The Iron Flower

by Laurie Forest

  “I thought soldiers were bullies who wanted easy targets,” I challenge him acidly.

  Lukas gives a short laugh. “That’s what cowards who dress up as soldiers want. Real warriors want a real foe.”

  “Real warriors like you?”

  “Yes,” he says without hesitation.

  “So, what is it you want in your foe, exactly?”

  “Well, speaking metaphorically, what I want is a worthy grindstone.”

  “To smash to pieces?”

  His eyes take on a wicked gleam. “To sharpen my blade against.” I gasp as he abruptly pulls me close and grins at my surprise. “I hear your brother was here with the Lupine girl.”

  Ire rises in me. “I really don’t feel like talking about this with you, of all people.”

  Lukas laughs. “Why?”

  “Because you probably hate their kind.”

  “I don’t hate the Lupines.”

  “Yet you would kill them if ordered to.”

  “Yes, I would,” he agrees. “Just as Gunther Ulrich’s guard would kill everyone in this room if he ordered them to.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “It’s exactly the same.” Lukas’s gaze turns serious. “Elloren, your brother needs to remember which side he’s on. He’s playing a dangerous game. Marcus Vogel is intent on recapturing a contested portion of the Lupines’ territory. Unfriendly diplomatic relations are about to take a hostile turn.”

  Rebellion flares in me. “If we provoke a war with the Lupines, Rafe won’t fight them.”

  Lukas’s expression goes granite hard. He abruptly slows us to a stop and guides me just off the dance floor, into a slightly sheltered grove of Ironwood trees.

  “Your brother’s going to be drafted,” Lukas says, his voice low and unforgiving. “He may be without magic, but he’s the best tracker to come along in ages. He’ll be especially useful in fighting the Lupines.”

  I wrench my arm free from Lukas’s grip. “He won’t fight them.”

  “Then he’ll be shot.”

  A picture of Rafe effortlessly dodging countless arrows comes to mind. “Good luck trying to catch him,” I scoff.

  “Elloren, he’s no match for the Mage Guard.”

  I glare at him. “Well, maybe he’ll join the Lupines.”

  Lukas lets out a short, dismissive laugh. “He’s the grandson of Carnissa Gardner, the only Mage ever to go up against the Lupines with some small measure of success. Don’t think for a minute that the Lupines don’t have a very long memory regarding their losses during the Realm War. Your brother could never be accepted by them, and Diana Ulrich is the alpha’s daughter. Do you honestly think that her people will let her go off with a Gardnerian? They’ll kill him before they allow it.”

  “I’m done talking about this,” I say angrily. “It’s not a game to me. I happen to love my brother.”

  “Then do everything you can to convince him to break things off with Diana Ulrich. He needs to follow his head, not his—”

  “I get the gist of what you’re saying,” I snap.

  Lukas grows quiet. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes with a dip of his head. “That was in poor taste. It’s just... I feel compelled to be honest with you.” He looks away, momentarily frustrated, like he’s admitting to some weakness. “I think it’s because our affinity lines are such a close match. I’ve never been with a woman I feel this way about.”

  “Is that why you agreed to fast to me?” I wonder, frowning.

  “Yes,” he says, a slight smile forming on his lips. His eyes do a slow slide over me, “And the fact that I greatly enjoy kissing you.”

  Heat rises in my cheeks. “So, you still want to...”

  “Wandfast to you? Absolutely.” His grin warms to an alluring smile as he takes my hand in his. “There are a great number of things I’d like to do with you, Elloren, wandfasting being only one of them.” Lukas’s touch turns into a caress, his thumb tracing a line along the back of my hand.

  Heat shudders through my fire lines, and I struggle to resist his pull, eyeing him with suspicion. “But...are you in love with me, Lukas?” I ask, remembering the ardent way he looked at me outside when he first saw my dress.

  “Would you rather I lied to you or told you the truth?”

  “Well, you can’t lie to me, and I would prefer the truth.”

  “I don’t believe in all that romantic nonsense,” Lukas says, his expression hardening. “I think it’s ridiculous. So, no. I’m not in love with you, Elloren.”

