Page 17 of Raven Rebel (Sablewood #1)

Meara

M eara felt entirely out of place. She knew that her features were now fae, her skin flawless and her hair shimmering with a rainbow of colors in its inky strands, but she didn’t belong here.

The conversations buzzing around her made her anxious, so she cautiously sipped the fae wine, letting the pleasant bubble relax her.

By the time dinner ended, she felt lighter. As everyone scattered to continue their conversations, she drifted down the hall. Her fingers trailed over the millwork absently. Once she was on her feet, she felt too restless to return to their rooms.

Her sister wasn’t with her, and something in the back of her head worried for her, but Tayen had proven himself trustworthy. Brenna was enjoying herself and there was no reason to worry.

Meara wandered onto the veranda at the end of the hall.

Head blissfully empty and calm, she drifted toward the edge and rested her shoulder against an ornate post. The lake stretched below them, an expanse of navy and silver, fringed in ruddy foliage.

A great crescent moon hung low with its shining reflection rippling in the breeze that swept from the valley up to tease at Meara’s hair.

She took it into her lungs, enjoying the scents of frost and forest.

“Meara, I was hoping to see you.” The tall faerie from dinner glided across the space. Meara tensed. She had not heard her approach.

The stranger was sharper in the moonlight. Her black hair billowed around her, seeming to absorb all light. Wickedly curved nails glinted as she folded her hands across her stomach.

“I apologize, I am not up for a conversation,” Meara said, edging back.

Cold, onyx eyes met hers, and a slick of fear ran down her spine. There was no reason for her to fear this faerie. She was under Cerne’s protection and this was one of his subjects.

“Excuse me, I need to get back to my sister.”

The woman’s head tilted, the movement reminding her of a predator. Without her fae senses, she wouldn’t have noticed the bunching of the woman’s muscles, the forewarning of movement. Meara’s hand went to her skirts, but there was no place to hide a dagger in this flimsy dress.

The woman’s hand closed over her throat, pushing her back into the wooden pillar. “Just a taste. Your blood smelled so sweet,” she hissed. “So powerful.”

Meara’s hands scrambled to shove her away or claw at her, but the faerie used her other hand to grab her wrist and wrench it aside.

She had felt the bite of thorns before, even the slice of a knife in her skin, but fangs pricking the delicate skin of her neck was like being burned by ice. Sharp, fiery, arresting her muscles. A metallic scent bloomed. Her eyes looked past the woman’s flowing black hair and found no help.

The faerie pulled at her blood, and nausea gripped her, churning her stomach. Her vision blurred, stars spinning.

After a moment, she released her, and Meara slumped against the railing. A shriek echoed in her ears and a fierce, feminine voice shouted. She swayed, the voice screamed, and Meara fell.

Her back hit dirt, twigs and branches digging into her shoulders as her ass tumbled over her head, her jaw snapping shut with a jolt of pain.

Knees hit the dirt, and she slipped down the hillside.

The darkness threatened to swallow her entirely as she fought against her descent.

Her hands found a sapling she wrapped her arms around and halted her progress.

“Meara!” Brenna screamed. Light shone from the veranda, and Meara blinked up to see the silhouette of her sister climbing over the railing. A flash of copper hair grabbed her sister, hauling her away from the edge. Brenna’s hands waved, desperate in her attempt to reach her.

A figure with antlers rising from his head leapt past Brenna and landed in the brush with knees bent.

He balanced precariously as he slid through the fallen leaves and stopped a short ways above her.

One of Cerne’s hands held firm to a young oak tree as he stretched out the other and snagged Meara’s forearm.

With inhuman strength, he lifted her upward until she could grasp his shoulders and his arm snaked around her waist. She clung to him, burying her face into his fine woolen coat.

Her knees came up to bracket his hips, and he held her so tight against his side that she could feel his chest rising with steady breaths as he clamored up the embankment.

A few faeries watched as the Autumn Lord climbed over the railing and delivered Meara to her feet beside her sister. Brenna wiped at tears, her tawny skin pale.

Cerne ran a hand through his ruffled hair. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m uninjured,” Meara said, her voice a hoarse whisper. Her eyes scanned for danger and caught on the faerie who had attacked her. She stood by the door, glaring at them. The black dress she wore was smoking and one strap was burned away entirely. “Did you...?”

Brenna followed her gaze and nodded. Shame heated Meara’s cheeks. She was the protector, and yet her sweet sister had to use her volatile magic to defend her.

“You scared me,” Brenna murmured. Turning to Cerne who warily watched Meara, she snapped, “Why is that creature not under arrest?”

Cerne rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. “It is not unlawful for a dearg due to take blood. But you are under my protection. Therefore she owes me penance.” He met Brenna’s outraged glare. “Which I will exact per our laws.”

“So she can attack anyone she likes except anyone who is your special pet?” Meara said, her shock flowing into a cold anger. She wiped at her neck, her hand coming away bloody.

Cerne’s eyes flared, green burning to gold. “I would like a word with you privately.”

“Why don’t I walk you back to your rooms?” Tayen muttered, taking Brenna’s elbow.

She yanked free. “That was barbaric. You said this was a safe place and no monsters lived here.”

“Go to your rooms, Brenna. I need to speak with your sister.” Cerne’s voice was that of a fae lord, regal and measured, but Meara heard the rage rooted beneath and she was eager for it to bloom. She wanted to see him just as disheveled as she felt.

“Go, I’ll be there shortly,” she murmured. With a scoff, Brenna whirled and marched away. Tayen jogged after her, his words getting lost in the wind.

