Lightness Falling (Lightness Saga Book 2)

by Stacey Marie Brown

“Exactly. I am a Druid, so why would they want to kill me?”

  “Again, I don’t think this attack was meant for you.”

  “Okay, but what would they gain killing my allies?”

  “Don’t be naïve, Ms. Johnson.” Lars slanted his head in disappointment. “See through their eyes, not yours.”

  I huffed, hating being chastised, but he was right; I needed to look at the facts and history.

  “They’re striking out at all fae,” I acknowledged.

  “Yes, especially anyone who was with Aneira during that time…those high-powered officials at her beck and call to destroy all Druids without reason or cause.”

  Not much different from what Hitler did to the Jewish. Except the Druids were now retaliating.

  “This just feels wrong. Druids are healers; we don’t murder.”

  “Anyone can if pushed too far.” Lars leaned against the mantle.

  My gaze darted to Lorcan, and a feeling of protectiveness clogged my chest. I would have killed those who set the bombs if they had killed him. Lorcan hadn’t said a word, nor had he looked at me once. The wall between us grew thicker by the moment.

  “We are at a great disadvantage, Ms. Johnson.” Would he ever get used to calling me by my first name? “And I do not like any odds not in my favor. But tonight we lost three exceedingly powerful fae against our fight with Luuk. And now we have a whole new contender on the field, coming at us from the side.”

  “What do we do?” I felt like my entire kingdom was slipping through my fingers.

  “I spoke to Torin right before you came in. He was very distraught and wanted to come here. His dedication to you is courageous. I had to threaten him to stay put.” Lars lifted an eyebrow, hinting at his underline meaning. “Everything is fine back home. Your double is doing an excellent job selling the story and playing you. So far Torin has received no word anyone has caught on. However, it will simply be a matter of time.”

  “I can’t go back yet. We have to figure out what to do to save our kingdom.”

  “I agree completely with you.” Lars nodded. “What would you do next? What would be the most logical step now?”

  Lars loved to test me to see how worthy of my crown I was. I had no doubt he already had his answer but wanted to see if mine matched his.

  I took a deep breath, letting my brain file the data in a coherent order.

  What we didn’t have:

  1.) Luuk’s location and his next piece in the plot.

  2.) Support since losing the three nobles.

  What we did have:

  1.) A lead on a new group against us.

  2.) A location of where they could be.

  “We go to Ireland,” I replied, standing behind my statement. “While we figure out what to do about Luuk and his militia, we follow the only lead we have. Find the leader of this Druid group and stop them from getting into the game.”

  A grin spread over Lars’s mouth. “You are turning out to be an extraordinary Queen, Ms. Johnson.”

  Any kind of praise from Lars was few and far between, and I blushed with warm fuzzies. But with Lars, it always came with stipulations.

  “I need you to go one step further, Ms. Johnson.”

  Finding them was such a general plan; he wanted a more concrete idea. Discovering a secret group, who probably took great care in not being discovered and had Druid powers to do it, was not an easy task.

  I knew exactly what needed to be done. It was the only way to find this faction and get close enough to the kingpin. “I go undercover. Become the exact thing we seek.”

  Lars’s eyes glinted with pride.

  As a Druid, I was the only one. Lars was far too recognizable, and even in disguise they would not let a demon with power like his anywhere near the hive. He’d be killed in an instant. It had to be me—a Druid who had been in hiding, pursuing revenge like the others.

  “What? Oh hell no.” Lorcan flipped between Lars and me like a windshield wiper. “Are you serious? It’s far too risky.”

  Lars spun toward Lorcan. “It’s dangerous if we let them continue to grow in strength.”

  “No. Fuck. No.” Lorcan’s jaw set. “What if they find out who she is? They will kill her.”

  “That’s why you will go with her. Protect her.”

  Lorcan’s and my mouths dropped together.

  “Wh-wh-a-t?” I stammered. “Lorcan can’t come with me.”

  “Why the hell not?” Fury curled Lorcan’s hands.

  “Because you are fae.” Duh. “You are the precise thing they want to kill.”