  “You’re overwhelming me with sentiment,” I snipe, offended by his blunt dismissal.

  Lukas draws me close as the music around us slows. His voice is sultry, his breath warm on my ear. “I do, however, feel like we’re becoming friends. And that is something that is of much greater value to me than some false emotion that I don’t believe exists.”

  Friends. It’s hard to figure out how I feel about this as my attention is slowly caught up in the feel of his hand caressing my back. His affinity lines reach for mine, the warmth of his fire sliding through me. I sigh and surrender to the heat, forgetting every reason why I should stay away from him as his lips find mine.

  I know people can spot us through the greenery. I’m vaguely aware of their shocked murmuring, but I don’t care. He’s like the dark Asteroth wood that sends sparks through my skin. The branches of our affinity lines twine tighter, flames teasing through them as Lukas’s kiss deepens in hunger.

  When Lukas pulls back, his eyes are strangely intense, and I feel a delicious undercurrent of wild danger. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?” he asks, his tone nocturnal.

  A spike of both fear and desire ripples through me. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  He shoots me a knowing look, then steps back, deliberately formal, his arm outstretched in an unspoken invitation to dance once more. I let him guide me back onto the dance floor and into his arms, one slow waltz leading into another. I look out over Lukas’s shoulder, over the glittering couples and past them to...

  Yvan.

  He’s leaning against an Ironwood tree, far from the other kitchen workers, his eyes fixed on me. Heat suddenly flashes through me from clear across the room, like a streak of lightning through my lines, and I struggle not to gasp, stunned by the unexpected sensation.

  I look away, thrown by this new awareness of Yvan’s astonishing fire, and struggle to collect myself as an echo of his heat shudders through my lines. My breathing erratic, I venture a glance back at him. He’s still watching me, with the same intense expression he usually wears, but deepened and simmering with something new.

  Passionate longing.

  Cast into confusion, I hold his fiery gaze as I move in perfect time with Lukas, filled with a sudden, overwhelming desire to be dancing with Yvan instead. To feel his lips against mine. To have his arms around me. And to be close to his fire. And for a brief moment, I throw all caution aside and look back at him with equally transparent longing.

  “You feel so warm,” Lukas whispers in my ear as he sweeps me around, breaking my eye contact with Yvan.

  “It’s hot in here,” I say, my flush deepening.

  Lukas’s laugh is low and suggestive. “Yes, it is.”

  He tightens his hold on me, his lips brushing my neck, and my sense of Yvan’s heat abruptly flares, then fades away. When I catch sight of Yvan once more, his attention has turned to Iris. She’s talking to him and smiling flirtatiously as she sets down a platter of pastries stacked in the shape of a Yule tree, then reaches up to playfully tug at his shirt.

  I’m seized by a flash of jealousy so strong, I lose track of the rhythm and almost stumble.

  Yvan’s gaze meets mine again, his expression hardening with conflict as his green eyes narrow in on Lukas. Then Iris takes Yvan’s hand in hers, and he turns away from
me as she pulls him with her into the kitchen.

  Of course, he’s leaving with her.

  I fight to regain my outward composure, but the sting of seeing them leave together reverberates.

  Let him go, I roughly urge myself. He’s made it clear he won’t give in to...whatever this is between us. You can’t have him. So, let him go.

  Suddenly defiant, I slide my arms around Lukas and draw him closer.

  Lukas responds immediately, his hands encircling my waist, pulling me in as his lips find mine.

  I don’t need Yvan, I console myself, swallowing back the hurt as I fall into Lukas’s heated kiss.

  But the palpable feel of Yvan’s longing resonates and lingers inside me.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  WATER HORSE

  I push through the wilds, gripping the handle of a lantern and following the overlapping boot tracks in the snow. The hem of my Ironflower dress peeks out under my cloak and illuminates my steps in a circle of glowing blue light.

  The dance is long since over, the hour approaching midnight. I clutch at my Snow Oak pendant, my breath sounding loud against the weighty silence of the dark forest as I glance anxiously around and wait for the trees to stage another phantom attack.

