Page 23

Chapter 21

Morgana

G ods, do things look different in the light of day. Not Leon, of course. The Nightmare Prince is exactly the same obscenely handsome, gray-eyed fae I fought with yesterday. But in the shadows of the night and the privacy of the barn, it felt right doing other things with him.

Now that we’re back on our horses, heading to the border, I look back on what we did and wonder if I lost my mind. I keep feeling his eyes on me, but I can’t bring myself to meet them. Not when my mind keeps conjuring up graphic flashes of his mouth on me while I moan his name.

I try to focus on the scenery around me instead, letting it distract me from my unhelpful thoughts. We’re south of the Wirstones now, leaving the mountains behind, and I expect us to turn east toward the border. But about an hour into our journey, we hit a crossroads, and the fae unit keep riding straight, southward, rather than turning left.

“Is this a shortcut, like the mountains?” I ask Alastor when I ride up beside him.

He sighs, like I’ve just placed a large burden on him.

“No,” he says, not meeting my gaze.

“Then why aren’t we heading east?” I press.

“You’re not going to like it,” he says, instead of answering. I look to Leon, my annoyance mounting. I try to speed up to join him where he’s riding at the front of the unit, but I can’t get my pony to move fast enough to catch him up, no matter how many times I nudge her with my heels. Finally, frustrated, I call out, “Leon!”

Half a dozen fae soldiers turn around to look at me. Leon brings his horse to a halt.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Why aren’t we going east?” I demand.

“We will, eventually. But we have business in Hallowbane first.”

My jaw drops at the mention of the city. “Why on earth would we be going there? And when were you going to tell me?” I can feel the fae around me throwing looks to each other, but I ignore them. After all, none of them had their hands up my skirt last night—this is between me and their captain.

“The business we have there doesn’t concern you,” Leon says with a shrug.

“You liar,” I hurl at him. “You said we were going straight to the border. You said once we were there, you’d release me.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Plans change. This is just a detour,” he says.

“Oh, well that’s fine then,” I say, in a tone so loaded with sarcasm I can see Stratton trying to hide a smile. Good, let him enjoy watching his precious prince get raked over the coals. “It’s not like I need my freedom anytime soon. I’m only on the run from half the fucking country who think I’m a murderer, and in hiding from the other half who think I’m a gods-damned heretic!”

I maneuver my pony back around. It doesn’t go as smoothly as I’d like, but I’m able to turn my back on him and return to the rear of the group. I hear Damia speak to Phaia as I pass.

“I’ve never heard a princess talk like that before,” she snickers. I pull my chin up, addressing her.

“They must not make very good royals where you’re from,” I say pointedly, looking back at Leon. “Very disappointing, I’d imagine.”

None of the fae mind me insulting their leader, and some of them chuckle until Leon growls at them. Actually growls. We continue on in silence for a while. The lack of chatter doesn’t help my mood. I fume for the next few hours over Leon breaking his promises to me, especially when he was so eager to get to the border a few days ago. He didn’t ever bother to tell me. He just did it, without a thought about me.

And why should he think of you? You’re just his hostage, after all.

I don’t want to hear those thoughts, no matter how right they may be. They make me feel like a fool—especially when I remember what we shared the night before.

Nothing. We shared nothing. Some friction, some sensation—nothing more. Nothing that matters, clearly. Nothing that makes me matter to him as anything more than a chess piece he can move across the board as he pleases. I know there’s more to the fae soldiers being in the country than their visit to my parents’, something to do with wherever Leon’s unit disappeared off to, but he’s not likely to tell me anything about that either.

He is, however, quick to approach me when we stop for food. I’m making sure my pony has a nice bit of grass to graze on when I hear his voice behind me.

“We should train again,” he says—a statement rather than a question. Is that because he can guess what my response will be?

“I think we covered the important stuff,” I say, not looking up from my horse.

“You’re so sure you can conjure your magic at will?” he asks.

