Lionheart

by Thea Harrison

  “Aye, sire,” the puck replied. “I swear on my life, I will be ready.” As exhausted as he looked, there was a feverish tension vibrating through his slender frame. It hurt to look at him.

  But it hurt even more to look at Oberon. He was on fire, burning with purpose.

  This was beyond disastrous. Every one of the Daoine Sidhe, she saw, were looking to him for strength, purpose, and guidance. They were soaking in his presence like dying plants receiving a much-needed rain. Even the most exhausted of the soldiers were visibly reviving in the face of Oberon’s burnished vitality.

  None of them knew what she knew. The fool was supposed to avoid outright war for three and a half more weeks—and he wasn’t going to do it. And war would lead to battle… and she knew without having to be told that he was not the kind of ruler to lead from behind.

  After everything she had done to save his life, he was going to run off and get himself killed.

  She clenched and unclenched her fists while her mind raced.

  Focus, Shaw. This isn’t your country. It isn’t your fight. You’re supposed to be going home, remember? And he’s been an adult for far longer than you’ve been alive—he knows how to take instruction or not, as he chooses. You were clear in every one of your warnings, and he was very clear when he urged you to trust him.

  What are you waiting for? How many times do I have to tell you to get out?

  She glanced over her shoulder. Brielle stood at the forefront of the group at the door, but when she saw Kathryn looking at her, the worried expression smoothed from her face and Brielle gave her a warm, reassuring smile.

  Down in the courtyard, several people had gathered together—Oberon, Annwyn, Gawain, Rowan, Owen, and three other harsh-faced soldiers Kathryn didn’t know—while the rest of the party burst into activity, some leading horses away while others raced forward to hug members of the first arrivals.

  Oberon, Kathryn said, a sense of urgency tightening her telepathic voice. We need to talk.

  He stilled, as he had when he absorbed the news of Isabeau’s invasion. His gaze met hers over Annwyn’s head. They stared at each other, the only two who didn’t move, while purpose drove everyone else around them.

  Something in his expression and posture looked terribly final. I’m sorry, Kathryn, he replied gently. There’s nothing I would love more than to talk with you, but now is not the time. I understand you intend to leave. When you’re ready, let Owen know and he will see that you get an escort to the nearest safe crossover passageway.

  I’m still your physician! she snapped.

  He shook his head. That agreement ended the moment Annwyn and her troops arrived. Be sure to leave your bill in my office before you go.

  The pieces of her that had broken hadn’t fused back together in the night. Conflict, hurt, and anger compressed them into grinding pain.

  That was it? After everything they had shared, leave your bill in my office was all he had to say? Oh, she wasn’t going to get over that in a hurry. She was going to make him pay for it in a thousand different ways.

  He strode past her, surrounded by the core group of senior officers. In that moment he looked every inch the Daoine Sidhe King. Annwyn had moved to the edge of the group and was talking to Owen.

  When Kathryn grabbed Annwyn’s arm, the other woman started and looked around. Her tight expression warmed into a brief smile. “Dr. Shaw, it is so good to see you safe and well. We were worried when Robin absconded with you. You have the entire demesne’s gratitude for the service you have rendered to us. I wish I had time to thank you properly for everything you’ve done—”

  Kathryn interrupted her telepathically, Forgive me, Annwyn, I understand how urgent matters are right now, but you have to make the time. Oberon is not as robust as he seems. As the general paused, her eyes narrowing, Kathryn added angrily, He doesn’t want to listen to what I have to say—he’s trying to brush me off, but somebody needs to hear it…

  Kathryn, he just discovered we’ve been invaded and we’re at war, Annwyn replied, although her frown deepened, and she didn’t move.

  Her fingers tightened on Annwyn’s arm. I know things are bad!

  Do you? You’ve been here for all of a week—I don’t think you can possibly realize just how bad they are.

  From the palace doors, Oberon said, “Annwyn, I need you right now along with the others.”

