Warrior

by Lori Brighton

  Brynjar gave a quick jerk of his head and settled in the other chair. We fell silent. I was exhausted. Bloody exhausted. Her secret was out. Mine no longer to keep. How would she react when she uncovered the truth?

  “All this time I thought she would save us,” Brynjar said. “But now we have to save her.”

  “Save who?”

  Shay’s voice startled us both. Brynjar surged to his feet. I froze in my chair. She stood in the doorway of the tent, her arms full of medical supplies, her gaze narrowed in suspicion. Brynjar parted his lips to no doubt tell some falsehood she probably wouldn’t believe.

  Before he could speak, I interrupted. I couldn’t keep lying to her. Not another day. Not anymore. Not when my entire life had always felt like a lie. “You, Shay. We have to protect you.”

  She blushed and bustled into the tent. “Don’t be stupid. I never asked you to protect me. If anything, I’ll protect you morons. I am the chosen one, right?”

  She settled her supplies on the small table next to me. My comment had rattled her. I could see it in the tremble of her hands. When we didn’t respond, she stilled, her gaze on the tabletop.

  It was coming, I knew it, yet it was still heartbreaking to hear the words from her lips. Finally, she lifted her gaze and met mine. There was resignation there. Resignation and sadness and pain.

  “I’m not the princess, am I?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Shay

  I hated to admit it, but like most people I wanted to belong. Yeah, I wanted to feel special. Unique. Appreciated. But I hadn’t truly wanted to be royalty, and I certainly never believed I was the princess. Not deep down. I’d tried to warn them. They hadn’t listened. And now we might all suffer because of their stubbornness.

  “I’m not surprised,” I murmured.

  They didn’t respond, just watched me with those annoyingly sympathetic eyes. Even though I’d known, even though I was sure I was not their princess, it had made me feel wanted, needed. I felt different here, even still, knowing the truth. But did I have the right to feel special, or was I just plain old Shay?

  “I can still help,” I said, but it sounded pathetic and desperate even to my own ears. “I…I can—”

  “You can’t go into battle,” Brynjar interrupted, always so rational. “You’re not trained, and even the fates are not on your side.”

  Screw the fates.

  “Bullshit,” I snapped, growing angry. It was one thing for my insecurities to come calling. But I’d be damned if I’d let someone else label me. Was I not the one Queen Iduna had blessed? Could I not control animals? I was so tired of people underestimating me. “Why not?”

  “Because you are not the princess,” he snapped, raking his hands through his hair in obvious frustration. “You can’t save anyone! You’ll only get yourself killed! I…we can’t lose you again.”

  The tent went quiet, the only sound was our harsh breathing. I swore even outside the tent, the camp had gone still. Had they overheard? Was word spreading even now? The heat of shame could not be denied, it raced up my neck and into my cheeks for all to see.

  “Shay,” Mak murmured.

  I jerked my gaze toward him, my anger finding a new target. “How long have you known?”

  “Since we visited Queen Iduna.”

  His words cut. Why hadn’t he told me? Had he clung to the secret so that he might use it later, to win this battle of kingdoms? I searched his face, but could read nothing but regret in his eyes. I was unsure how I felt about anything anymore. “She knew I wasn’t the princess?”

  He nodded.

  It was an achingly familiar feeling; one I’d felt often as a small child. One I thought I’d gotten over. Betrayal. It was as if someone had reached into my chest, pulled out my heart, and tossed it into the trash. He’d known. All this time, he’d known. I’d been a complete fool. He’d let me believe I was special. Had he laughed at me behind my back? Or had he felt sorry for me? Pity? I’d rather he’d laughed.

  “Shay,” he said softly. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I—”

  “I’ve brought medicine for your wound.” I shoved the tin toward him. When he didn’t take it, but continued to stare up at me, I let it go. The tin dropped into his lap. “Has fairy dust, so should work quickly.”

  Brynjar hesitated nearby, his gaze fluttering from me to the prince, and back to me. Was he nervous about leaving me alone with Mak? Rather amusing, considering we’d been together a year. I glared at him. I didn’t need a knight in shining armor. I could take care of myself. He flushed as if reading my thoughts, bowed, then left us.

