Several of the soldiers grunted in response. Their horses shifted underneath them, hooves stomping the dusty ground. Bree stared up at them all, silently demanding they explain themselves. How could they follow this Queen after what she had done? Why didn’t they revolt against her rule?
But the Queen had no reaction to their mutterings. Instead, she turned toward the female who still held a tight grip on Bree and motioned for her to let go.
“I am growing impatient. Give her to me so we can put an end to this reign once and for all.” The Queen’s voice was full of ice and a raw kind of power that made Bree’s bones ache from dread.
The female shoved Bree toward the Queen, and there was a sweet, sweet moment of pure freedom. Bree focused her thoughts on the beast within. The Queen could try whatever she liked, but she would be no match for the wolf. It raged inside of her, its insides desperate for a taste of the Queen’s blood. And for once, Bree would give in to whatever the beast desired.
She gritted her teeth and forced her limbs to shift, but...nothing happened.
She focused on her hands, on her claws. They didn’t come to her.
Frustration churned through her, tears pricking her eyes. What the hell was happening? Why wouldn’t her beast respond? She could feel it inside of her, pacing and roaring and hungry for blood. Why would it not come out?
The Queen let out a light laugh, one that whispered away on the cool wind. “You must think I am an amateur, and you must be wondering why you cannot shift.” She leaned down and hissed into Bree’s face, her breath smelling like iron and salt. “I brought a Hawkborn with me. It will not allow you to shift in my presence.”
Shit, Bree thought. So much for that bright idea.
And, unfortunately, it also meant that Bree was completely out of bright ideas now.
The Queen wrapped her icy hands around Bree’s wrists and yanked her to her feet. She was surprisingly strong, and her grip was so tight that it made Bree’s hands begin to tingle in response.
Dropping back her head, the Queen called out toward the gates of the castle that looked as silent and as still as a graveyard. “King Taveon. I have your champion, and I have your newest recruit. Surrender your Court and your castle to me or I will kill them both.”
Bree’s heart thundered hard. If only Taveon hadn’t been forced to break the bond between them, Bree could communicate her plans to him. And she could use his power as her own. She could try to free Eurig and sacrifice herself to the Queen. She wouldn’t know about the immortality.
The Queen waited, and silence rained down all around them.
Bree sniffed and gave the Queen a wicked smile. “You’re barking up the wrong tree here. The King is...indisposed. I thought you knew that though. Or did someone else come up with that clever curse thing?”
The Queen’s eyes glittered, and she did not deem it necessary to give Bree even the slightest of glances. “Do not play coy. I know that you were somehow able to reverse the curse I put on these fae. And the villagers. And the Wilde Fae. The King is very much awake, and he is watching us.”
Shivers coursed along Bree’s skin. So much for that approach.
After several more moments of brutal silence, the Queen wrapped one hand around Bree’s throat and dug her sharp fingernails into her skin. Bree swallowed hard, and sparks dotted her vision. As much as Bree did not want Taveon to succumb to this Queen, she also knew exactly what this meant for her life.
The Queen would not hesitate to kill her. She was not bluffing. If Taveon did not surrender, Bree was dead.
Bree closed her eyes, letting her mind replay every moment of her life. From her childhood spent exploring the Manhattan streets with Norah, to the moment when she’d been infected by the Redcap virus and she’d fled to the safety of the Light Fae realm. To the moment when she’d passed through that Faerie Ring and into Underworld. Knowing Rafe. Knowing Taveon. Knowing Eurig.
Both the good and the bad, she cherished.
“This is my last warning, King Taveon,” the Queen called out, the screech in her voice betraying her calm and collected exterior. “Surrender. Or she dies this night.”
In the distance, Bree heard the unmistakable clank of the iron gates opening wide.
No, her mind raged. Stop!
Her eyes flew open, and Bree spotted Taveon’s tall and commanding form striding through the open gates, his hands held up as if in surrender.
He couldn’t. Taveon could not surrender his crown and his court to this monster. She would kill them all. She would tear every last one of the fae to shreds. And she wouldn’t stop there. There was greed in the Queen’s eyes. She would not be satisfied until she sat on every single throne she could. And that included far more than just those found in this realm.
Taveon strode closer, and Bree’s heart ran wild. Her eyes flicked to Eurig who stared down at the ground in defeat. The Hawkborn would prevent her from shifting, but there had to be something else she could do.