  Annwyn’s attention snapped to him. “Yes sir, of course.”

  Kathryn stood clenched with rage, grief, and deepening fear. Just when she was convinced she had lost Annwyn’s attention for good, Annwyn grabbed her wrist and pulled her along as she strode forward.

  Stay with me, Annwyn ordered. And keep your mouth shut.

  If that’s what it took to be included and heard by someone in power, she would comply, at least for now. She fell in step with Annwyn’s rapid pace as they followed the King’s group to yet another area she hadn’t explored, a room down the hall from Oberon’s office that was large enough to hold up to sixteen people comfortably around a large round table.

  Kathryn took in everything at a glance. A large fireplace dominated one end, and paintings of maps hung on the paneled walls. Along another wall, tall cases with cubbyholes stood filled with scrolled parchments. Owen hadn’t yet had time to turn his attention to this room. It felt chill and damp, and thick dust covered everything.

  Owen stepped back into the hall, past Annwyn and Kathryn as they entered, and he issued a rapid set of orders to various people who had trailed behind. Three leaped into the room. One hurried to check the fireplace, then ran out to return quickly with firewood and light a fire, while the other two hastily wiped everything down with cloths before slipping away again.

  Neither Oberon nor the seven council members paid any attention to the servants’ ministrations. They gathered around the table while Oberon yanked out a large scroll from one of the cubbyholes to slam it down and spread it out over the table’s surface.

  From a sideboard, Rowan grabbed iron weights shaped like lions and set them at each of the corners. The scent of adrenaline was strong in the room, and no one sat.

  “Report,” Oberon said.

  While she didn’t know everyone in the room, and she didn’t know the ones she was acquainted with very well, the scene felt completely familiar. She was no sentinel, but she had witnessed and participated in many council meetings like this before. She took a stand beside Annwyn.

  Everyone else hesitated. A few glanced at Kathryn and looked uncomfortable. Others, like Gawain and Rowan, appeared at a loss. Well, they were just going to have to get over that. Crossing her arms, she planted her feet in a sturdy I’m-not-going-anywhere posture.

  Annwyn said to the group, “Remember, fifteen years have gone by here, and he doesn’t know anything.” She looked at Oberon. “Here are the broad strokes. Since you went into stasis, the war has not gone in our favor. By now you must have an inkling of the damage and challenges we’ve faced here, but it was far worse than floods and bad weather. Remember what happened in that battle by Westmarch, off Old Friar’s Lane?”

  Oberon rubbed his mouth. “All too well.”

  “That was just a precursor for what came next. After you went into stasis, Morgan either broke or hid the rest of our crossover passageways under a web of concealment spells so strong we couldn’t break through them. We were completely cut off from Earth. Our people in England were hunted and killed until only a few survived. Your puck disappeared—for a long time we thought he had run off, but we found out later that he had been captured by the Light Fae Queen.”

  “I heard something of what happened to him,” Oberon replied. His dark head was bent over the large map on the table. He hadn’t yet noticed Kathryn was present. “So, we have lost control over most of our passageways?”

  Gawain spoke up. “No, sire. We had lost all access to crossover passageways, but the recent summer in England brought about a huge change in our fortune. First, we found a way to use the broken passagewa
y near Westmarch. Then Morgan reopened all the other crossover passageways, and we regained control of them.”

  Oberon looked up quickly, eyes narrowed. “Why would he do that—give us back control of our own passageways?”

  “It turned out the sorcerer had been trapped in a geas for the whole of this war,” Gawain told him. “He had never voluntarily worked in the Queen’s service. Every act he had committed in her name had been as her slave. A few months ago—at least in England it was a few months ago—we discovered he broke free from the spell. Isabeau was injured severely in some kind of battle. Morgan killed Modred, destroyed one of Isabeau’s cities, and either scattered or destroyed most of her Hounds and took the rest with him.”