  A mechanical laugh sputtered from Lorcan. “And you think you can do this by yourself? You?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I placed one hand on my hip, the other searching to adjust my nonexistent glasses, seeking the comfort of the action amidst a whirl of anger.

  “Come on, Ken.” He motioned up and down me. “You are honest, kind, and softhearted. You think you can walk up to the door and they will believe you’re some Druid extremist? I know better than anyone you can’t lie to save your life. It would be like a baby caribou walking into a lion’s den drenched in its own blood.”

  Why did every supposedly nice word feel like an insult? “I am not that naïve,” I exclaimed, feeling irritation burn my cheeks. “Maybe I was, but it was a long time ago. A lot has changed since then. I’m different.”

  “I don’t doubt it, but your core hasn’t changed. It’s not a bad thing. You just weren’t meant to deceive. That’s what makes you, you.” He was right. It was not in my nature, but it still upset me. I didn’t like him “knowing” me so well.

  “Don’t underestimate me, dweller.” My queenly tone flushed over my tongue. Yes, I had a certain tone which usually came out when dealing with obstinate nobles at meetings. “There isn’t anything I won’t do for the safety of my people.”

  Lorcan’s shoulders rolled back, like I’d smacked his nose with a newspaper. “Fine.” Lorcan rolled his jaw. “Suit yourself, Majesty,” he sneered.

  Lars watched us, his expression blank, but a hint of amusement remained in his eyes.

  “I will head for Belfast tomorrow,” I stated, staring at Lars.

  “Both of you will.”

  “Lars—” I tried to interject, but he held up his hand, shutting my mouth.

  “And do not underestimate me, Ms. Johnson. I am not foolish enough to send in a dark dweller with you if I thought it would put you in more danger.”

  “Then how—?” I touched my mouth, stopping myself.

  “I have it on extremely good authority Druids are using their powers to control fae, to do their ‘dirty’ work.”

  Lorcan swung to Lars. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. The Druid who once practiced mind control had been taken care of, but I’ve heard rumors the method has continued on.”

  In the last year I had read a lot about fae history. The books actually told me their stories. The bonus of having fae books: it’s like a fun audiotape. They loved to talk and tell you all that’s written in the pages, plus bits of gossip that aren’t. One of them had been about the Druid genocide, which I was particularly interested in. Though Aneira had sown a great deal of hate, not all anti-Druid fears were unbiased.

  A select group of “dark” Druids had started using fae as their puppets. Fae did not take well to being dominated. They could do it to others but did not want it done upon them.

  My mind whirled with where Lars was going, the plan forming in my head. A slow smile crept on my face. “So Lorcan would go in as my marionette.”

  “Precisely.” Lars rocked back and forth on his heels, a wicked grin pushing up his mouth. Lorcan’s and Lars’s past was rocky at best, as Lorcan was part of the reason the love of Lars’s life was dead. Through the war they had become allies and now worked together, but the bond was precarious, and at any moment I sensed they could return to being enemies.

  Lars seemed to be enjoying Lorcan’s discomfort far too much.


  “No.” Lorcan’s head began to move. “No. No. No. Absolutely not.”

  “You said you would protect her with your life, did you not, Mr. Dragen?” Lars’s perfectly manicured eyebrow bowed up.

  “Yes, but—”

  “And you would do whatever it took to keep her safe?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “There is no but. Her safety and well-being come first, and I thought you would agree with me.” He wasn’t forcing him, but the weight of Lars’s power still bobbed like a buoy.

  Lorcan ran his hand over his neck, his forehead crinkled with frustration. “Of course it is.”

  “Then we are at an agreement?” Lars clasped his hands in front of him.

  Lorcan glared at Lars but nodded at long last.

  “Good.” Lars’s smugness choked the room. He never had a doubt he would get his way. The King turned to me. “Don’t be afraid to actually use your powers on him, Ms. Johnson... and make sure the collar is tight.”

  Brynja showed us to our rooms upstairs, placing Lorcan and me across the hall from each other. He stayed stalwart in his silence, not even saying good night before he disappeared behind the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

  I knew he was not happy about his role or going undercover, but the freeze had started prior to that. Now we had reached arctic levels of chill between us. Blinking back the hurt, I shut my door, my shoulders sagging with the weight of the night.

