by Leslie Chase
"Get on with it," she said. "If I have to put up with this, let's at least make it quick."
Meallan's smile widened a little, as though he enjoyed her discomfort. She wouldn't be surprised if he did, he seemed like that kind of asshole.
"Very well," he said. "If that's your wish."
He turned to the assembled court, raising one of her hands to his lips. "Lords and Ladies of the Court of the Storm, I call on you all to witness. I, Lord Meallan of the Lightning, take the hand of this woman, Princess Fiona, daughter and heir of King Keyne. I take her to be my wife, to have and to hold—"
"Let her go!"
The shout echoed through the room, cutting across Meallan's words. The entire room fell silent for a moment, shocked by the interruption, and the crowd turned as one to the man who had shouted.
Cole. Somehow, Cole had come for her.
He stood in the doorway, glaring at the shocked room with an anger that could have melted steel. For a moment, no one spoke. Tension hung in the air, palpable and deadly.
Then Meallan laughed. "Agent North, an unexpected pleasure. What do you think you're going to achieve here? I'm sure your superiors have told you that you should stay away."
"They did. But you didn't tell them that you were going to force Fiona into marriage," Cole said, stalking forward. He moved with a careful, controlled gait, as though he were fighting an urge to simply charge. "That is not going to happen."
"Why not? It's still an internal matter to our Court," Meallan said patiently, as though explaining something to a particularly dense child. "Outside of the Agency's jurisdiction and none of your business. Though if you want to stay and witness the ceremony, I have no objection."
The crowd laughed at that. Some of them sounded genuinely amused, others uncomfortable. Those seemed to be the ones closest to Cole as he approached — the fae lords took a few steps backward, keeping out of his way. Seeing the fury that flashed in his eyes, Fiona didn't blame them. Cole looked like he was on the verge of snapping and killing the first person he could get his hands on.
But he kept his focus, looking up at Meallan and Fiona. Gritting his teeth, he planted his feet and snarled. "This isn't happening, Meallan. I don't care what connections you have, it's over. Either you let Fiona go, right now, or I will break you and take her anyway. You will not hurt my love, not now or ever again."
Fiona found herself clutching at her heart. This was really happening. Somehow, Cole had known that she needed him and come for her. His eyes met hers for just a moment, and she could feel the power of his love for her, his commitment to keeping her safe. It was enough to melt the icy grip fear had on her, and her heart skipped a beat. He really does care. He loves me.
Despite the peril she was in, that made Fiona smile. Cole's presence made everything better.
Meallan, though, was less impressed. "I'm sure that posturing would intimidate your shifter family, bear. I am a lord of the fae, and not so easily cowed. Guards!"
His last word was a shout, and around the room Fiona heard swords being drawn. She gasped in fear, trying to shout a warning, but Cole was already moving before she could draw a breath.
Rather than heading for her, he dove towards the nearest swordsman. The elf had just enough time for his sword to clear its scabbard before Cole's fist struck him square in the face, sending him flying backward unconscious. Others closed in around him quickly, though, points lowered and blades gleaming, trapping Cole between them.
Fiona whimpered at the sight of them circling her man. They moved with inhuman grace and speed, and with their swords out, he was trapped. No matter how strong he was, how could he fight them barehanded? Did he arrive just for me to see him die defending me? Fiona couldn't believe fate would be that cruel, but she couldn't see how else this could end.
"I don't wish to kill an Arcane Affairs Agent, nor to make you watch him die," Meallan said, turning to Fiona. "Tell the bear to leave you in peace here, and I will let him go alive."
His hateful voice made up her mind — she knew from the look in his eyes that he wasn't as confident as he sounded. Fiona couldn't believe that he wanted to spare her man, so there must be a chance. Cole had come here knowing the risks, and she wouldn't throw away his sacrifice. Smiling sweetly, she looked Meallan in the eyes and shook her head.
"I'll never betray Cole," she said, clearly as she could for the whole room to hear. Then she kneed Meallan in the balls.