  Annwyn took up the rest of the story. “We thought her back was broken. She was hurt and in hiding and had lost much of her fighting force. Her people were scattered and in disarray. We thought it was only a matter of time before we found and killed her.” Her expression twisted with bitter self-recrimination. “And I made some of the worst decisions I could have possibly made. I divided our own forces even further—I stationed some to guard each of the four crossover passageways. There are more troops at Raven’s Craig as well as quite a few of the evacuees, and I sent out several parties to hunt for Isabeau….”

  During the briefing, Kathryn’s gaze had never left Oberon. She saw the exact moment he glanced at Annwyn and realized Kathryn was in the group. Something raw whipped across his features like an open wound.

  It quickly transformed to anger. He leaned forward and planted both hands on the table as he growled, “What are you still doing here? I already fired you.”

  “Did you? I have news for you, King.” She leaned forward as well, meeting his aggression with a hard stare of her own. “I don’t care if you think you’ve fired me or not, because I don’t work for you—Annwyn is the one who hired me, and she wants me here.”

  “Gods damn it, Kathryn!” he shouted, slamming one fist down so hard the ancient, heavy table cracked. “This is none of your business!”

  “It is too my business!” she shouted back. Then she broke another one of the cardinal tenets of her profession without the slightest twinge of regret. “And it’s going to be the business of every person in this room when they find out you’re not as healed as you look!”

  If he had ever been angry at her before—and he had—it was nothing compared to his incandescent fury at that. “My personal medical information is not yours to tell!” he snarled. He strode around the table. “How dare you!”

  She decided not to stand meekly and watch him come, so she leaped onto the table, kicked aside the map and weights, and positioned herself in the middle of it. He could reach her if he lunged for her ankle, but she hoped to see him coming in time so that she could leap back to the table’s edge from every angle.

  “You don’t have a clue what I might dare!” He lunged, one arm snaking out, and she hopped back just in time with an angry laugh. “Oh, do you think this is the first time I’ve ever been in a shouting match? You think Dragos and I have never gone head-to-head before?”

  His eyes glowed golden and hot. “I think it’s a testament to that dragon’s patience that he’s never strangled you!”

  “He’s threatened to.” She leaped back again as he made another lunge for her.

  Everyone else had jumped back from the table and stared at the confrontation with varying degrees of alarm and consternation.

  “What’s going on?” Rowan asked quietly.

  The unknown soldier beside him whispered, “Ssh.”

  “What is it going to take to get you out of my life?” Oberon said savagely.

  “Now you want me gone!” She danced out of his reach again. “You weren’t talking that way last night.”

  “You said you were leaving!” His roar shook the room and cracked the windows. “How long do you want to stand there and watch me bleed?”

  She stopped dancing out of his reach and whispered, “Oberon, I’m bleeding too.”

  One of his hard hands clamped around her ankle. His fierce lion’s gaze never left her face, as he said, “Everybody, out. We need a few minutes.”

  Rarely had she seen a room empty so fast. Only Rowan dragged his feet so that he was the last one to exit. When the door shut behind him, Oberon pulled her forward. She didn’t fight him. Instead, she let the strength in her legs go and sat down hard on the table’s edge.

  Once she was down, he didn’t attempt to touch her again. Instead, he stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at her silently. A muscle in his jaw jumped spasmodically. Otherwise there was no expression on his hard, set face.

  “What you just did was totally inappropriate,” he bit out.

  “I know.” She nodded. Her cheek tickled. When she raised her hand to it, she realized her face was wet. She wiped it with the back of her hand. “I’m not sorry. More of your people have come, and they all need you…. Their need is a palpable, physical thing. And events have gotten shockingly shitty—and I see you too, you know. You’re ramping up. You’re pushing me away, and you intend to be everything they think they need from you. And you have every right to hate Isabeau so much—but you can’t engage in combat for three and a half more weeks, or it will very likely kill you.”

