Page 22

Chapter 20

Morgana

I dodge the fist hurtling toward me, feeling the air on my skin as it whistles past my cheek.

Going to sleep in the barn was easy thanks to the surprisingly soft hay and the plant Leon gave me to eat again, but things are no more fun in here—the forest in my dreams—than they were before.

The next fist connects with my arm, forcing a groan from me as I stumble backward. I roll my shoulder, gasping at the pain. It feels like he came just shy of dislocating it. Instinctively, I scramble behind a tree as he whirls around for another hit.

“Stop running and start fighting,” he orders.

“Sorry,” I throw back sarcastically as he stalks toward me. “For some reason I don’t enjoy holding still so I can get beaten to a pulp.”

“Your magic isn’t going to show up unless you start standing your ground,” he grunts. He rounds the tree I’m sheltering behind, kicking out. I roll away just in time, and his foot hits the bark, leaving a crack running through the wood. In real life, I don’t think I’d be quick enough to duck his blows, but at least here in my mind we’re more evenly matched.

“Standing my ground has nothing to do with whether my power turns up,” I shout back breathlessly as I find another tree to throw my back against. “It’s not like I got a choice with Bede. I didn’t stand up to him—fuck!”

I don’t hear Leon’s approach, so I’m not prepared when he rounds the side of the tree and drives an elbow into my side. I go down like a sack of potatoes, ignoring the ache radiating across my torso as I try to drag myself through the dirt and leaves away from him. At least I’ve managed to avoid getting pulled back into that memory with Bede. Even if that’s what is getting in the way of my magic, I’m glad to not have to revisit it.

“And what happened in the forest, after the trading post?” Leon asks, annoyingly unruffled as he batters the crap out of me.

It’s a fair question, I have to admit. My magic turned up long after those strange men had been hunting me, after the major threat was gone. Why then?

“I was panicking,” I say, glaring at him as he slowly approaches like a mountain lion sizing up its prey. “I mean, I was scared before, but then when Alastor came back…”

“What was it?” he says, pausing. “What did he say that changed things?”

I think back, picturing Alastor describing how I was a wanted criminal now.

“I had nowhere to go,” I say, realization dawning on me. “No way out. I was trapped.”

“And that’s when your magic showed up,” Leon says and lunges.

He grabs me by the straps of my tunic and throws me up against a tree trunk, pinning me there.

“Trapped like this?” he asks, his voice soft and dangerous.

Something knots in my stomach, a new tension I don’t give a name to.

“Get off me,” I bark, struggling against his grip. I think back to the training Will gave me and realize that he went easy on me, possibly giving me a few wins that I didn’t deserve. My feet are hanging off the ground, but my legs are still loose, so I kick out, pummeling him using the balls of my feet so I don’t injure myself. He finally shifts, a tiny flash of discomfort on his face. It’s enough movement for me to get an arm loose, and I shove against him, but it’s like trying to move stone.

My anger flares, a twisting, churning rage at not being able to move, at this bastard for pinning me here. His gray eyes brighten, and I realize this is what he wants. He’s enjoying my anger.

The rage subsides a little, and a sliver of reason wriggles in. After all, he has to let me go eventually. I stop shoving and kicking, instead going limp. I stop fighting, and now it’s his turn to look angry.

“What are you doing?” he demands. “Stop blocking yourself, Ana.”

I told him not to use that name for me before. His choice to use it now has to be deliberate—another attempt to goad me—but I ignore it.

“I’m not blocking myself,” I argue.

He makes a noise of pure frustration, then lifts me from the tree and shoves me to the ground.

“Yes you are,” he says, and my heart jumps as he starts to climb on top of me. “Just when you get close to tapping into your core, you push it down.” He pins me between his thighs, and I’m acutely aware of the press of his body against mine. I expect to be overcome by fear, yet instead, a different kind of reaction fizzles beneath my skin.

“You’re trapped, Ana,” he says, his voice taunting. “You have nowhere to go.”

I know what he’s doing.

“Stop it,” I order. “That’s enough.”

But the smug smile on his face just widens. “You think you can escape me?” He leans forward until his body is stretched over mine, his arms bracketing my face. I turn my face away as he brings his in close.

