Warrior's Rise

by Brieanna Robertson

  Aki ran a mean kitchen and all of the men were practically in love with her because of her culinary skills. Doug spent most of his time slaving over books on the art of war, and Colt was really more like everyone’s biggest cheerleader and number one fan. He kept everyone laughing and their spirits boosted.

  Willow had settled everything back at the camp, telling Counselors Linda and John that she and Logan were taking the older kids for a special activity. She’d had little protests, aside from the fact that they had to pick up her slack.

  Darien had become a fast favorite among most everyone in her village. She wasn’t surprised. Alveda d’Kai men had often been encouraged to mate with Avari women. Darien was the perfect product of such a union. His natural consideration and kindness only made him that much more likable.

  Logan had turned into a pied piper of sorts when it came to the Avari children. All ages, boys and girls, seemed to adore him. It baffled him and made Willow laugh to see them following him everywhere he went, wanting him to tell them stories, teach them what he was doing, or make them into warriors.

  Neither she nor Logan had brought up their kiss. It was something that wasn’t talked about, but remained in the air between them whenever they were near one another. They’d adopted an easy-going friendship heavily laden with sexual tension, but to Willow’s amazement, he never made a move. He insinuated, he gave her blatant signals, but never crossed the line. It was almost as if he was waiting for her to do it, for her to make the move, for her to have to admit straight out that she wanted him. It was something her pride wouldn’t allow her to do. He was used to women giving into him and, despite the way her heart fluttered at his nearness, or how much her treasonous face sparkled, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  Logan himself had undergone nothing short of a metamorphosis. After coming to some sort of peace within himself, he’d embraced the Avari culture and the world beyond the portal. He’d thrown himself full force into training the Avari men how to fight and was looked up to and respected by every single member of her tribe. He was a looked upon as a hero to many, the one who had come to liberate them. Willow could hardly believe he was the same person who had walked into her office almost a month ago.

  She remembered that day so clearly. He’d been so stuck on himself, so arrogant and cocky. She’d wanted to smack him one. He’d thought he was God’s gift to women, and apparently, the entire universe. Now, though he still made his smug comments and carried his boastful attitude, he was calm, poised and kind. The man who had so famously insulted everything not himself when he’d first come into the camp was now respectful and patient. He didn’t always understand everything that was going on around him, for her culture was different than his, but he didn’t mock it and didn’t bash it. He observed, learned, and continued. He was tolerant of the children that followed him and gentle with them. He played. He teased. He laughed. And Willow could have been imagining it, but she could have sworn that an inner light shone from his eyes that had not been there before.

  “Willow.”

  She turned as Tiyenen’s voice brought her out of her thoughts.

  “Elder Ember wants to talk to you.”

  She frowned. “About what?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”

  Her frown deepened, but she headed over to the old man’s tent anyway. She stepped inside and bowed in respect to the one who was looked upon as the wise one of the village. He smiled up at her and motioned for her to sit down across from him. Willow obeyed, blinking to let her eyes adjust to the dark, dusty room.

  “How is the training coming?” he asked her.

  She raised an eyebrow. He’d wanted to speak to her just to ask her that question? She nodded. “Decent. Our men are taking to some of the skills.”

  He smiled, the action making the deep wrinkles in his face seem even more profound. “The people are very happy to have Alveda d’Kai amongst them once again.”

  She nodded. “Yes, we are very lucky to have found them.”

  He sighed. “The people have been coming to me, talking.” He met her eyes. “They want to do the First Warrior ceremony.”

  Her attention snapped to the old man and she stared at him for a few heartbeats. She swallowed, her throat feeling suddenly dry. “For who? Logan or Darien?”

  “For both of them.”

  She swallowed again and averted her eyes. “What do you think?”

  “I think it is a good idea. It is a tradition that has been in our culture for as long as the Alveda d’Kai fought alongside us. It would give the people hope, let them know that this good fortune is real. It will boost morale for the battle to come.”