  Lars told us we would set out for Ireland in the morning. He would head back to Seattle, encouraging the notion we’d been nowhere near this latest incident. The media was probably already hounding both our camps for a response to the death of the nobles. I knew Olivia could handle it. She was amazing, but I still hated putting this on her too.

  I stepped farther into the large chamber. It reminded me of Ember’s room at the compound. A mix of modern and old. Lush velvet and faux fur blankets and pillows, a modern chandelier hanging over the king-size, princess-style bed, designed in soft grays, creamy yellows, and icy blues. The lavish bathroom contained a claw-footed tub, walk-in shower, and heated floors.

  It was gorgeous and luxurious, but lacked the homey feel I longed for. After the night we had, I craved a comfy couch, my friends, and a bowl of mac-n-cheese or pizza.

  I stripped off what was left of my clothing and cringed when the melted fabric tore pieces of my skin from my body. But I was lucky. Very, very lucky.

  Turning on the faucet I gritted my teeth as I stepped into the shower, my sensitive skin aching under the spray. I scrubbed away the blood, soot, and grime and tried not to think of the gruesome images of fragmented bodies and burnt flesh popping back into my head. But they wouldn’t go away.

  Neither would the overwhelming pressure of being Queen, along with all that had happened and what still lay ahead. The impossible feat of keeping the kingdom from crumbling. The family and friends I had lost but had no time to mourn. Now alone, sobs tore from my chest, my tears merging with the drops of water.

  I wanted to give up. To step aside and let someone else take over. It was so tempting. I was a twenty-three-year-old girl who didn’t even get to graduate high school before her life was turned upside down. I had dreamed of going to college, not ruling the fae nation. I had no clue what I was doing. Fighting against such extreme hatred, prejudice, constant threats, and attacks would cause anyone to buckle.

  Unfortunately I was not the type to give up. I worked until I understood or figured it out. Being bad at something was never comfortable for me. And this was no different. I couldn’t let down Lars, myself, or the people who counted on me.

  I turned my head up to the stream and washed away the last of my tears.

  “Never give up. Never surrender,” I mumbled to myself. It was a quote from one of my dad’s favorite movies. When I had been picked on at school or had a bad day, he would come into my room, rub my back, and quote the line, never failing to make me smile. I could see him in my head, stroking my back and telling me to get up and to keep fighting.

  “Okay, Dad,” my voice cracked, feeling his ghost curl around my heart. “Never surrender. I promise.”

  Limp and exhausted, I dressed in a fluffy robe hanging behind the door and stumbled to the bed. Lars had promised fresh clothes would arrive in the morning.

  I curled onto my side and let the huge bed engulf me, giving over to my exhaustion.

  I sat up, the scream shredding through my teeth into the pitch-black room, a drop of sweat trailing down the side of my temple.

  Alone. Dark.

  My heart thumped in my chest as I tried to swallow, shoving down the visual of the dead bodies, guts, blood, and bones spread over the hotel room. Lorcan’s detached head in the middle.

  “Shhh…” A voice surprised me as a figure crawled onto my bed next to me. “I’m here. You’re safe.” Lorcan’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me into him, his hand stroking over my head and down my back. “This is real. I’m real.”

  It had merely been a nightmare, my soul’s reaction to the horror I had seen tonight. I knew perfectly well where I was. Selfishly I still let him hold me as he went through our ritual. It felt so good snuggling into his chest. I blissed out at the sound of his heartbeat thumping against my ear. I could have so easily lost him tonight, finding him in pieces like I did Demrik.

  And suddenly I was all too aware of his nudity, of the speed at which he’d run in here to console me without hesitation.

  “What do you smell, hear, and feel?” He brushed my hair over my ear, tugging on it.

  My body felt alive with need, his touch twisting my mind like a ball of twine.

