Page 6 of Raven Rebel (Sablewood #1)

Meara

T he stag loomed impossibly vast. Meara knew without question it was the same creature she glimpsed that morning, wandering like an ancient deity of the forest. But this close to him, her consciousness was consumed by his presence as he towered above them.

His muzzle dipped, a bouquet of velvet daggers sweeping downward with the movement. Warm breath huffed from his snout.

Brenna’s grip tightened and her nails bit into the soft skin between Meara’s knuckles. She hardly noticed, entirely entranced by the intelligence in the beast’s eyes.

With a glimmer of russet light, the stag was gone and a male stood in his place.

His features were ethereal and refined, from the elegant slope of his nose to the taper of his ears. A wildness clung to him in the feral gleam in his eyes and the slender antlers rising from his shaggy chestnut hair.

Meara scrambled fully to her feet and jolted back a step, dragging Brenna with her. Leaves crackled under their feet, the sound jarring in the shocked silence. Her fingers closed over the hilt of her blade, drawing it from her pocket but holding it low, concealed within the folds of her skirt.

“That,” Brenna muttered, “is not a deer.”

Meara would have laughed, but fear strangled the air in her throat.

The faerie’s sensuous mouth curved into a sly smile, revealing a subtle point to his teeth.

Umber eyes flicked from their faces down to their boots and back.

Meara’s breath faltered as their gazes connected.

What must they look like to him? Disheveled, dirt-streaked, and wrapped in layers of restrictive clothing - nothing like the figure before them.

Breeches the color of oats hugged his waist and thighs.

His chest was bare save for a garnet cloak draped over his shoulders, framing an expanse of sun-bronzed skin taut over sinew and muscle.

As beautiful as he was, Meara couldn’t take her eyes off the antlers rising from his hair.

Her lips parted as her eyes traced the elegant arch of each wicked tine, sharp enough to kill.

The blade in her hand felt flimsy facing this living, breathing weapon.

“My ladies, are you in need of assistance?” His voice brushed over Meara’s skin like fine leather, smooth and warm.

Brenna moved beside her and cautiously lowered into a shallow curtsy, her face raised and eyes never leaving the faerie. “My lord, we are simply traveling to Dornadan. ”

Behind him, two horses materialized through the foliage. They were not the sturdy workhorses from Liosliath farms, but sleek equines with shimmering coats. Both bore riders dressed in light, flowing clothing.

A fae female slid from her silver dapple horse. She wore a gray dress without a chemise, exposing her toned arms and an expanse of her chest. Warm, dark hair slipped over her bare shoulders as she walked to the fae male’s side. Dark eyes assessed them as she delicately pressed a hand to her chest.

”They are the ones I sensed,” the female murmured. Tilting her head, she raised her voice to address them. “You are fleeing some danger. I could feel your distress.”

Chest aching, Meara inhaled slowly, pushing down her panic and trying to keep her voice steady. “How can you know that?”

“It is my magic.” The fae female said simply.

“Xurey is a puca,” the male explained, a fondness in his tone. “You are lucky she was in the area.”

Meara studied Xurey. Her soft expression seemed genuine, and there was a gentleness to her that whispered of safety. It was not enough to calm Meara’s racing heart, but she felt her panic ebb. She cleared her throat. “Thank you for your concern, but we must continue to meet our kin at Dornadan.”

“Why are you disguised?” The third figure dismounted and drew closer.

Hair the color of sunlit nasturtium flowers curled over his ears, concealing their shape, but there was no doubt about his heritage.

He was as fae as the first two with a delicate nose, dagger-sharp cheekbones, and a smattering of freckles over his creamy skin.

The antlered faerie frowned, a deep crease forming between his brows. “What do you mean?”

The flame-haired male folded his arms, squinting at the sisters. “I am fairly sure they are faeries with an illusion over them. Well, they may be only half-fae. I can’t tell for sure unless we strip away the enchantment.”

Sparks danced from Brenna’s wrists and down her hands, warming Meara’s fingers and betraying them both. Three sets of eyes honed in on the display of magic.

“See?” The second male held out a hand as if to say I told you so .

Meara raised her chin and stepped protectively in front of her sister. “We do not know where this magic comes from, but we are humans with a human mother.” She tasted the lie on her tongue, bitter and caustic. “Perhaps it is a curse.”

“Not a curse.” The newcomer tilted his head, his clever golden eyes glinting. “The spellcraft over your sister is already breaking. I see the same magic over you. I can remove it before it fractures completely and causes any backlash.”