Or tried to, at least. The unfamiliar dress didn't make it easy, and his reactions were superb. Meallan twisted away and the attack only glanced off him, rather than hitting dead on. But whether from pain or outrage, he cried out at her attack and that was enough to make his guards look towards him for a moment.
The distraction was all Cole needed. Lunging for the nearest one, he knocked the sword's point out of the way and smashed the elf's face with a powerful right hook that sent him spinning away. Before the rest could react, he was out of the circle of guards and he was shifting. The strange, sickening sound of bones twisting and changing sounded over the music which was still playing, and where a pissed-off man had stood there was a furious grizzly bear.
And the bear was moving fast. The next guard was crushed under its paws before he had a chance to adjust, Cole simply running him down as though the elf wasn't there. The rest scrambled backward, getting space and bringing their swords around to block him in again. But as a bear, he had the reach to swing past the swords, and his tough hide turned the blade aside when an elf sliced at his arm.
Cole's claws tore across the elf's chest, blood spraying as the guard staggered back and dropped his sword. The remaining five guards took a step back too, exchanging worried look, and Fiona wanted to cheer.
Beside her, Meallan cursed and shot her a venomous look. "If you care for him so much, beloved, then I shall have to take him from you. Erion, hold her. Make sure she sees what happens when she defies me."
With that, he stepped away from the throne and her. Erion grabbed hold of her arms from behind, holding her facing down the aisle as Meallan stalked towards Cole and drew his sword.
The blade shone with a silver glow, and somehow Fiona knew that was trouble. Certainly Cole treated it with more respect than he had the thinner, smaller blades of the guards. He reared up, towering over the room and looked down at the approaching fae lord.
"This Court has made weapons to fight shifters for centuries," Meallan said with a vicious joy. "I didn't expect to need one myself, but it always pays to be prepared. And you don't have your iron to break my blade like you did Count Erion's, do you?"
Cole growled something, wary but not giving any ground. Meallan slowed his advance as he neared the bear, and the guards fell back to give their master space. They looked eager to be out of the way of this fight, and Fiona couldn't blame them.
Around the huge room, the lords and ladies of the Storm Court watched the duel. Some treated it as part of the entertainment, not caring who won or lost. Others watched with horror, or hope. No matter what happened, it would reshape court politics, and despite the dangers, no one seemed willing to miss that.
Meallan slowly extended his sword towards Cole, as though offering a chance to bat it aside. Cole watched warily, apparently unwilling to take the bait, and the whole room fell silent, everyone's attention fully on the pair dueling for Fiona.
In a blur, Meallan lunged forward. His blade stabbed further and faster than Fiona would have believed possible, but Cole was almost as quick, twisting aside and lashing out with a paw that would have torn Meallan's face off if he'd connected. The Elf ducked just in time, slashing at the bear's arm as it pulled back, and this time he drew blood. Just a little cut through the thick hide of the bear, and then they were pulling apart again.
The wound was small, but Cole shuddered and Fiona knew it was worse than it looked. Meallan looked at his opponent, gloating. "I have centuries of practice, shifter, and a blade made to end your kind. Even that little cut will turn you back into a hu
man soon enough. Do you really think you stand a chance?"
Cole growled again, holding his injured limb to his chest. Another shudder ran through him, and Fiona pulled against Erion's grip. She wanted to run to him, to tend his wound, to look after her mate. But the man behind her laughed and held her back.
"No you don't, Princess," he said. "You aren't going anywhere."
Princess. His use of the title might be mocking, but it was still a reminder of her place here. Or at least, the place she was supposed to have. Glancing away from the fight for a moment, she looked at the empty throne wreathed in lightning and felt it's call to her, the power of the storm that had been her father’s.
A roar drew her attention back to the fight, and she saw the two fighters close with each other again, Cole sweeping his good arm out in a mighty slash that would crush anyone he hit. Again, Meallan danced aside, and again he cut at the swinging paw. This time, Cole was ready for him.
There was no way that he could avoid the blade, and he didn't try. He simply lunged forward, his jaws snapping at Meallan. Surprised, the elf lord only just managed to get his face out of the way of the bite and his cut lost its power, glancing off the bear's hide.