  She sighed, hearing and understanding his words, but hating the way her stomach turned in protest at the idea.

  “There are many suitable women among our tribe,” he added.

  She resisted the urge to scowl at that little addendum. She stood abruptly. “I will let them know. Thank you, Elder.” She gave another hasty bow and all but fled the tent, finding it much too constricting at the moment.

  Once outside, she took a deep breath and tried to force her heart to beat normally. What was the matter with her anyway? Elder Ember was right. Her people needed all the help they could get. And the First Warrior ceremony was an honor.

  Rounding a corner and coming into a clearing, she spotted Logan trying his hand at a bow and arrow. She stopped in her tracks and stared at him for a second, her heart leaping like it wanted to fly right out of her chest and run over to him. She scowled and placed her hand firmly over her heart, as if doing so would show it who was boss.

  He looked amazing as he readied the bow and pulled the string back. Darien had immediately adopted wearing the medieval-style dress of her people, but Logan still dressed in the way of humans. He wore a pair of army green cargo pants low on his hips and a tight black shirt that showed off every beautiful and sculpted muscle he owned. Power radiated off of his form. He squinted as he tried to get the target in his sight, then let the arrow fly… And fly it did. Right over the target and into the middle of the forest, probably never to be seen again.

  She stifled a giggle as he cursed and threw the bow down in frustration. He ran his hands through his hair several times as if trying to collect his composure, then went over to where his rifle was leaning against a tree. He yanked it up into his hands, cocked it, raised it up to his shoulder and fired off two shots which lodged themselves firmly into the center of the target. He lowered his gun with a satisfied smile and gave a curt nod.

  Willow grinned and stepped forward. “You sure showed that target who was boss,” she teased.

  He looked over at her and smiled. “Yeah, well, it needed to be shown its place. It was mocking me.” He set his gun down. “Ten arrows and none of them even grazed the thing.”

  She giggled and looked up at him. “It’s all right. We said you were a warrior. We didn’t specify what kind.” He grinned and the warmth in his eyes made her stomach feel funny again. She looked down.

  “Hey.” He reached down and took her hand. “Come here for a second.”

  She went with him as he led her to a cliff at the edge of the forest. The trees broke away to reveal an expansive green meadow that seemed to go on forever, and in the distance, tall, rugged, snow-capped mountains and more forest.

  “I stumbled upon this view earlier when I went searching for one of my rogue arrows. It is the most breathtaking thing I have ever seen.”

  She smiled and glanced up at his profile. So strong, so masculine… Her eyes lingered on his lips and tingles worked through her body at the memory of the way they’d kissed. Full, soft, gorgeous… She shook her head and frowned. It would do absolutely no good to dwell on such things… Especially now.

  “What’s out there?” he asked suddenly.

  She looked up at him and gave an inquisitive frown. “What do you mean?”

  “Out there.” He indicated the vast expanse of wilderness. “What kind of things exist
in this realm?”

  She smiled and turned her gaze to the beautiful, untamed land. “Different fairy tribes, elves…”

  “You mean like the little dudes with the red hats and pointed shoes?”

  She frowned.

  “Like you sit on your front lawn?”

  She burst out laughing. “No, those are gnomes!”

  He chuckled. “Oh. My bad.”

  She shook her head and giggled. “Think more along the lines of Lord of the Rings. J.R.R Tolkien was pretty on with the elves.” She chewed on her bottom lip as she thought. “Um…there’s the Kaleydia.”

  He looked down at her with a curious expression. “What are those?”

  She grinned. “Wolves.”

  He arched his eyebrows. “Like werewolves?”

  She shook her head with a smile. “No. They’re shape-shifters. There are two different kinds, actually. The Kaleydia, the wolf shifters, and the Fehrisk, who can shift into all forms of cat.”

  He blinked down at her in wonderment, then shook his head and turned his awestruck gaze back out to the meadow. “I can’t believe that so many amazing things really exist… I want to see it. I want to see everything. Everything that’s out there.”