The dagger, a little voice whispered into her mind. Dagen’s dagger.
She’d shoved it into the little hidden folds of the Dark Fae fighting leathers when she’d been forced to change into a new set of clothes. It was right there, just within her reach. If she was quick enough...
Without giving her mind a chance to talk herself out of it, Bree shoved her hand into her leathers, wrapped her fingers around the golden hilt, and then whirled toward the Queen. The blade found its mark, sinking into the Queen’s forehead with a sickening crunch.
Bree’s hands flew to her mouth, and she stumbled back. Horror churned through her gut. Blood poured from the wound, pooling around the hilt that protruded from the Queen’s head. The female’s eyes went round, and then she fell straight back, slamming hard against the ground.
Shouts exploded all around her and rough hands grabbed her arms. The soldiers leapt from their horses, surrounding both Eurig and Bree. Their faces were screwed up in anger, though others looked jubilant and surprised. Every sword was raised, and every bow was drawn. And Bree had no idea who was pointing at who, and who was pointing at her.
“Let me go,” Eurig said, his voice as clear as the moonlit sky. “I am Eurig, son of Clarke, and I demand that you let me go.”
The fae who held him dropped his grip and stepped back, and several of the outposters fell to the ground on their knees, bowing before him.
“Let her go, too,” he said to the half a dozen outposters who had surrounded Bree.
“Eurig,” one of the males said, frowning. “She stabbed our Queen.”
“Let her go,” he said again. He stood tall before them, his presence commanding and full of power. It was a side to him he’d never shown Bree, and she almost felt compelled to fall to her knees as well.
The fae let her go, but they did not disperse from around her. They still hung in close, eyeing her with a wariness that made Bree’s head spin. She hadn’t really thought things through. Killing the Queen had seemed like the best idea in the world, but only if the outposters hated her.
And it appeared they didn’t. Or, at least some of them didn’t.
Eurig took a step in close to her and dropped his voice to a low whisper. “There is something I must do, Bree. It is the only way to save us both. I...I will miss you.”
Those last few words were so low that Bree couldn’t be sure she’d actually heard them. And then he stepped back, putting as much distance between them as he could. He turned toward the outposters, looking each one in the eye.
“She killed the Queen!” one shouted.
Another outposter dropped back his head and yelled, “We must avenge her death! Down with Taveon’s court!”
Eurig held up a hand. “There will be no avenging. There will be no retaliation. I am Eurig, bastard son of Clarke, and I present myself to you as your future King. And my first order to you is this: I will lead us back to our lands, and we will spill no more blood here this night.”
Epilogue
Bree
Bree sat in the balcony of the highest tower, staring glumly out at the setting moon. It had been more than a week since the outposters had tried to take control of Taveon’s castle, but she hadn’t been able to celebrate their win.
Rafe eased in behind her, settling onto the stone perch that jutted out over the top of the Keep. “I thought I might find you here.”
Bree hugged her knees to her chest and sighed. “Am I that predictable?”
“No. You’re not.” He elbowed her in the side and smiled. “But your emotions are written all over your face, Bree. You miss him.”
Every part of her heart felt broken into pieces. She not only missed him, but she felt betrayed. He was supposed to stay with her, he was supposed to fight by her side. Instead, he’d abandoned her the moment he had the chance to grasp his crown. She remembered having asked him if he wanted to go back home, and he’d said no.
She felt like an idiot for believing him.
“Missing him would mean that I actually want to see him again,” Bree muttered.
“He did what he had to do, and you know it,” Rafferty said. “If he didn’t take charge, they would have killed you and then swarmed the gates of the castle. And they probably would have killed half of their own while they were at it. Some of them wanted to crown you Queen for what you did, and some of them wanted to rip you to shreds. It would have only ended in chaos.”
Her heart squeezed tight. “But he didn’t even say goodbye. He just left. He didn’t even cast a glance over his shoulder when he walked away.”
“Probably because he could not bear to see the look on your face,” Rafe said with a sigh. “Listen, Bree. Eurig is not my favorite fae in this realm. We have had our differences, do not forget. All that said, there is no denying that he would do anything for Taveon. And, I daresay, anything for you. He did not take the crown because he wants power. He took it because he saw no other way.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Tears sprung into her eyes and then leaked out onto her cheeks. “Either way, I’ll never get to see him again.”
Rafferty gave her a sad smile. “Then, I suppose you are just stuck with me.”