Cole didn't let up, bounding into the elf, who desperately leaped backward to get some room. It wasn't enough, and while he was able to avoid the bear's jaws, he was hit in the shoulder and sent flying across the marble floor of the throne room.
Erion gasped, his grip on Fiona's shoulders slackening as the bear charged in for the kill. But Meallan's years of practice paid off. Despite the impact that Fiona would have expected to knock him senseless, he still held his sword and managed to raise the point towards Cole as he charged.
Fiona wanted to scream as the world seemed to slow around her. She willed Cole to dodge, to turn aside, to get out of the way of the blade, but he didn't even slow down. She could see his struggle to stay in his bear form was almost too much, and if he didn't win quickly, the fight would be over.
Instead of turning aside, he slammed his left arm down on the blade, taking the point to his forearm rather than his heart where Meallan had intended. Bright red blood sprayed in an arc as the point stabbed through his flesh and his body shuddered, the shift rippling out from the wound. The awful sound of his bones twisting back into human shape were horrible, and Cole's raw cry of anger and pain shook the room. Fiona felt it like a punch to her heart.
But rather than falling Cole stood up, locking the sword in his arm and twisting with all his strength. His wounded arm had shrunk around the blade, trapping it, and with a roar of effort Cole pulled the hilt out of Meallan's grip. The elf paled, grabbing for a dagger at his belt to replace it, but Cole was already punching with his right hand, and the dagger went flying. Bloody, naked, furious, Cole stood over the fallen fae lord, raining punches down on him until he lay still. Blood pooled around them on the cold marble.
Erion screamed, dropping Fiona and drawing his own sword.
"What are you waiting for?" he shouted to the guards. "He's human now — protect your lord!"
The remaining guards warily stepped forward again, and Cole looked up with a glare that held them back for a second. But only a second. The whole room could see that he was weak, unsteady, and without the armor and reach of his bear form, Fiona knew he was vulnerable. She'd have bet on her mate against any of them, or even any two. But five guards and Erion, all at once? Not even her Cole could face those odds and win.
He looked up at her, sadness in his gaze along with triumph. Fiona could see the iron resolve in him as he smiled, and it was as though she could hear his thoughts. He had won, he'd beaten Meallan, and what happened to him now didn't matter much to Cole. He might wish that he'd be able to live too, but his life for her happiness was a price he'd pay.
I won't, though. Your life is too high a price, you idiot, I won't let you die for me. I need you! Fiona felt desperation take hold of her. She couldn't face seeing him die. It was hard enough to walk away from him before, and now, when he'd just returned to save her? No. He couldn't die. She wouldn't allow it.
Erion closed with Cole, and Cole looked away from Fiona to glare at him. She winced as he gripped the hilt of Meallan's sword and drew it out of his arm, holding it unsteadily. Even Fiona could see that Cole wasn't a trained swordsman. That didn't stop him, though. Bleeding, wounded, wielding an unfamiliar weapon, he still fought. Fiona felt her fear for him give way to anger at his enemies. Their enemies.
Surrounding Cole, Erion and the guards edged closer, taking their time. They were in no hurry, after all. Cole took a step forward, knocking Erion's sword aside with his own, but one of the guards darted in, slicing across Cole's back. And that cowardly attack was the last straw for Fiona.
Time to find out if I am my father's daughter, she thought. The only plan she could think of was desperate, dangerous. It might kill her, even. But Cole had risked his life to save her, and she couldn't do any less for him.
"That's enough," she shouted, her voice echoing like thunder. A prickly, tingling sensation crawled across her skin as she stepped up beside the throne and grabbed hold of the lightning that wreathed it. She would not watch Cole die, not if there was anything that she could do about it. And it seemed there was.
The power of the Storm jolted through her as her anger unleashed it, and she could feel the force of it burning in her. She wasn't sure if she could have controlled it, but she didn't even try. Lighting crackling around her, she looked at Erion with all the rage of a thunderstorm and unleashed the fury at him.