“Come on, Ana,” he murmurs into my ear. “Let your power go. Get angry. Stop acting like the sniveling, sickly human you always thought you were.”

Leon pushes his chest against mine and I’m forced to take smaller breaths. “Leon!”

In response, he laughs, sending a shiver up my spine. Fury builds as I glare at him and he smirks down at me. He thinks he’s in control here. He thinks he can do whatever he likes to me, get whatever he wants from me. My blood warms, sending heat rushing through me, and that fury only serves to stoke the flames higher.

“I said get off me,” I hiss, then whip my head round as hard as I can. His face is so close that the side of my skull collides with it, smashing against his nose. He grunts, tilting away from me, and I throw my body against his weight, moving with the momentum he’s created.

We roll over, and now I’m the one on top of him . For a second, I’m still caught by the way our bodies fit together—how my ass is nestled against his hips—but then I catch the smirk still dancing on his face and bring my fists down on his chest.

“Smug, arrogant, prick!” I shout, hitting him with each word.

He reaches up and catches my wrists, and as hard as I tug, I can’t get free.

“Such ugly words from a pretty little princess,” he tuts, condescending and infuriating. The burning in my veins boils over. It’s right there, my magic, all I have to do is reach for it?—

Golden light explodes around us, enveloping the forest. I embrace it, concentrating on pushing it outward.

I wake with the power still flooding through me, a glow lighting up the barn around me. A beam is blazing across the room, from my chest right through the wall opposite.

This is my magic , I tell myself. I’m in control .

I grip the reins of the power I pushed outward moments ago, pulling it back into myself. The beam disappears, and the glow fades.

But I still feel the anger smoldering within me.

I’ve tucked my magic away for now, but my rage refuses to be checked. I feel Leon’s presence beside me. When I look up into his face, I see his satisfied expression at getting what he wanted.

“Well done,” he says, pleased. “You found it.”

I say nothing. Yes, I found my power, but I can’t feel any pleasure about that when I’m still so angry. I need to cool off, get some distance so I can calm down, but as I stand up, he stands with me.

“What, don’t tell me you’re pissed with me?” he asks.

“You didn’t have to push me so hard,” I say. I was hoping to sound composed—reasonable—but even I can hear the bitterness in my voice.

“I did what I had to,” he says. “Besides, it’s not as if you got hurt.”

“Of course,” I scoff. Why would I expect him to be even a little bit apologetic about his methods?

He frowns, looking irritated. “Do you always blame the people who try to help you? Or is that a recent development?”

I glare at him. People have been claiming to help me for years, when they’ve also been lying to me, poisoning me, and keeping me captive out of some twisted idea of what was “best” for me. Maybe Leon’s just like everyone else.

“So you were doing it for my own good, then?” I say, shaking my head. “I’ve heard that before.”

As my meaning sinks in, his eyes widen.

“That’s not what—” He stops, taking a moment to collect himself. When he speaks again, his voice is calmer. “I just don’t understand why you’re always burying everything—holding it back. You wear a mask like you’d die if you had to expose your real feelings.”

“What’s the point?” I blurt out. “What’s the point of showing my real feelings? It’s not like they would change anything. No one cares how I feel.”

I take a step back, surprised by my own honesty. At Gallawing, I learned not to waste my time trying to show people what mattered to me—what I wanted. Because they’d never let me have it, no matter how hard I begged. It was exhausting. And worse, it could be dangerous when someone like Bede picked up on my vulnerable spots—things he could threaten to hurt or control me. Better to pack all those vulnerabilities away and leave nothing exposed.

And now this man is demanding I let it all out. Well, it’s not that easy.

“You’re being a stubborn idiot,” he says.

I gape at him, unable to believe his callousness.

“Maybe that mask used to keep you safe—shield you from getting hurt. But things have changed, and you’re hurting yourself more now by holding everything back.”

I know he has a point, but he’s making it sound like it’s my fault—that I did this to myself. I didn’t ask for any of this, I was just trying to survive. How dare he judge me?

