart before our ceremony. I swallow my pride.

  He takes my hand in his and his fingers squeeze mine painfully. I try to jerk out of his grip, but he pulls me closer to his side. “You will not get back into my good graces with sweet words, Zara.”

  Attempting to hide a scene from the spectators around us, I lean into him and whisper, “What then, my lord, will forgive my error?” I grind out the words, and then dig my nail into the top of his hand.

  He releases his hold on me with a sharp laugh. “Certainly not words.” He looks at me, and his golden eyes darken as his face hardens. “But, I suppose it will make for a splendid wedding night to have you prove your apology then.”

  My mouth falls open, but I hold my tongue from spilling the insults ready on it. It’s as if he’s forgotten his actions of last night completely, believing his own makings of the events. I eye him curiously, trying to see a spark of recognition behind the angry gaze.

  It’s not there. Only the cold and callous air of a king.

  Turning to face the tournament field, I lay my hand in my lap and straighten my back. After a moment, when he realizes he won’t get a rise out of me, he does the same.

  I loathe myself, wishing I could come clean and simply tell him everything, and that he’d know the right thing to do about King Hart. All this manipulation is eating my soul. I saw the hate in his eyes—the anger—last night in the garden, and I see it now. He’s walking a fine line between becoming the king his father raised him to be, and the leader I know he can be.

  I’ve seen the compassion in his eyes before. Like the first day he took me to the meadow, and when he helped the pregnant woman. The light is there. I can almost reach out and feel the tension surrounding him—his inner battle.

  I wish my head and my heart would quit combating each other. I know my mission. I know what I’ve vowed to the Rebels and to myself. But there is a heaviness weighing on my heart, telling me I’m missing something. If I falter now, all could be lost.

  The war against Outside. The Taken. My father.

  Everything.

  I know that Devlan would tell me to hold strong, that this is the sure course. Only, I’ve seen the question in Devlan’s eyes, each of the times he’s trained me, and when he offered to take my place to take on Hart. Did he doubt me so then? Does he still have doubt?

  I feel Devlan’s scar beneath my fingers, and envision the sneer on Sebastian’s face as he inflicted it, as he gave in to Hart’s commands.

  What’s right? What am I supposed to do?

  I sink into my chair, feeling as if my mind is weighing me down. I imagine Devlan’s arms wrapped around me, sheltering me from my own thoughts. Pressing my palm over the communicator in my bodice, I try to feel the strength that Devlan claims he sees in me.

  TWENTY-NINE

  “We’re cutting it close.” Xander adjusts his sword to his hip.

  The morning sun shines through the canopy of tree branches, the meadow covered in a misty fog. I clasp my jeweled sash behind my back as Xander packs our training supplies. Hiking the hem of my white gown above the dew and sap-covered pine straw, I hustle toward the wall opening. Nothing can catch Sebastian’s notice.

  Once we’re on the other side of the brook, I look over at Xander. “You truly feel I’m ready?”

  Xander grasps Sterlyn’s reins and hands them to me. “Yes, Zara. You’re ready.” The confidence in his voice doesn’t match the waver I glimpse in his deep brown eyes.

  I nod, hoping that Xander’s hesitation is an inner reflection, and not solely doubt in me. We’re all preoccupied with our own parts of this mission
. I mount my horse while Xander gets atop his. “You’ve been distracted during training, Xander. What’s been on your mind?”

  He looks at the ground before kicking his heels. “Fallon and I have been having a disagreement.” I trot Sterlyn beside his gray horse as he continues. “I’ve never gone against any of her orders…until now.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but I’m unsure how. Xander’s in a difficult position if he disagrees with an order from the Rebel leader. I know he respects her as his leader, but he’s also in love with her, which might cloud his judgment. Going against a command on his part would take great strength, as I’ve seen them together. I know he’d do anything for her, and anything she’d ask of him.

  I’m curious if the order has anything to do with me, and I can’t help but ask, “Does it have to do with the mission?”