It was like nothing else that she'd ever felt. The power burned through her, and Fiona found herself howling as winds picked up around her. From her outstretched hand, a bolt of lightning snapped into Erion, a blinding flash and deafening crack of thunder that sent him flying. All eyes were on her, and the room shook as the power of the elements overwhelmed her.
There was no controlling the power she'd called up, no putting it back down. Fiona felt her consciousness battered and blown around in the tempest. The screams of the court faded away as the power that was her birthright consumed her.
The storm howled through the room, powerful winds picking up fae nobles and sending them flying. Cole dropped his stolen sword and braced himself, blinking back the after-images of the lightning blast. Around him, the guards scattered. He didn't know if they were blown away by the wind or if they were prudent enough to run, but it didn't matter.
Falling to his knees, he struggled to focus. The wounds he'd suffered hurt, and he could feel his bear fighting against the influence of the silver. He wasn't going to be able to shift again, not anytime soon. Probably never, then, he thought. I doubt I'll make it out of here.
He looked up at the dais, and Fiona. She stood in the middle of the tempest, arms outstretched like some angry goddess. Winds howled around her, snow and rain whipping into those near her, and lightning snapped out again and again. It was terrifying and awe-inspiring to see her like that, and Cole was glad he had the chance.
Hands tugged at his arm and he winced, the sudden pain dragging his attention back from his mate. Almost, he lashed out at the person beside him, but he caught himself just in time. It was Skye, trying to get him to move.
"Come on," she shouted above the howling storm. "We have to get out of here. If she's lost control of the storm, the whole palace will come down on our heads."
"I can't leave Fiona," he said, shrugging her off.
"No one in here is going to live," Skye said. Pointing at Fiona and the fleeing nobles, she looked desperate. "I don't think anyone in this whole realm will! We have to go, she'd want you to survive."
She was right about that last, Cole knew. But that didn't mean he could leave her. He'd made that mistake once already.
"Go," he told Skye. "Run, get clear if you can."
Pushing himself off the floor, he set himself square with the winds and began to march towards his mate.
The storm battered at him, pounding him backward, and h
is wounds left him weak. It was a struggle to keep moving, to keep putting one foot in front of the other. But he wasn't going to let injuries stop him. Lowering his head, he pushed on, through the fleeing nobles and the icy rain. Through the wind that cut like a knife.
Fiona hung at the center of it all, her body suspended in the lightning. Arcs of electricity lashed out from her, striking the pillars of the room and the fae desperately trying to escape. Cole half expected to feel a bolt strike him, too. But the lightning bolts flashed past him leaving him dazzled and deafened.
The wind battered him backward, his bare feet slipping on the marble floor. Staying upright was a struggle, let alone moving forward, but his mate needed him. He wasn't going to let anything keep him away from her. That was the one thought he clung to, the only thing that mattered to him in the chaos and confusion.
Finally, he reached the dais. Straightening up he looked at Fiona, the winds still swirling around them, snow brushing over his body. She looks so beautiful, he thought, dazed by blood loss and the booming thunder. Beautiful and terrible and afraid.
Electricity sparked off her body, but he didn't let that stop him. He reached out for her and pulled her to him, letting the lightning burn through him as he brought his lips to hers. He didn't care if it killed him, as long as he died trying to save her. That was all that mattered.
As soon as their lips touched, she clung to him, answering his kiss with her own. They held each other tight, locked in a passionate embrace in the eye of the storm as lighting and snow and wind blasted them. Neither of them cared about the weather, or the magic. Together, it didn't matter where they were or what happened.
Cole broke the kiss at last, light-headed and shivering. Fiona looked up at him, her eyes bright and sparkling, her breathing fast. Reaching up to brush his cheek, she smiled and sighed.
"I love you," she said, quietly but sincerely, before pulling herself to him again and holding tight. "Oh, Cole, I'm so sorry."
Cole blinked and hugged her as much as his injured arms would let him. "I love you too, darling, and you've nothing to apologize to me for. I should never have left."