“And I suppose you never hold anything back, right?” I say. “Hypocrite. You conveniently ‘forgot’ to tell me exactly why you hated my parents so much. I had to find that out from Alastor.”

He blinks at the sudden left turn. “That’s different. I was shielding you , not myself. I figured you wouldn’t want to hear about the blood on their hands when you were still convinced they were perfect.”

His words sting, and I take a step toward him. “I never thought they were perfect. No perfect people would leave their daughter in that house to rot for twenty-one years. I just wanted to find out something about them—anything to help me understand who they were. But you couldn’t even give me that. You were too busy blaming me for the sins of my parents.”

“That’s not true,” he says, but the flicker in his eyes tells me I’m close to the mark. I have him on the back foot now, and I round on him, bringing our faces as close as I can with our height difference.

“Don’t hold back ,” I taunt. “You think I’m like them, don’t you? That’s why you’ve been such an ass to me. Or maybe you’re just an ass to everyone.”

His mouth twitches, like he’s amused by my rant, which only aggravates me more. Our faces are inches apart, and the look in his eyes is worlds away from anger.

Unsettled, I move to step away, but his hand catches my waist.

“Oh believe me, I tried putting you in the same box as them,” he says. “But you made it too damn difficult. You kept crawling back out of it like the stubborn, infuriating woman you are.”

“ I’m stubborn?!” I say, but the rest of my retort dies when I notice he’s watching my lips in a way that can only be described as hungry. The anger I was feeling so strongly a moment ago morphs into something else…a tight knot of desire. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but I know this tension will only be broken—will only be satisfied —if he touches me.

I tilt my head up, looking him directly in his eyes, challenging him to take the next step. And he does.

The kiss is like getting caught up in a hurricane. I’m swept up in a whirlwind of sensation as his lips explore me, pushing my mouth open so his tongue can taste me better. I inhale him, breathing in his earthy, warm scent and letting it spill over me until I stop thinking completely, leaning into the hungry press of his mouth on mine.

His hands slide up my legs, taking my skirts with them, until I feel his palm running up my bare thigh, his fingers wrapping around it to urge my legs wider.

I hesitate. I’m not afraid—not of him. But what he makes me feel…it’s intense on a level I’ve never known before. Couplings with Kit were playful and fumbling, gentle and sweet. There was a light, shivery pleasure to them, but that didn’t go nearly as deeply as our friendship and trust.

What I feel for Leon certainly isn’t friendly, and I’m still not sure how far I can trust him. But I want him, hotter and harder than I’ve let myself want anything in years. Habit tells me to restrain myself, to retreat from my desire because surely it can only lead to disappointment. At the same time, though, there’s a part of me that sees the whole feast of life and pleasure and experiences laid out in front of me and refuses to settle for scraps any longer. And that part of me is getting louder.

Those gray eyes fix on mine. Leon lowers his hand from my leg, and I fall closer against him. I can feel the heat of his body through my clothes like we’re both on fire.

“Give in to your feelings, Ana. Don’t hold yourself back any longer. Not for me, but for you. You have to learn how to do that if you’re ever going to truly master your powers.”

I close my eyes, focusing on his words as they wash over me, trying to decide whether to trust them.

“You made yourself small so you could fit into that prison they stuck you in without suffocating. But that was never who you were meant to be. You’re not small. You’re not quiet. You have big thoughts and big feelings and big magic , if you’ll just open yourself up to it . So tell me, what’s it going to take for you to let yourself feel ?”

I release my lip. “Touch me, please,” I whisper.

His hands slide up under my butt, grazing dangerously close to the aching spot between my legs. Leon scoops me up, spinning us around and laying me down on the hay I was asleep on not so long ago.

I tense, unsure about how this is going to play out. It suddenly occurs to me this fae might have very different ideas about how this should go, especially one as strong and…large…as Leon.

My eyes fall to the bulge at the front of his pants, recalling how it felt pressed up against me. Something deep within my body gives a hungry pulse at the idea of taking all that inside me, but the rest of me is a lot more wary. Leon follows my gaze. Though his own eyes darken, he just smiles.

“Another time. Today is all for you , Ana.”