  She studied him for a moment and smiled. “This coming from a man who almost had a panic attack just coming through the portal.”

  He gave her a playful glare, then looked back out. “I was mortified when you brought me here and told me what I was. My whole existence had been decimated, but once I came to accept it…” He shook his head. “Each minute I spend here, more of the fear wears off and feelings of freedom replace it. In the human world, I always felt stifled and restrained, out of place. It was why I spent so much of my life indulging in excess. Because it masked those feelings. Here…all I feel is…freedom. I want to see where that takes me.”

  The warm smile he gave her when he looked down made her heart turn over and she looked away. A knot formed in her throat and she gave a discreet cough in hopes of dislodging it. It didn’t work. She frowned. “The people want you and Darien to take part in a ceremony,” she blurted. She fiddled with her fingers, unable to meet his eyes.

  “What kind of ceremony?”

  She heaved a sigh and forced her head up. She was a queen. She wasn’t supposed to look down like a lost child. “It’s called the First Warrior ceremony. Back in the days when the Alveda d’Kai lived and flourished, the Avari would choose the men they thought were the greatest warriors and basically throw them a party, granting them power over the entire tribe. The elder in my village will go through a short ceremony pronouncing you and Darien ‘First Warriors,’ or the best. It’s a high honor among our people. Only the best warriors were given the title and the…” She cleared her throat. “The prize.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “The prize?”

  She huffed. “After the ceremony the elder will choose a woman for you and a woman for Darien…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. He was a man. He was smart enough to fill in the blanks. She slid her gaze up to meet his.

  His eyes widened. “Whoa, stop the truck! I’m not gonna wake up betrothed or married, am I?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No, of course not. You’re just given as woman as a…companion.” She cleared her throat. “It’s the way of the tribe encouraging the Alveda d’Kai to mate with an Avari.”

  “Persuasion… Right.” He scratched at the back of his head.

  For some reason, Willow suddenly felt really hostile. She whirled and faced him. “I’m sure it won’t take much for you to be persuaded, will it, Logan? It is, after all, what you’re good at.” She spun on her heel and stormed off, hating that she’d lost her cool, but hating even more the way she felt tears burn behind her eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Once it had been announced that Logan and Darien were to be given the First Warrior ceremony, the atmosphere of the village was lively and charged with excitement. Everyone was thrilled and busy making the needed preparations. Willow was about as excited as if she’d just found out the Apocalypse was coming. By the looks of things, Lucy felt about the same. After Darien had told her about the ceremony, she had left the courtyard and spent most of her time in the stables, brushing every horse the Avari had multiple times. Darien, himself, looked very bewildered and unsure, but Willow was sure he’d figure it out. He was a man, after all… And Logan’s brother. She was sure he’d give Darien some tips. No doubt he was thrilled at the idea of finally getting some action.

  Gloomy and irritable, Willow kept mostly to herself for the rest of the day, avoiding everyone, especially her brother, who saw straight through the situation and kept pestering her that, if she had an issue, she should either call off the ceremony, or tell Logan because he was never going to know how she felt if she didn’t open her mouth. She wouldn’t. Her people were more important than her own emotions and, if the ceremony was going to boost morale, she would deal with it. At this point, they needed all the help they could get. Besides, what she felt was an infatuation. She had grown close to Logan in the midst of a crisis. He had stepped up to the plate, had risen to the occasion. Naturally, that would make her feel affection for him. It couldn’t be more than that. Not for Logan. He was a rogue, a rapscallion. Women were notches on his belt and nothing more.

  Keep telling yourself that. If you think it enough, maybe you’ll actually start to believe it.

  She scowled, hating that inner voice in her head. She flung down the garment she’d been thinking about wearing and sat down on her bed, putting her head in her hands. This was ridiculous. This ceremony was important to her people. She needed to get a grip. She squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered Logan’s kiss against her will. Those beautiful, soft lips would be kissing some other woman tonight. His strong hands would be caressing someone else. When had she come to care for him so much? She’d gone from loathing him to aching for him. When had that happened? It was annoying. It was inconvenient. It was torture.