I step away from the pony so as not to startle it, moving closer to a tree. Then I lift my hands and let myself feel .

Anger and betrayal are close to the surface, so I latch onto both, and the power comes quickly. My blood heats, the warmth pooling in my chest with a golden glow, and I concentrate on running the power down my arms and into my palms. Two beams, bright as the sun, leap from my hands, merging into one powerful stream of light that burns a neat hole through the tree—without touching anything else.

I look over at Leon, not bothering to hide my satisfaction.

“I practiced this morning in the barn. You’ll see it’s far more controlled than when I destroyed the trees before.”

Of course, I owe that to Leon’s help. But I’m not in the mood to shower him with gratitude.

“That’s good,” he says, and sounds sincere. “But there’s still more to learn. You want to be able to defend yourself, right? That means learning how to use your magic effectively in combat.”

He’s right, I do want to learn that, but not from Leon. I don’t want to be around him right now.

“I don’t need your sensic power to train me anymore, right?” I say lightly. “I can practice with someone else. Maybe Alastor?—”

“That was pretty impressive, Your Highness.” I turn to see Stratton grinning at me.

I raise an eyebrow at his familiar tone. “You think?”

“It’s always a privilege to see a solari in action, but…” he trails off, like he wishes to be polite. His mischievous smile, however, tells me otherwise.

I cross my arms. “But?”

“But it wasn’t exactly like a real battle, was it? The tree didn’t put up much of a fight.”

His blue eyes sparkle at me, but I feel nothing except curiosity. He has a point, and I am looking for lessons from someone other than Leon.

“And where do you propose I find a better opponent?” I say.

“I volunteer myself—just to show you some moves,” he says. “I’ve been told I’m an excellent teacher.”

“Stratton,” Leon says. That note of warning is back in his voice again, and the muscles in Leon’s jaw clench tightly. He doesn’t like the other fae’s suggestion.

Even better, but I school my features.

“Sounds good to me,” I say, walking over. “Where do we start?”

Stratton gestures toward a clearing a little way from the group.

“Don’t worry, captain,” he calls to Leon. “I won’t break her.”

I feel a small flare of pleasure at the stormy look Leon gives him in return.

Once we’re in the clearing, Stratton hands me a knife.

“All our swords are probably too heavy for you, so we’ll start with hand-to-hand stuff,” he says.

I nod, but want something cleared up before we begin.

“Why did you really offer to help me?” I ask. “I don’t believe you just wanted to annoy your captain.”

“Oh, I do that without trying,” Stratton says happily. “But in truth, Your Highness, it’s my duty.”

“It’s your duty to annoy Leon?” I ask.

“No.” He smiles. “It’s my duty to help you. You’re the heir to the Trovian throne, and Filusia has had a long and fruitful friendship with the Trovian monarchy. I’m honor-bound to serve my country by helping one of our most important allies.”

I smirk, wondering exactly how many people would describe this shameless flirt as honorable. But I accept his explanation with a nod.

“Now,” he says, circling me. “The fun begins.”

* * *

LEON

I try to look away from the clearing, try to join in the discussion with the rest of my soldiers or focus on the journey ahead of us. But no matter how hard I try, my eyes keep getting drawn back to Ana and Stratton.

They move smoothly through blocks and strikes. Stratton is more than just a handsome face—he wouldn’t be in my unit if he didn’t know his stuff—and he genuinely is a good teacher. More patient than me by far. I can see he’s prioritizing defensive moves, preparing her to face opponents with physical strength and speed she can’t match. Good.

I want her to get stronger. Gods know I’d feel less of a knot in my stomach all the livelong day whenever she’s out of my sight if I knew for certain she could protect herself. So why does watching them fill me with sour resentment? Is it really just because she picked him to train with, over me?

I push the possibility away. It’s too pathetic to entertain.

But I can’t deny that it doesn’t feel right, seeing another man so close to her. Not when I’m the one who was touching her last night—tasting her. When it was my name she was crying out.