He settles between my legs, his hands skimming my skirts again, pushing them up as he lowers his head. I shove myself up on my elbows, confused.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He raises an eyebrow. “Haven’t you ever had a man taste you before?”

My body tingles when I understand what he means. No, Kit never did that .

I give a little shake of my head, and his expression softens.

“Trust me,” he says.

He slides his thumbs beneath the band of my underwear, and my breath hitches, his eyes meeting mine as he pulls them down my legs, discarding them.

“Relax,” he orders, but that’s impossible when every one of my nerves dances with anticipation. His large hands encircle my thighs, spreading them. I feel nervous, exposed. But then his head dips between my legs, and I slam a hand over my mouth to muffle my immediate gasp at the flood of arousal that courses through me. If I wasn’t already sprawled on the hay, my knees would have given way from the intensity.

His grip tightens, his fingers digging into my thighs. He traces the lines of me with the tip of his tongue, exploring the sensitive skin around my entrance. I need to get closer—need more—but when I try to push against the warm heat of his mouth, his fingers tighten to the point I know I’ll have bruises. I welcome them.

The ache inside me is intensifying with every second, building to a crescendo.

I never knew it could feel like this —like every inch of my body is consumed with sensation, driving all other thoughts from me. His exploration intensifies, until he’s feasting on me, sucking and licking. My body trembles beneath him, and I worry that I’ll combust before I come.

Then he slides his tongue inside me.

I give up trying to stay still and buck against him, dropping my hand from my mouth and releasing a mewling noise I’ve never heard myself make before.

“Oh gods ,” I moan.

He chuckles against me, the unexpected waft of hot breath and the gentle vibration nearly sending me over the edge.

“Forget the gods, Ana, they’ve never done this for you—made you feel this way.” He jerks me closer, offering another searing lick across my burning flesh. “If you’re going to scream, scream to me .”

Then he bites me. Not hard enough to break skin but the sudden sharp pain has me bowing my back as the intensity threatens to burn us both to ash.

My fingers tangle in his hair, latching on out of the desperate need for something to grip as he overwhelms me with waves of pleasure, his tongue lapping at my clit—worshipping it. His fingers slide into me. Two…no, three…making me feel so full that it teeters on the edge of too much. My body lights up as if I’m a lantern. Brighter than flames.

“Breathe, Ana,” he tells me and I gasp out a breath, surprised as my arousal continues to spiral up and up. He’s pumping his hand, faster and faster as my body trembles beneath him.

“ Leon .” I groan, because in this moment, I want this man to know exactly how good he’s making me feel. He hums with pleasure as I moan his name, the vibrations rumbling through me, coupled with his fingers, send me tumbling into oblivion.

I cry out as my orgasm rocks through me, stars bursting behind my eyelids while my body trembles against the hay. He continues to stroke me from the inside out, guiding me through it, until the crescendo wanes. When my muscles relax and my limbs still, he pulls back at last, pressing a kiss to the inside of my thigh before sitting up fully.

Our eyes meet, and I don’t know what to say, don’t want to say anything. A deep satisfaction settles in my stomach, and I don’t feel the need to question or analyze it right now.

“You can sleep here if you like,” he murmurs to me, and I nod, sinking down into the soft embrace of the hay. “I’ll come wake you in the morning.”

I’m not so drowsy that I don’t notice the hand he touches to my face, brushing back a piece of my hair before he rises.

* * *

LEON

Ana’s expression relaxes as sleep comes to her, all the stress lines melting away. She looks so tranquil, and I’m oddly pleased I had something to do with bringing her that peace. It wasn’t enough that she found her magic. She was still in danger of getting so caught up in her head that she lost it again. I had to show her there was another way, and now she looks more content than she has since we began this journey together.

What a selfless saint you are , Fairon’s voice mocks in my head.

Fine, I’m willing to admit I enjoyed myself plenty, seeing exactly how many of those delicious noises I could pull from her with nothing but my mouth and hand.

Maybe next time we’ll see what her pretty mouth can do…

There shouldn’t be a next time. You’ve already blurred too many lines.