  “I smell you,” I whispered, moving my head up toward his neck, allowing my impulse to override my brain, the night draping protectively over me, giving me confidence I wouldn’t have in the light of day. “I hear the pounding of your heart…” My lips grazed his collarbone. He went still, his breath catching. The wall he had put up earlier re-formed.

  I wanted to smash it to dust.

  “Ken…” My name felt shrouded in cautionary tape. I ignored his tone, brushing my mouth over his Adam’s apple. My fingers worked at the knot of my robe.

  “And I want to feel you... deep inside.” My bluntness would have embarrassed me at one time, but Lorcan had a way of smashing through my comfort zones and pushing me to the edge. Making me accept all aspects of myself.

  He sucked in sharply, his throat bobbing as I nipped at his skin. My fingers loosened the robe tie as I climbed onto my knees, opened it, and let it slide off my body.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, red coating the green of his eyes. I could see every part of him was turned on.

  Tonight I didn’t want to think about the reasons I shouldn’t be doing this or denying my attraction to him. I just wanted.

  “Kennedy. Stop,” he growled, barely clear enough to understand.

  “No.” I ran my hand down his torso, skimming the tip of him.

  He grabbed my arms, tossing me back onto the bed, climbing over me, his expression fierce and angry.

  “You think you want this, but you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do.” I exhaled, the ache growing into painful levels.

  “No. You won’t tomorrow.” He growled. “I can’t do this anymore... after what happened earlier...”

  “Please,” I pleaded. His lashes flattened together, a struggle clamping his features. “Just tonight.”

  “Exactly.” He shook his head. “But it wouldn’t be. You would hate me.”

  “I can’t hate you.” I pulled pointlessly against his hold on my wrists. “I tried.”

  He opened his eyes. Pinning both my arms with one hand, he palmed himself, skimming his length over me. I gasped, my hips bucking up.

  “Jesus, I want to fuck you. So unbelievably hard,” he spit out, fury rolling his muscles. “Until you shatter over and over… so filled with me, you can’t breathe.”

  “Oh god. Yes.” I heard myself begging, desperate for him to do exactly that.
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  My head spun at the friction of him sliding himself over me again and again. “You want this.” A cruel smile twisted his mouth as he continued to rub against me.

  I nodded feverishly.

  “Say it,” he demanded, low and gruff. His voice and movements fogged everything with lust.

  “I want you. Now.” I hissed, arching.

  A smug smile grew on his mouth, flicking with rage. “You will hate yourself and me. Trust me,” he rumbled, shoving back on his knees. He flicked the necklace lying between my breasts with disgust. “Stay with your fairy knight. Have him fuck you like the submissive dog he is.”

  Lorcan climbed off the bed, his feet heavy as he stomped through the room, slamming my door. A second later, the sound of his door banging rang down the hallway.

  I propped myself on my elbows staring at the door with bewilderment. My chest crashed against my ribs at the same time I felt the sharp loss of near-gratification and extreme humiliation.

  What the hell just happened? Why was he so mad?

  Damn! He totally rejected me. A silent sob ricocheted in my chest. It was like he put my heart in an industrial-size shredder, tearing and slashing it into powder, covering me in utter mortification.

  From the moment we got out of the helicopter I had felt his anger and coldness increase. All directed at me. I had no idea why, but now I had a taste of his cruel torment. My heart was hurt, my mind was furious, but my body still craved his like a junkie. An addict who never wanted to recover.

  THIRTEEN

  By morning the swirl of emotions condensed down to one. Rage. Hurt and embarrassment gave up the battle and produced one foul mood.

  As Lars promised, I found clothes on the bed when I got out of the shower. A variation of what I had before: dark jeans, a black sweater, and this time black biker boots with steel toes. A thigh-length, faux fur jacket, beanie, and gloves were also included. Ireland at this time of year could be freezing.

  I grabbed the jacket and clomped down the hallway, glaring at Lorcan’s door before descending to the first level. Voices led me to the back of the house to the kitchen. This room held all the latest stainless steel appliances, with sleek white counters, and cupboards with glass insets. Glass penlights and a crystal lamp hung over the breakfast table. Hazy sun glinted through the windows, displaying the grand gardens in the back.