  “Take off your shirt,” I demanded.

  Mak quirked a brow.

  I wasn’t going to fall for his charm. Not now. “Shut up.”

  His lips were pulled into a smile as he lifted the material over his head, but he couldn’t hide the cringe that crossed his eyes as the wound pulled with his movement. He was in more pain than he’d let on. The cut was a red, swollen mark against his otherwise perfect skin. Despite my determination not to care, seeing the infected wound sent my heart lurching.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was trying to protect you.”

  I placed my hand to his forehead. Sure enough, he had a fever. “About the wound, you idiot.”

  “Oh.” He looked down at the injury, his gaze showing little interest or worry. “Because there was nothing you could have done.”

  I sighed, settling on the chair across from him, so close his scent overwhelmed me. So close, that I was forced to settle my knees between his. It had been three days since we’d bathed. While I smelled like something dragged through the armpit of a muddy, humid swamp, he smelled like…well, a prince. “We could have asked the villagers for medicine.”

  Of course I wasn’t royalty. Yes, it had been fun to pretend, to be pulled into their world, but I’d known the truth. All anyone had to do was look at me, for god’s sake.

  “Shay, they’ve undoubtedly used it all on their injured.”

  He was probably right. Still, it wouldn’t have hurt to ask. “Hurry with the medicine.”

  “So impatient. It’s almost as if you care.” He opened the tin. “Can you help? I can’t really see the wound.”

  I gave him a hard stare, but he merely looked innocently back at me.

  “Fine.”

  With trembling fingers, I scooped up a teaspoon of the medicine. With a gentle, careful swipe, I spread the balm across the cut. I could feel his gaze on me. A heavy, piercing gaze. Heat pulsed through my body, rushing to my limbs, burning my face. I could hardly catch breath when I touched him. When he touched me. He was so damn beautiful.

  “There.”

  I didn’t miss the way my voice came out breathless, and from the heated look in his beautiful eyes, neither had he. I ignored him, determined not to let my attraction toward Mak influence me. But damn it all, I couldn’t ignore the way he made my body feel. The quickening of my pulse, the flutter of my heart, the twist of my belly.

  It didn’t take long before the red cut started to fade, the edges mending together as if the wound had never been there. I knew if I felt his forehead, his temperature would be normal, but I didn’t dare touch him.

  If only we’d had such medicine on Earth. Then again, Earth wasn’t exactly known for being frugal with their natural resources. Forests and oceans were treated like dumps. They would have destroyed the fairies and their magic long ago. Much like Mak’s uncle wanted to do.

  My gaze shifted from his wound to his chest. My face grew uncomfortably warm. It was solid muscle. Dips and planes of muscles. He was injured, and I was gawking at his chest. I tore my gaze from his body, and focused on his face. Not any better. He was more handsome than any guy had a right to be.

  I wanted to kiss him. To lean forward and mold my lips to his. Wanted to feel the scruff of his facial hair on my palms as I touched him. Fortunately, he was too busy trying to wrap the bandage around his waist to notice my wandering g
aze.

  “I can’t save my people. I’m not the princess,” I said. The weight I’d been carrying for days only seemed heavier, pushing down on my body, heart, soul. “What am I doing here?”

  “Why can’t you save your people?” He was fidgeting with the edge of the bandage, trying to tuck it in. A lock of hair fell across his forehead. “Who says?”

  With an impatient sigh, I scooted closer and took the edges of the bandage. He’d probably never had to do something as menial as dress his own wound. My fingers brushed his hard, warm abdomen as I tucked in the loose end. His stomach muscles jumped. A tingle of awareness whispered through me, a desperate voice that wondered if he wanted me as much as I wanted him. “Because the myth says…”

  He snorted. “The myth? Myths aren’t fact, Shay. They can change.”

  I sank back into my chair, my gaze on the tent flap where I could peek a group of soldiers cleaning armor, the metal glinting under the fading sunlight. In the distance the war raged on, the sounds muffled, but horrific. Sounds from a nightmare. From a horror movie. I doubted I would ever forget them. “I’m no one.”