  Even over the sound of the forest floor crunching beneath our horses’ hooves, I hear his deep sigh. “Partly. It’s more personal, though.” He glances at me. “And I’d rather keep certain things undisclosed. Not to you, Zara,” he quickly adds. “But to all.”

  I look ahead to the plain coming into view. “We’re allowed our secrets, Xander. Sometimes, they’re what keep us who we are.”

  Saying this, I wonder if I truly believe it. I’ve been keeping my own secrets. Everyone believes it’s the right thing to do, but I still tussle with the choice I’ve made to keep Sebastian in the dark.

  “Although,” I add. “The truth can be quite liberating. I guess you have to question who it would affect and how.”

  The lines of his forehead deepen, the corners of his eyes frown, and he pulls his horse to a stop. “But it’s none of my business.” I shake my head. “I’ve only known you and Fallon a short while, and I don’t know the circumstances. But I trust you both.”

  Xander’s eyes stare out over the plain, a far-off expression on his face. “Fallon is a true leader.”

  “As are you, Xander.” I turn Sterlyn to face him. “You’re second in command, and I would trust an order from you as much as from Fallon.”

  His eyes meet mine, and a slow smile crawls up his face. “You would? The stubborn, reluctant princess?”

  “Hey!” I can’t help but laugh.

  He holds up his hands. “Devlan’s words.” His smile falls a bit, and he says, “But thank you, Zara. You truly are ready, and if all this had never happened, I’d have willingly followed you as my queen.”

  His admission stuns me as much as the somberness in his tone. He’s carrying a heavy burden, one I hope he finds an answer to in the end. For both him and Fallon.

  I raise my brows and lighten my voice. “Well, as it is, Sir Xander,” I bow my head regally, “I’m lucky to have a noble leader to follow.”

  He laughs, and his heavy chuckle bounces off the woods. “I hope that you don’t regret those words, m’lady.”

  Before I can comment, he gives me a full Xander smile, then kicks the sides of his horse and gallops off. I puzzle over his words only a moment before following him.

  Xander and I quickly stable our horses when we reach the court grounds, then rush toward the castle to meet Sebastian at the tournament.

  My conversation with Xander still sits heavily on the front of my mind, but my nerves are making it difficult to think of anything other than tonight. This is it. The last day of the tournament and the ceremonial marriage of Prince Sebastian to his chosen princess. Everything depends on today. And me.

  Devlan has spent the past two days stationed in the knights’ quarters on the opposite wing of the castle, training for the last match of the tournament. He’s being watched closely by the Force, and we couldn’t take the chance we’d be caught together and have it reported back to Sebastian. Xander took over my training, but we’ve only had an hour each day during my morning rides. Anything more is too risky.

  Xander continually tells me of Devlan’s confidence in my skills, and it’s what I desire to hear. Only, I need to hear Devlan’s endorsement with my own ears, look into his eyes as he says it, but I know that’s asking too much. I trust he’d stop the mission if he were unsure.

  Every moment that I’ve not been with Madity making preparations, I’ve been with Sebastian. Late-night suppers. Dancing beneath the stars at the tourney celebrations. Long walks around the lake, where I tried to coax him into the pleasant conversation we once shared. And all the while, my soul was burdened with guilt.

  Guilt that I have failed him. Guilt that I have failed my father.

  And Devlan.

  Although my attempts to garner Sebastian’s trust have proven somewhat beneficial, as he’s removed my second guard, I’m not sure it’s enough. Every time he attempted to kiss me, my heart panged, and I pulled away. He believes I have strong convictions about marriage, and Devlan’s absence has helped, but I still see the doubt in his eyes.

  All around me is doubt. It festers in the air, and I struggle to breathe through the suffocation of it.

  After the last event—the battle between Sebastian and Devlan—I must convince Sebastian to take me to King Hart. I’ll have mere hours before the ceremony starts, and my mind struggles with what I must do.

  I envision Devlan’s confident features, his sturdy voice as he tells me to see this through. However, I also feel the doubt that’s been with me from the beginning. I believe Sebastian can come out of this a good leader, a good person. But his recent bouts of anger and the cool, calculated look he gets lately splinter my mind with more poisonous thorns of doubt. What if losing his father sends him in the opposite direction?