  Her heart ached at the thought of him showing another woman any affection and she hated herself for it. However much Logan had changed, there was still a lot of him that remained very much the same, and she hated that she had managed to fall under his spell. She’d promised herself she would hate him. The second he’d waltzed into her office acting like he was the be all and the end all, she’d vowed she wouldn’t pay attention to how attractive he was, nor would she find any redeeming qualities in him. She’d promised herself she would never be like all of the other shallow women who fell at his feet and drooled over his charm. He’d been a jerk, insensitive, selfish, arrogant… Had been.

  She let out a frustrated growling sound. Had been. She couldn’t convince herself that he was awful when he wasn’t anymore. He wasn’t any of those things now. Now he was confident, capable, strong, considerate…

  Right, so considerate that he was getting ready for a ceremony that was giving him sex on a platter while she was tearing out her hair. If he cared at all, he would have gone after her. He would have talked to her. That was all there was to it. She was wasting her emotion and turmoil on someone who was probably elated at this turn of events.

  Firmly clamping a hold on any protests her mind might make, she stuck to this line of reasoning and stood. She had to find something to wear. She was going to be late if she kept this up.

  * * * *

  Logan didn’t even hear what the elder was saying to him. He’d been droning on and on for the past half hour or so about warriors and blah blah blah. Any other time, he would have been listening. He would have been hanging onto every word because it would have made him feel powerful. Now, he just felt awkward. He glanced over at Darien, who looked just as stiff as he felt.

  They’d both been garbed in some ridiculous blue robe thing that made him feel like he should be going to a toga party, then paraded like peacocks in front of the entire Avari tribe. Now the elder was yammering on about how they were the ones who would guide their people to victory. It should hav
e made him feel proud and invincible. He loved to be the center of attention. Praise and recognition were usually something he thrived on, and being handed a woman as a gift shouldn’t have been a bad deal. But all he could do was look over at Willow. She looked amazing. She’d dressed in a gown in the style of her world, long and red velvet with belled sleeves. A gold belt adorned her narrow waist and she wore a crown of platinum maple leaves. She was radiant… And looked so despondent. Almost as despondent as Lucy, who was as close to tears as a person could get.

  Obviously, the ceremony bothered Willow. It was clear on her face, but he hated that her pride would not allow her to tell him how she plainly felt. All she’d had to do was come to him, tell him, talk to him. He wouldn’t have gone through with it. He really wouldn’t have. But she hadn’t. And he couldn’t deny it—it stung. Maybe he really was expendable to her, even after all they’d been through. Maybe he’d mistaken her affection for him. He didn’t know. She never said anything. And he hadn’t brought anything up because he didn’t want her to feel like he was pushing her. He’d figured she’d just needed time to sort out what she felt, but maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe he’d misread all of the signals. Maybe she was attracted to him, but nothing more. It hurt.

  It was strange that it hurt. Most of the time he wouldn’t have cared, but that was because he’d never been emotionally invested in anyone before. He’d taken time to get to know Willow. He’d been around her enough to know that he adored her laugh. Her face lit up when she laughed. And he loved the way she tackled problems head on. He loved her no-nonsense attitude and the fire she displayed in everything she did. He loved the quiet vulnerability she sometimes showed when they were alone together, her uncertainty and her fears that she confided to him. He loved that she leaned on him, even if she didn’t realize it. Most of all, he loved how, between her forcing him to get a clue, and her encouragement to get to know the person he really was inside, she made him feel like a real man for the first time ever. Not a sham of one. Not someone who went overboard trying to prove that he was. A real, solid, honest-to-goodness man. Someone who could fight for what he wanted. Someone who could protect what he cared about. Someone who could love. It was something new to him, love, but he was coming to realize that he cared a great deal for a lot of things he normally wouldn’t have thought twice about. Darien, the kids, the Avari people…Willow.