  “You’re Acadian, Shay. You belong here as much as any of them. And I’ve seen what you’re capable of, with or without the powers Queen Iduna bestowed.” He leaned closer, his gaze locked to mine. Eyes so intense, I couldn’t look away. “I know you. If you want to save your kingdom, you will. Don’t let others decide your fate. Your opinion is the only one that matters. You decide what you’re capable of. You. Only you.”

  Despite Mak’s motivational speech, memories whispered through my mind. Memories made by a woman who was supposed to love me unconditionally. Rationally, I knew she wasn’t even related to me. She didn’t matter. So why couldn’t I forget her damning words? The way she had made me feel?

  “Don’t doubt yourself,” Mak said, interrupting my thoughts. Impatiently, he brushed back his hair. “I see the hesitation in your eyes. Remember, you were chosen by Queen Iduna because she saw something special in you.”

  He was right, she had chosen me. But why?

  He took my hands in his, his fingers warm and strong. “Even if she hadn’t chosen you…”

  “What?”

  His thumbs rubbed the backs of my hands. “Even if she hadn’t chosen you, you’re one of the strongest people I know, Shay. If you want to help your people, you can. If you want to save your kingdom, you will. Powers or no powers. I believe in you.”

  The weight receded. Just like that I melted. Fell into a puddle at his feet. How did he always know what to say? “Don’t do that.”

  He grinned. “Don’t do what?”

  “Be all charming. Say the perfect words. I’m not going to fall for it.”

  He released my hands and gripped the edge of my chair, pulling me closer. My knees pressed to his inner thighs. “Aren’t you?”

  Yes, damn him. He believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. But how could I fall for him when he was a prince and I was just…me?

  When he slid his finger under my chin and tilted my head back, I didn’t resist. His lips brushed mine, light as a feather. I shivered. It shouldn’t have felt so wonderful. It did. His lips molded to mine once more, harder this time. My heart hammered madly, my hands curling into fists on my lap. One kiss. One last kiss.

  In many ways it was a relief to realize I wasn’t the princess. Whoever she might be, I didn’t envy her one bit. The stress of doing what was right, of having so many lives to protect, forced to marry someone you didn’t love. It was too much. Too much for anyone.

  Yet, I’d wanted so badly to be appreciated. To belong. And when he touched me, I felt like I was, I did. Mak pulled back and stared into my eyes. I swore his gaze glowed green. So very green. What mysteries did he hold? What hadn’t he told me?

  He cupped the sides of my face. My hands flattened to his shoulders. A soft rain started to patter against the tent as he lowered his head again. I didn’t pull away, but welcomed his kiss. His lips were firm, warm, so very delicious. With a whimper, I sank into his hard chest.

  My body burned for him. At night, I ached for his touch. I wanted to hold his hand while we walked, I wanted to lean into his strength when I was tired. I wanted to talk to him about my problems, my worries.

  I’d become so good at burying my emotions, building that wall. When he kissed me, I couldn’t hide anymore. When he kissed me…he truly kissed me. Not the emotionless robot I’d become. And it scared me, as much as it tempted me.

  “Shay?” the general’s voice pierced the tent.

  I jerked back from Mak, and jumped from the chair. My face burned, my lips still tingled from his touch. I knew I looked guilty as hell. Mak looked just as bemused, his high cheekbones tinged pink, his eyes heated, glowing.

  “Your eyes,” I warned him.

  Even though I wasn’t exactly sure what I warned him about.

  “Yes? I’m in here,” I called out, my voice shaky and breathless. So very telling.

  The old man brushed aside the tent flap, looking in with uncertainty. Great, how long had he been standing there? The thought that the general might know what we had done, might have seen us even, mortified me. Mak averted his gaze, searching for his shirt. So then, as I expected, those glowing eyes were something he didn’t want people to know about.

  “I need to speak with you.” His attention flickered toward Mak. “In private.”

  Mak pulled on his shirt, his movements stiff with pain. “I’ll see about a meal.”