  Nothing.

  Just a tremor of unease, and a sense that the trees are drawing back from me. But beneath their cowed submission, there’s an undercurrent of something else.

  They’re waiting. Waiting for something to come for me.

  Stop it, Elloren, I firmly tell myself. Don’t let the trees unsettle you. They can’t harm you. They’re just trees.

  I glimpse firelight shining through the branches up ahead, and relief floods through me. I let out a long, shaky breath. It’s Trystan’s night to stand guard as Ariel and my friend Andras tend to Naga’s injuries in the cave we’ve been hiding the dragon in. Andras’s position as the University’s equine physician affords him some limited skill in caring for a dragon, as do Ariel’s animal husbandry studies. I hope Jarod is there, too—worry for him has pricked at the back of my mind all evening.

  But when I step into the clearing, I find only Yvan there. He’s sitting on a log and staring at the impressive bonfire with searing focus, his long form stilled but seeming rigid with pent-up tension. An uncomfortable flush rises on my cheeks at the sight of him.

  He doesn’t look up as I hang my lantern on a branch, but I get the strong sense that his attention is wholly on me. I sit down on the side of the fire opposite him and hold up my hands to warm them, my emotions cast into turmoil. Small sparks fly out from the bonfire in every direction, like fireflies in the dead of winter, and I strive to ignore how achingly handsome he looks, washed golden in the firelight.

  “I thought it was Trystan’s night to stand guard over Naga,” I say, breaking the tense silence, keeping my tone as casual as I can.

  “It is Trystan’s turn to watch over her,” he says, his green eyes locked on the flames. “I felt like visiting her.”

  “But you’re out here.”

  “She’s sleeping,” he replies tersely as his eyes meet mine, blistering heat in his gaze.

  “Then why stay?” I ask, trying to hide how much it hurts when he shuts me out like this. “I’m sure you could find other things to do.” With Iris.

  “I like starting fires.” His tone is caustic as his eyes flicker hot on me. “I felt like burning something.”

  The uncomfortable warmth in my face stings hotter, my feelings a tumult as I remember his eyes on me while I danced with Lukas Grey. The sense of his fire.

  And that look of fierce longing.

  We sit there for an uncomfortably long while, privately fuming, barely acknowledging my younger brother, Trystan, when he emerges from the cave.

  “Hi, Ren,” Trystan says uneasily, glancing warily from me to Yvan and back toward me again, as if gauging the tension.

  I murmur a barely audible response and glower at the crackling fire. “So. Ren,” Trystan starts tentatively as he takes a seat by me. “You went to the dance...with Lukas Grey?”

  I shrug, avoiding Yvan’s intense green eyes.

  Trystan is quiet for a moment. “Are you...with him now?”

  The fire unexpectedly roars higher, sparks exploding in random patterns. Trystan eyes the flames with a raised brow, his eyes darting from Yvan to me in question.

  “I went to the dance with Lukas,” I sputter defensively. “That’s it.”

  Except for the kissing. A great deal of kissing.

  The fire flares again, almost catching my skirts alight, and I’ve a sense of Yvan’s heat flashing turbulently through my lines. I yank the silken fabric behind my legs and look to Yvan with startled accusation, only to find him staring into the center of the fire with predatory focus.

  And I wonder if, like me, his power is quickening inside him.

  Fire Fae power.

  The fire quiets to a normal crackle as Trystan silently pulls out my white wand and starts practicing spells, the five silver stripes edging his uniform glinting in the firelight. He conjures a tight ball of water that hovers in the air just above the wand’s tip, then tosses it toward the fire, watching as it bursts into a hissing cloud of steam.

  My affinity lines prickle to life and strain toward the white wand, my wand hand tingling as a sullen envy takes hold. I wish I could be like Trystan, able to access this burgeoning power and wield it through that wand.

  Dejected, I watch my brother try out a variety of water spells as thoughts of Yvan and wands and the evening spent with Lukas gust around in my mind, upending my emotions.