  His lips turned white. “That’s none of your business.”

  “It is!” she shouted. “Because nobody needs you more than I do!”

  He took in a tight, harsh breath and stepped close enough to grip the table’s edge and press his forehead to hers. “You can’t need me like that and go home, Kathryn.”

  “I know.” Her throat closed.

  It felt like her skin turned inside out, and all her broken pieces were laid bare. A part of her took a step back and watched her shake and cry noiselessly. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt such devastation—not even when she had learned her father had been killed. The grief had been terrible, but it hadn’t threatened to destroy her like this did.

  His broad shoulders sagged. “You can’t tear yourself up like this, love,” he whispered. “I wish you didn’t have to make such a hard choice, but you do. You have to either stay or go, because I’m not leaving—not even for you, not even for my life, my heart. They gave everything for years and years because of their faith in me, and now they have nothing left. If I could walk away from that, I wouldn’t be me.”

  “I know.” Her face twisted. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want you to leave,” he said between his teeth. “I want to become a fond memory in your mind of an adventure you’d always wanted to take and you’re glad that you had. I want you to go back to New York, recover from this, and thrive for many long years to come.” She could hear the lie in every word, but then what he said next rang with truth. “I don’t want you to be in danger. I don’t want you to be embroiled in this hellish war, or to deal with the kind of struggle we’re facing to survive and rebuild. I want you safe so much more than I want you with me, because if you are with me and die, I will never recover from it. It will kill me too.”

  Pitching forward, she leaned against his chest, pressing her cheek to the bare skin at the opening of his shirt. “Sounds like you have a hard choice too.”

  Finally, his arms came around her, and the relief was so deep she almost cried again. “Not like yours. Before the surgery I was worried about the man I would become, but I’m not anymore. Morgan’s spell numbed me—it didn’t change who I was fundamentally. I know who I am and what I have to do. Would I have preferred meeting you during peacetime, so we could have all the time in the world to explore each other and our own feelings? Of course, but you know, kings rarely get the luxury of having all the time in the world.”

  “Thank you,” she told him. “You told me just what I needed to hear.”

  He stroked her hair. “What was that?”

  “You are an adventure I’ve always wanted to take—and I’m so glad I have. But adventures have consequences…. You know,
I’m not sure they would be adventures if they didn’t. I’m not leaving you,” she told him. Inside, she felt the disparate pieces come together again. They weren’t aligned the way they had been before, and she no longer felt broken. “Nobody is more surprised about that than me. If the consequence of my adventure means I have to walk away from my old life and build a new one, well then. That will be another adventure, won’t it?”

  He gripped her by the back of the neck. As she spoke, every line of his big body had gone rigid. “You’re staying. You’re mine. You’re going to be my mate. You can’t take that back, Kathryn. I gave you a fair chance to walk away—hell, I practically shoved you away….”

  “No hurt feelings here over that,” she muttered. “Yes, that was sarcasm.”

  “What the hell else was I supposed to do?” he snapped.

  “I–I don’t know, Oberon.” She walked her fingers across his chest. “You were trying to be generous and selfless… I think… and I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you…”

  “Easy!” he exploded. “Fuck me, I should think not!”

  She loved it when he swore. “…but be sure to leave your bill in my office before you go? Really? Why didn’t you just kick me in the teeth and be done with it?”

  He jerked her head back and stared down at her, jaw locked. His lion’s gaze was glowing again. “Is that where you want to go? Let’s talk about all the kicks in the teeth you’ve given me, shall we?”

  Lifting both shoulders, she angled her chin and gave him a sidelong smile. “Why don’t we get back to talking about how I’m going to stay instead?”

  His gaze heated, and he lowered his head. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said against her mouth. “Why don’t we stop talking for a few minutes?”

  Suddenly her eyelids were too heavy to hold up. “Sounds like an excellent idea to me.”

  Then he kissed her so hard and deeply she lost all ability to think, much less speak of anything.