She’s a quick study—or else someone has taught her some self-defense before—because she picks up the basics quickly. Soon, Stratton’s getting her to combine a few moves into a series of dodges and parries. He moves in close behind her, his body nearly pressed to hers. He wraps a hand around her wrist, gently adjusting its position, and bends his head to say something in her ear. She laughs.

Inside me, a feral beast rears its head, longing to throw my old friend and comrade straight across the clearing. Instead, I stand.

“I think that’s enough for now,” I call, striding toward them.

Stratton tilts his head, confused.

“But we only just got started.”

“ She only got started. You’re done.” I see the flash of irritation in her fierce eyes. “There’s still something you need from me, isn’t there?”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“You can call your sun power at will, but that’s not all your magic, is it? Where’s the orbital ability you used yesterday? Can you call on it now?”

Her jaw tightens, and I know I’ve guessed right.

“No,” she mutters.

“You can still only control half of your power. We need to locate the rest.”

I expect her to argue—maybe call me a few names like she did before. And I’d enjoy it, because even just having her anger directed at me is better than being ignored. But to my surprise, she immediately gives in.

“Fine,” she says, turning to Stratton. “Thank you. Maybe you can teach me some more another time.”

The beast inside me snarls at the idea, but it settles as Stratton bows his head and goes to join the others.

Ana turns to me with a shrug.

“I needed a nap anyway,” she says.

Ten minutes later, we’re in her mind. I don’t use my power to build the forest around us this time, allowing her own subconscious to lead. She brings us to the tavern where we first met, what feels like years ago. A fire crackles in the grate, and the smell of baking bread drifts from the kitchen door. It’s cozy and welcoming. The fact she brought us here and not the home she grew up in tells me so much.

“No forest?” she asks, looking around curiously.

“I think we need to try a different strategy,” I say. “Provoking you brought your sun power out, but if your orbital ability is still in hiding, it may need another approach.”

She looks skeptical. “So we won’t be fighting?”

“Not this time,” I say. I glance around, unable to keep my own curiosity in check. Seeing the tavern through her eyes, in her mind, lets me experience the way it makes her feel. Safety, comfort…longing. I blink, not expecting the strength of the last emotion.

“How often did you come here?”

“Almost every week,” she says.

“They let you visit?”

“Let? No.” She smiles, like she’s about to share a secret she’s proud of. “I found a way to sneak out. I’d never hang around the inn long. I couldn’t be seen by anyone who might let my guards know they’d seen me. But we’d stop by, in between playing in the fields.”

“We?” I ask.

“My friends. Tira, her brother Kit—their parents own the inn. And there were others. Village kids.” Her face twists with sadness, and I can tell how much she misses them. Now I know how she turned out so normal despite her imprisonment. She was stealing little pockets of reality wherever she could.

“So how are we going to find my orbital power if we’re not going to fight?”

I’ve already considered this.

“We’re going to search for something that has a ‘pull’ for you. Something that draws you strongly, just as you drew those objects to you in the tunnels.”

She looks unconvinced, but nods.

“Alright.”

She closes her eyes, and the inn disappears. Now we’re in the gardens of a big manor house, watching two little girls chasing each other. One, with chestnut hair and hazel eyes, is slower than the other. Her friend—with curly hair and freckles that remind me of the boy from the tavern—glances behind her. When she sees little Ana lagging, she slows her sprint to a jog.

“Don’t do that,” the small Ana complains, sounding masterfully indignant for an eight-year-old.

“Do what?” the curly-haired girl asks.

“Try to make it too easy for me. I know I’m not fast.”

The curly-haired girl turns and charges at her, knocking Ana to the ground, until the two are wrestling in the grass.

“I’m not making it easy for you, dirt-face,” the curly-haired girl says gleefully. “I just want to look you in the eye when I beat you.”

Little Ana laughs, then attacks her friend, tickling her until she surrenders.