  The general watched Mak warily as the prince left the tent. He didn’t trust him. Probably never would. Maybe I was stupid, maybe it was the infatuation talking, but I did trust him, and I didn’t want him to go. I wanted him here, at my side, with me. A team. We’d been a team for so long now. The tent went quiet as Mak left. I waited for the general to speak, but he seemed as reluctant to be there as I.

  “I…that is…we…” His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. “Brynjar told me about…”

  My legs went weak. He knew. Brynjar had told him. Who else had he told? “I’m not the princess.”

  His hand flexed over the hilt of his sword, making me nervous. I had to resist the urge to take a step back. Would he kill me? Surely not. I might not be the princess, but I was still Acadian. Wasn’t there some sort of loyalty?

  I stood my ground, preparing to beg. I couldn’t go back to New York. I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. “It wasn’t my fault. I told him that—”

  “You’re my daughter.”

  I wouldn’t have been more surprised if he’d taken that sword and shoved it through my gut. My mouth dropped open, my gaze went wide and unblinking.

  Impossible.

  Insane.

  It couldn’t…

  Suddenly it all came rushing back. Everything Helen had told me.

  “Who were they?” I’d asked at the castle.

  She’d looked so serious, so sure. “They say one baby was the general’s daughter.”

  The daughter of royalty. The daughter of a sorcerer. The daughter of a general. I was no princess, I was no sorcerer, which meant…

  No.

  It couldn’t be.

  He couldn’t be.

  “How do you know?” I was surprised and proud when my voice didn’t quiver. “You can’t be sure. We look nothing alike. It’s silly, really.”

  “I know because you have my eyes,” he said softly “The same eyes my mother had, and her father before her.”

  For some reason his comment hit me hard. I stumbled back, collapsing onto the chair Mak had only just vacated. A wave of confusing emotions hit me all at once. Shock. Horror. Confusion. And most of all, terror. Had I traded one monster of a mother for a monster of a father? What the hell was wrong with me?

  “Shay, say something.”

  Panic made my chest grow tight. I was going to be sick. No, I couldn’t be ill. I wouldn’t. Surely he wasn’t as bad as Sarah, was he? “I see.”

  Cold, harsh reality lay between us. It was as i
f I’d been starving and he’d entered the tent and thrown a bag of dead kittens at my feet. I wasn’t sure what to do with the information. Deep down I knew I should have been happy. I had a father. A family. A home. But it was a dead past that held no importance toward my future. We were not connected; there was no bond. There was no emotion between us.

  “I thought,” he said. “When I first saw you, I thought you might be, but I wasn’t sure.”

  I could barely hear his words. A million things raced through my mind at once. This man, this gruff, unbending man, was my dad. This man who had sent me away to another realm to live with a monster of a woman.

  But I had family. I was a soldier’s daughter. And Mak…was a prince. What would he do when he found out I was common? Commoners didn’t marry royalty; he’d told me that long ago.

  I looked at the tent flap, wavering in the wind and laughed. I was common, as I’d always known. Nothing special.

  The general shifted closer. “I sent you away because I thought it was the best opportunity to save you. When your mother died, I was fighting in the war and—”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. I wanted to release the scream that had lodged in my throat. I wanted to pick up the chair and slam it against the ground until it broke to pieces. I wanted to run far, far away. And the old Shay would have. “I get it.”

  And I did. He’d done what he thought was right. And maybe sending me to Earth had been the right thing, or maybe it had been a mistake. Either way, it had destroyed me. The me I was supposed to be. I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling cold, dizzy. I was no one now. Forever caught between two realms, never truly belonging.

  “The woman who escorted you to Earth, the woman who was supposed to protect you, was one of three who were chosen. I thought…they were supposed to be maternal, kind, loving, but I hadn’t really questioned them. I’d been busy.”

  Numb, I nodded. He was sorry. I got it. I didn’t really care. What I cared about was the fact that I’d had a mother. A mother who had died, apparently in childbirth. Because of me. I’d destroyed her life, just like I’d destroyed Sarah’s.