  A rustling in the forest catches my attention. Yvan rises, turning toward the sound. When Tierney pushes clumsily through the evergreen boughs and into our clearing, I breathe out a sigh of relief—until I see the tears glistening on her face.

  I rise, as well. “Tierney, what’s the matter...” My words fall away as a shadow flows in behind Tierney, first resembling an inky puddle, then like water bubbling up, up, up into the air.

  I step back in alarm as the thing rapidly takes on the size and shape of a horse—a horse made of roiling black water.

  “Holy Ancient One...” Trystan breathes as he bolts up, brandishing my wand.

  Firelight illuminates the fantastical creature with orange-and-red undulating lines. Its head swivels toward me, obsidian eyes focusing in tight.

  “It’s all right,” Tierney assures us, her voice coarse from crying. “This is my Kelpie, Es’tryl’lyan...”

  A palpable wave of fury lashes out at me from the Kelpie as its lips pull back to reveal icicle teeth. It abruptly lunges for me, and I cry out in fright, stumbling backward to the ground.

  Fast as lightning, Yvan throws himself in front of me and flings his arm toward the creature. A torrent of flame explodes from the bonfire and surges toward the water horse just as Trystan casts a line of Mage fire at the beast’s side.

  The Kelpie shrieks and rears back, steam hissing from its huge form.

  “Control your Kelpie!” Yvan orders as Andras bursts from Naga’s cave brandishing his rune-axe. Ariel hovers at the cave’s entrance, her black wings flapping agitatedly, pale green eyes wide.

  The water horse bucks wildly, clearly in pain, as it sends up billows of steam.

  “Stop!” Tierney cries to Trystan. holding her palms out, desperation in her eyes. “Please!” She turns to the Kelpie and lets loose with a torrent of impassioned words in another language while the creature writhes, its watery hooves splashing against the ground, kicking up mud. As it struggles and rages, the Kelpie fixes me with a predatory look of hatred so strong I flinch back. Then its wavering form collapses into a puddle and streams back into the forest.

  In an instant, Yvan is down on one knee beside me, his unnaturally hot hand grasping my arm. The contact gives me a sudden sense of his fire power, unlea
shed and whipping protectively around me. His normally green eyes have turned a startling fiery yellow.

  “Elloren,” he says, “are you all right?”

  I nod stiffly and hold his searing gaze, overcome by the sensation of his fire rippling through me. Heat suffuses the very air between us, stealing my breath away.

  “He won’t come after her again. I’ll speak to him...” Tierney’s distraught voice breaks through our sudden thrall, and we both glance toward her. Yvan rises and holds his hand out to me.

  Heart thudding, I take Yvan’s startlingly warm hand and let him help me to my feet, my fire lines stirring chaotically in response to his touch. “Your eyes are gold,” I tell him, my voice rough with emotion, my fingers still twined around his.

  Yvan winces and abruptly tilts his head down. He closes his eyes tight, his sharp jaw tensing as he takes a deep, shuddering breath. When he opens his eyes again, their color has cooled to green. His hand falls away from mine, and he gives me an uneasy look, as if willing me to ignore the obvious.

  Fire Fae.

  “They’re killing them,” Tierney rages to Andras and my brother. “They’ve pounded iron spikes into the waterways. Five of my Kelpies are dead.”

  “Where is the other Kelpie now?” I ask her nervously.

  Tierney glances distractedly at the woods. “Gone. I spelled him down. It will take him days to reform.”

  “You never told me about this,” I say, rattled. “You never told me you have... Kelpies.”

  She looks back at me, contrite. “I’m sorry, Elloren. I keep so much secret... I never thought he’d attack anyone, but...” Fear fills her eyes. “He says that you’re the next Black Witch, Elloren. He says the whole forest believes it.”

  Trystan takes a step toward her. “Tell your Kelpie my sister is powerless.” His voice is calm, but deadly firm.

  Tierney furrows her brow at him. “The forest doesn’t believe that.” She looks to me entreatingly. “Why would the forest believe this, Elloren?”