Wrapping her arms around her middle, Meara faced Cerne.

His jaw ticked. “You seemed so cautious. I never thought you’d wander off and get caught by the one person at that dinner who might harm you.”

Meara scowled when she saw the dearg due had vanished during their conversation. Cerne tracked her gaze and exhaled harshly.

“So you will do what, make her pay a fee? That’s hardly a fitting punishment when she defied the Lord of Autumn.” Her tone grew acerbic.

“You have no idea what I will do.” Cerne said, his words clipped. Meara took a step back, and Cerne advanced until her knees hit the bench and she sank onto the cushion.

His voice dropped, a lethal lullaby that sent her heart racing.

“What I would do. I could rip her apart with my bare hands,” he said, gripping the back of her seat as he loomed over her.

She inhaled sharply, unable to let the breath go until he finished speaking.

“For daring to touch someone under my protection.”

Her heart thrashed like a caged raven. Some dark part of her liked the idea of him taking revenge for her. As much as she feared the feral anger in his mossy eyes, that passion unfurled heat in her stomach.

“You are the Autumn Lord. Can you not do as you please?” she dared to whisper.

He raked his hand through the hair at the base of his antlers. With a dark chuckle, he straightened. “It would not fit the crime, unfortunately, and I am not a lord who breaks our laws for my own gain, no matter how strong my desires.”

Meara stood, finding herself nearer to him than she expected.

His pupils dilated before he looked away.

“She will have to give up something of value, not money. Perhaps her time in servitude, or heirlooms that can bring power to the less fortunate.” Cerne trailed off, and Meara found she didn’t truly care about the punishment.

“This wouldn’t have happened if I could defend myself here. Teach me to use my magic so I’m not helpless again.”

“I will try,” he murmured. Gingerly, he touched the tips of his fingers to her neck, circling the bite but never touching it. “We can start now, if you like.”

“You have to get back to your guests and I am exhausted,” she said, sucking in a shaky breath. The feel of his fingertips against her throat lingered. “My sister expects me.”

“Of course,” Cerne said. “I’ll walk you back.”

She wanted to tell him she didn’t need his help, but after he rescued her, it felt foolhardy. When he offered his arm, she took it. The fabric was warm under her chilled fingers.

Her voice stayed silent as they walked the long hall. The remainder of the guests had disappeared, and they reached her room without seeing anyone. He nodded and turned away.

The moment the door opened, Brenna seized her hand and led her to their washroom. Meara stared at the dark stained glass windows as her sister wiped away the blood. “It looks good, not really bleeding anymore. They were small holes.”

“Lucky, indeed,” Meara muttered darkly.

Brenna tossed the cloth into the sink and propped her hands on her hips. “You said we don’t know their customs or how to keep ourselves safe, and this proved it. So what do we do? We learn. Ask more questions. Figure out how to use our magic to keep us safe.”

Her breath came out in a broken chuckle. “I suppose you are right. Now let’s get out of these gowns. Mine will need laundering, I think.”

Meara was tugging her chemise over her head when a knock sounded at their door. She straightened the garment and looked for some sort of covering. The door creaked open and Kirrily called out, “Lady Brenna, Lady Meara?”

“Yes,” Brenna called, crossing the room to meet her.

“I heard you had some trouble. I thought some tea might help, and I wanted to see if you needed anything more.”

“Maybe something stronger,” Meara said, crossing her arms.

Kirrily smiled sweetly and pressed into the room, crossing the carpet and setting a tray on the small side table between the armchairs. She paused, looking Meara in the eyes. “Were you hurt?”

Her jaw clenched, a darkness in her veins when she thought of the evening’s events. “I was cornered and bit by a faerie of the court, and then told it was all fine and good except that she didn’t get Cerne’s permission!”

The leaves in her hair rustled as she nodded.

“I forget you were not raised fae, especially now that your true faces are revealed.” She paused, eyes roving over Meara’s features.

“It is our way, and what keeps us strong. A dearg due can take the blood they want from anyone who cannot defend themselves. So we learn to fight or stay with those who can protect us.”

“What about your weak or very young?” Brenna asked, her hands twisting together at her waist. “That seems wrong. ”

Kirrily shook her head. “There is honor. No one would take from a child in that way.”

“What would you do if she came after you?” Meara asked bluntly.

While she poured the tea, Kirrily pressed her lips together. After she handed a cup to Meara, she shrugged. “I am not so easily bit.” When Meara frowned, Kirrily ran a hand down her arm, and her skin shifted from its rough texture to something tougher, like actual tree bark.

“Isn’t that something,” Brenna said, huffing as she reached for a cup.

“I wouldn’t have strayed if I was aware of the danger. What else do we need to know?” Meara asked.

Kirrily twisted a tendril of vine from her hair around her finger. “I don’t know human culture. You should ask Tayen. He would know best.”

“Thank you, Kirrily. Would you have some tea with us?” Brenna asked.

The dryad dipped her head respectfully. “I must get back. There are plenty of guests about still. But no one will bother you after Lady Brenna’s display of power.”

“Thank you,” Brenna said, her eyes warm with affection.

Kirrily gave another shallow bow and slipped out of the room.

Meara considered shoving some furniture in front of the door, but nothing was suitable, and she supposed Kirrily was right - Brenna had proven she could defend them.

With a sigh, she sank into the second chair and cradled her forehead in her hands.

Her sister didn’t speak, knowing Meara needed time to untangle her emotions. Brenna would be here when she was ready. Finally, Meara raised her head and stared into the dying flames. “I have to access whatever magic I have. How else can I keep us safe?”