Her mind stumbled over the idea. They had an illusion over them? That couldn’t be possible. There was nothing to hide. She took a step back, herding Brenna behind her. “I apologize, but we should continue on our way. Thank you for your concern, but we can handle it.”

“Wait,” the first fae male commanded, stepping forward. Broken sunlight shone across his antlers, illuminating them into polished ivory.

“Please, excuse us,” Meara said. Instincts urged her to flee to safety and protect her sister, but Brenna pressed back against her, wanting to stay.

“You are frightening them,” Xurey said, pushing past the males. She opened her hands and spoke softly as if she was soothing a wild creature. “We mean you no harm. My name is Xurey. I help travelers like you.”

“And I’m Tayen,” the second male said, giving them a charming smile, “and I happen to like humans.”

Meara measured their words. The fae were supposedly incapable of lying. Tales of their monstrous nature were woven into every bedtime story in Liosliath, but not so in Dornadan. She knew they lived beside humans, so perhaps these fae were of that sort.

“I’m Brenna, and this is Meara,” Brenna offered, breaking the tension.

“Brenna, why were you running?” Xurey asked.

Her sister drew in an audible breath. “The magic. It’s never happened before,” she began, nibbling at her bottom lip as she picked her words. “We live in Liosliath. I was protecting myself, and when my employer saw… this.” She held up their connected hands. “They called me fae and chased me.”

The antlered faerie stiffened, his eyes darkening as he met Meara’s gaze. “Then it is wise that you are traveling to Dornadan. No one there will attack you for being fae.”

“We can’t be faeries,” Meara protested.

“But you are,” Tayen said.

“I suggest you learn to control your magic, though. Even Dornadan will not be safe if you set things aflame,” the first male warned.

Meara watched the curve of his cupid’s bow as his lips moved.

Perhaps this was how faeries lured in prey.

They were painfully beautiful and it made it difficult to think.

Meara’s hand squeezed Brenna’s, trying to clear her mind of his beguiling influence.

“Like I said, we have someone we are meeting,” Meara insisted.

Brenna looked between Meara and Xurey, concern lining her eyes. “Our mother is back in Liosliath holding them off while we escape. She said she would meet us in Dornadan, but the villagers were so angry, I fear for her.”

Silence stretched, the faeries exchanging meaningful looks. The leader nodded. “Tayen will go to Liosliath and assist your mother. Did you have a meeting place planned?”

“The Silver Spectre Tavern,” Brenna answered before Meara could interject.

“Good.”

“You can’t go to Liosliath. They will kill you,” Meara said, turning to Tayen.

“Are you worried for me?” He chuckled. “They could try, but I assure you they cannot harm me. Besides, I will conceal that I am fae.” Meara frowned at his obviously inhuman eyes, too bright and unsettling, like molten gold.

“Bring her to the Silver Spectre so they may deliberate what to do,” the leader instructed. Tayen nodded.

“We will take you there,” Xurey said, “and then we can discuss your untrained magic craft.”

“No,” Meara blurted. “We aren’t going anywhere with you. We will be going on our own.”

The antlered fae male narrowed his eyes. “Why are you so unwilling to accept our help?”

Her hands clenched, her blade still tight in her fist. “Because you are strangers and fae. You could be stealing us away to be slaves or trick us into our deaths.”

With a startling grace, he stepped nearer. Meara held her position, her thoughts whirling as she assessed the distance, the angle, and where her blade would land if she struck, if he became aggressive. They would not be taken by the fae, not after escaping Liosliath.

His voice dropped, the tone rich and dark, sending a shiver down her spine.

“When a fae lord gives you his word that you will not be harmed, then you are safe. And that is what I am offering you. You are within the Autumn Court so it is within my power to do so. If, after you discuss the matter further tonight at the tavern, you wish to part ways, then so be it. But it would be a mistake to walk away now.”

Brenna bowed her head in submission. “Forgive us, my lord. We were taught to fear faeries, but I know you are telling the truth, and we would be grateful for your help.”

Meara gritted her teeth. They should be running the opposite direction, not accepting help from faeries. “What do you want in exchange for your help?”

She waited for the fae lord’s anger to blossom again, but instead his voice gentled. “If you are faeries raised by humans, then our realm owes you a debt. Consider this a partial repayment.”

Xurey watched him with a slight tilt to her head.

“Thank you. May we know your name?” Brenna asked.

“Cerne,” he answered simply.