But that’s ridiculous , I tell the voice of my brother. The lines were blurred the moment we met in that tavern. Everything that’s come after that has been shaped by that first meeting—by her attempted escape and the way I accidentally foiled it. Fate is the game the gods play with us, and it seems they’d already decided we were never going to be just one royal heir to another, with all the usual boundaries firmly in place.

“Did you get what you wanted?” Eryx grunts as I enter the farmhouse.

I stop short, my eyes going to Hyllus. If any of them knows what went on in that barn, it would be him. His aesteri ability allows him to draw in sounds from far away, meaning he can hear things no fae normally could.

But it’s the kind of ability that can really kill your curiosity. It only takes a few cases of overhearing things you never wanted to hear to learn to keep yourself to yourself. I’ve never known him to listen in just for the fun of it. When I look to him now, his face is blank, and I’m confident my privacy is intact.

“Yes. The training went well. She used her magic deliberately, and I think she’ll be able to do it again.”

“And he didn’t get burned to a crisp in the process.” Stratton claps Eryx on the back. “So you didn’t need to go worrying your head about our dear old captain.”

Eryx shrugs Stratton off with a withering look, but Stratton just laughs, well used to Eryx’s scowls.

“Nevertheless,” Phaia adds from her position against the far wall, “solari or not, she’s still a princess. And you still kidnapped her. Lest we forget, the king was concerned about Trova’s relationship with Filusia before we even began this mission.”

“Already said it,” Alastor pitches in under his breath as he polishes his sword.

I throw him a look. “And I already explained that my grandfather would want Morgana kept alive, which she wouldn’t have been for long if I’d left her there.”

“Certainly not once they learned she’s a solari,” Damia points out. “Would the Trovians even accept her as their ruler, or would they burn her as a heretic the first chance they got?”

I know it’s just Damia being Damia, but I can’t help but bristle at the callous way she talks about Ana.

“You of all people should understand there’s a difference between what the Temple wants and what Trova’s people will accept,” I say to her. She gives me a hard stare but doesn’t argue. “Let me worry about the princess.”

I turn to address the group. “The more important matter is that I gave you a job to do, and now one of you is going to tell me how wonderfully successful you were while Alastor and I have been busting our asses trying not to get arrested again.”

I’m met by five remorseful faces.

“That bad?” Alastor asks.

“We got a lot of the same answers from the healers in Elmere,” Stratton says unhappily. “They suggested things we’ve already tried, or…”

He trails off, not wanting to say it.

“Or they said there’s no cure at all,” I finish. The words taste like poison in my mouth. Of course it was just another dead end. I don’t know why I ever thought humans would have the answers I need. I suppose a drowning man will cling to anything.

“But there was something,” Damia says. “Two of them mentioned Hallowbane.”

Hallowbane. Trova’s city of sin. It sits to the north of Godom, just beyond the Temple’s reach, and it’s where all the unholy reprobates of the kingdom tend to congregate.

“There’s someone who can help us there?” I ask.

“They said it’s the place to find healers who’d be willing to bend the natural laws.”

“Is that really what we want?” asks Alastor.

“If that’s what it takes,” I answer, steel in my voice. “I don’t give a damn about natural laws. I care about finding someone who can deliver results.”

“If they’re anywhere, they’re in Hallowbane,” Eryx adds. “The dryad healers have their ancient laws, the humans their Temple’s rules. We need someone who’s prepared to look beyond both.”

“Then Hallowbane’s where we’ll go,” I say.

“Should we really be lingering in Trova?” Phaia asks. “You’re a wanted man now, captain. Shouldn’t you head straight to the border? Leave it to us to follow the Hallowbane lead.”

“I’m not leaving Trova without something to go back with,” I say firmly.

It’s not that I think I’m the best man for the job. I’m good with problems I can swing a sword at, not this tangled mess. But turning away before I have a solution feels like admitting defeat. And I will not admit defeat. Not with this. No matter what I have to do.

“But—”

“The conversation is over.” My soldiers nod, and I rise to find a room where I can get some sleep.

“Hyllus, take first watch,” I say. “Listen out for the barn, and tell me if the princess wakes. Tomorrow, we ride for Hallowbane…”

…and for the answer I so desperately need.