  Telling Sebastian the truth would open his eyes, and there might not be a need to continue this lie. There might be another way to stop Hart altogether. Or it could backfire, and I could lose Sebastian completely to the darkness seething in him. There are too many scenarios to factor in.

  Right now, I can’t consider them. I have to continue with the Rebel’s plan. It’s been in effect long before I was involved, so it’s possible I’m only getting “cold feet.” Just not in the traditional wedding style.

  As we reach the tournament, the stands are already full. All of Karm has come to watch their prince face off with last season’s defending champion. My head swims as I search the knights gathered on the sidelines.

  Sebastian requested that I meet him near the tent before the match starts, and I’m late. Dammit. I can’t afford to slip up now.

  “There.” Xander points to Sebastian suiting up in his armor next to the tent flaps.

  I breathe a sigh of relief and head toward him.

  “Zara,” Sebastian says. “I was worried you’d gotten lost.” He finishes adjusting his armor, and then kisses my hand. “I didn’t want to go in without my good-luck charm’s well wishes.”

  Smiling, I allow him to hold my hand, and I even step into his embrace. “I had a difficult time spotting you amongst the other knights.” I mentally slap myself. “Until I spied your strong physique, that is.”

  His eyes bloom with pride. Sebastian has always responded well to compliments. “As stimulated as I am by this battle, it doesn’t compare to the eagerness I feel for tonight.” His eyes linger on my face, and my stomach quivers at his implied innuendo. “When I can announce to all that you’re my wife, my queen, and my love.”

  I give him a relieved smile, but his eyes move past me, to something over my shoulder. I start to turn my head to follow his gaze, but he quickly pulls me close, and I catch my breath. His fingers weave their way into my hair, and he presses his lips to mine. I’m shocked only a moment before I push against his chest, try to back him away. His lips are hard and forceful, claiming every inch of me for himself.

  The announcer on the field introduces the tourney and Sebastian pulls away. “To be continued soon,” he says, then turns and struts toward his audience.

  My stomach twists, and I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth. As I turn, I see what Sebastian glimpsed over my shoulder, and my heart slams against my rib cage.

  De
vlan stands a few feet away, sword in hand, his face drawn in anger. I can see the rise and fall of his chest, the fury simmering as he stares after Sebastian.

  I step toward him, but Xander catches my arm. “Not now, princess.”

  Devlan’s name is announced from the platform. His eyes latch onto me as he closes the gap between us, making his way to the field.

  “Devlan.” I breathe his name before he passes, but he only returns his gaze to the stage.

  Xander ushers me toward the stands. My legs are numb as I climb the bleachers. When we’re seated in the box, I stare at the platform below as they prepare for the match. My breathing is labored, and I grip the locket around my neck, wanting to yank it off.

  Maybe Sebastian is convinced I don’t have affections for another, but he still believes that Devlan has feelings for me. He purposely staked his claim on me to infuriate Devlan before their match. Anger boils in my chest.

  Xander leans into me. “Zara,” he whispers. “Devlan doesn’t fault you. He’s not angry with you, as he knows this is part of the mission. He’s angered by the situation.”

  I nod slowly, my neck stiff with tension. “And if it were Fallon?” I turn my head to meet his eyes.

  He groans and looks to the platform. “Sebastian would be a dead man.”

  My palms slick with sweat, and I run them along my dress as Sebastian and Devlan meet in the center. The announcer waves a white flag and their swords clang together. The sound sends a tremor down my spine, and I dig my fingers into my thighs.

  I watched Sebastian take on many men during the melee, but Devlan too has faced the same number and come out the victor. I don’t know how evenly matched they are, or who holds the most spite for the other. All I know is both have scores to settle.

  Sebastian believes Devlan is after his betrothed, maybe even assumes it’s revenge for what he did to Devlan years back. And Devlan…what? Does he truly feel Sebastian is a threat? No. He can’t possibly. Although, he does carry the deep scar of a painful wound, and Sebastian’s bruises on my wrists and arms may have reopened it.