Bree caught his glance, and the hardness around her heart softened. She could not be sad with Rafe by her side. Yes, she would always miss Eurig. They had shared something between them that she would never forget, no matter if he ruled the outposts or not.
“I brought something for you,” he said, reaching into a rucksack that Bree had not noticed until now. With a soft smile, he pulled her old fighting leathers out of the bag. Bree’s eyes widened. How had he managed that? They’d been torn to shreds. She’d left the pieces of them behind on the rolling hills.
Bree reached out and fingered the soft material. Those were her leathers through and through. “How?”
“Taveon told me what happened and how upset you were about losing them, so I found the scraps and asked one of our best seamstresses to mend them for you,” Rafe said, pressing his lips together into a thin line. “I know they’re important to you. They’re your link back to your home.”
Bree glanced up and smiled at him, the sadness in her heart being replaced with someone else. Love. “Thank you for this, Rafe, but you know what? Why don’t you hold on to them for now?”
Confusion rippled across his handsome features. “I don’t understand.”
“This is my home now, Rafe. Here with you and Taveon. I don’t need my old fighting leathers to remind me of who I once was anymore.” She rested her hand on top of his and squeezed tight. “Besides, I have new fighting leathers now. Ones that I have to admit fit me much better than the old ones ever did.”
And she had Rafe. Her sexy, smart, strong, and kindhearted Rafe. Smiling, she leaned into him and pressed her lips tight against his. Everything would be okay as long as she had Rafe.
Back in her quarters, she began to pack her things together. She would move back into Rafe’s rooms now. He and Taveon had told her that they had redecorated it somehow, and she couldn’t wait to see what they’d been up to. It was good timing. After Eurig’s retreat, she did not want to sleep alone anymore. It only reminded her that he’d left.
But things were looking up. The Court was finally starting to go back to normal, and Taveon had begun to rule his people with the kindness and thoughtfulness he’d always promised. And, Bree had to admit, he looked damn good on the throne. Like he belonged there.
A knock sounded on the door, and she turned toward it with a smile, expecting Rafe or Taveon.
Instead, it was Fillan.
Her stomach dropped. She’d forgotten all about the assassin and his demand that she find out Taveon’s secret.
Now that she knew it, she wanted to do nothing but run.
“Get out,” she said in a sharp voice. “You’re not welcome here.”
Fillan raised his eyebrows and stepped inside her room, closing the door behind him.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I said get out.”
“Why the sudden change in attitude toward me?” he asked with a frown. “I thought you would be pleased to find that I am awake and free of that horrible curse.”
She raised an eyebrow. “That curse actually affected you?”
“It did,” he said with a solemn nod. “I hear you are to thank for freeing us all from it. Tell me, Bree, how did you do it?”
Bree’s heart thumped hard. She refused to tell the assassin what she’d done. There was no doubt in her mind that he would put two and two together, figuring out once and for all what Taveon was hiding from the realm. And she couldn’t let him do that.
“A little bird told me the trick,” she merely said, half-smiling at her play on words.
Fillan furrowed his eyebrows and stepped forward. “Bree. This is serious. How did you undo the curse? Did it have anything to do with what Taveon is?”
All the blood drained from Bree’s face. “No.”
“Bree,” he said again, tucking a finger underneath her chin and forcing her to look up into his eyes. “Listen to me. If I am right about Taveon’s true nature, then this entire realm is in danger.”
Frowning, Bree tried to jerk away, but his finger held her firmly in place. “What are you talking about?”
“The demonic gods,” Fillan said in a low growl. “They are trying to find a way to break open the gates so they can come and take back their son.”
Bree’s story continues in A Throne of Illusions, book 3 of the Dark Fae Academy series, coming Fall 2018. Sign up to Jenna’s newsletter to be notified on release day by clicking here.
About the Author
Jenna Wolfhart is a Buffy-wannabe who lives vicariously through the kick-ass heroines in urban fantasy. After completing a PhD in Librarianship, she became a full-time author and now spends her days typing the fantastical stories in her head. When she's not writing, she loves to stargaze, lift heavy weights in the gym, binge Netflix, and drink copious amounts of coffee.
Born and raised in America, Jenna now lives in England with her husband, her dog, and her mischief of rats.
www.jennawolfhart.com
[email protected]
A Heart of Midnight (Dark Fae Academy Book 2) Page 18