The scene starts to replay. This must be the person Ana feels the strongest pull to—her best friend who she misses. I turn to the grown version of Ana, standing beside me.

“Focus on the feeling you get, thinking about her, and try to conjure your orbital magic,” I say.

Ana grows still, concentrating.

Nothing happens at first, the scene playing out in front of us unchanging. Ana closes her eyes, focusing harder.

And then I see it.

As Ana reaches for her power, the scene changes. The gardens start to subtly glow. Every element of it—every blade of grass, every flower petal—is alive with magic.

This entire place is filled to the brim with power.

I reach into her mind without her noticing, following the golden thread. There, beneath the gardens, is a huge well of celestial power, so deep I can’t reach the bottom of it, lurking hidden like a vast, fiery lake beneath a volcano.

“It’s not working,” she tuts, opening her eyes. I stare at her, trying to comprehend how this woman can be so powerful without knowing it.

“What?” she asks, putting her hands on her hips. “I said it’s not working. I’m trying, I swear. I can’t find it.”

I find my words instead. “Maybe the pull isn’t strong enough.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“If I could have anyone by my side right now, it would be Tira,” she says. “I don’t know what’s stronger than that.”

“Then perhaps it’s not immediate enough. It’s been a while since you’ve seen your friend. You miss her, but you’ve gotten used to her absence. Think of something you need more urgently.”

The scene changes again, to a memory of Ana as a teenager playing chess against a man with silver-flecked hair and kind eyes. She moves a piece, a look of satisfaction on her face.

“Checkmate,” the teenage Ana says.

The older man smiles proudly. “Bravo.”

“This isn’t working either,” she says with a sigh. “I can’t sense my orbital power at all.”

“Keep trying,” I say. “Search for that ‘pull.’ The draw you can’t resist—just like a planet being pulled into orbit. Don’t overthink it. Find the feeling and let your mind take you to the source.”

The figures in front of us dissolve, but another scene doesn’t immediately appear. Instead, for a few moments we’re in a kind of blank darkness. I’m still reeling from the thought of that pure, pulsing well of power. What could Ana do if she truly harnessed all that celestial power? Lost in my thoughts, I don’t pay too much attention to the new picture that formulates in front of us.

Until I do.

The scene shows Ana and me in a room, a huge bed in front of us. We’re naked, locked in an embrace. Her arms are wrapped around me, pulling herself up to my level for a hungry kiss. Meanwhile, my hands roam across her exquisite body. I wonder how accurate an image Ana has of herself, because the version of her I see now makes my mouth go dry and my pulse throb.

I watch, fascinated, as the scene plays out. This imagined version of me isn’t gentle or tender. I bend her over the bed face down, her perfect breasts skimming the silk sheets as my hands grab her pert ass. Watching this, I feel my cock harden, unable to tear my eyes away from this image of myself roughly taking her.

I knew she’d dreamed about me, but I’d imagined something far more chaste than this. She has a much more colorful mind than I could’ve hoped. It seems I’m not alone in fantasizing about all the things we could do together.

This is the pull she can’t deny. The draw her mind has taken her to.

And all I can think is how I want to make all her dreams come true.

“ Get out .”

A force like battering ram collides with me.

The delicious scene in front of me vanishes, like a flame extinguished. I’m not prepared for the mental attack, and with one vicious shove, I’m thrown fully clear of her unconsciousness.

I blink, abruptly back in the real world, with Ana asleep on the ground in front of me. I should be impressed by her natural mental defenses, but I’m too busy with other revelations.

Ana doesn’t sleep for much longer. I feel her wrenching herself from her nap with pure will, opening her eyes.

At first, she wears an expression of abject horror, her cheeks a tempting shade of pink as she considers what I saw. When her gaze lands on me, the glare is so hot I can feel it burning my eyeballs.

“Not. A. Word,” she says, each syllable a full sentence heavy with threat.

I offer her a smug smile and then walk away, the arousal she’s woken in me still coiling, unsated, in my gut.