Page 61 of Raven Rebel (Sablewood #1)

Brenna

B renna pressed her hand and magic against a jagged cut in the stomach of a nymph. His pallid face relaxed as she knit the flesh together.

Dirt stung her eyes and sweat coated her neck, causing her unruly hair to stick to her skin. For the first time, she felt as if she was drawing upon the lowest depths of her magic and would soon run out. She wanted to collapse where she stood, but there were so many who needed her help.

As calls for surrender echoed through the battle, she paused to watch the troops separate. Relief coursed through her. The humans retreated, leaving a small group around their battered sovereigns.

Fae guards carried a sagging figure, yelling as they approached.

Galen ran to meet the group and began healing the victim as they continued to walk.

Silver armor was streaked with blood, and Brenna startled when she saw King Argyro clutching at his wrist. Her stomach churned when she saw his hand was fully severed.

She leapt back to clear space as Iyashi joined Galen in working to stop the profuse bleeding so they could heal him.

Iyashi called for rags and Brenna ran to fetch them.

Time blurred together as they worked and she assisted.

The idea of helping with medical care had lost its charm and Brenna felt a twisted sorrow that turned her stomach.

When the guards transported Argyro and Galen away, she nearly dropped to the ground. It would be ages until they could join them, for many faeries needed healing before they could be transported.

Tayen lay across one of the cots with his eyes closed and Ayala knelt beside him. Brenna pressed her fingers to his forehead as she pushed healing energy into the jagged cut along his hairline. With a gasp, he awoke. “Eladin!”

Ayala gripped his hand. “He is fine.”

“They were going to kill him,” Tayen argued, his golden eyes wild.

Brenna smoothed his hair. “It’s over. He’s alive.”

“I have to see him,” Tayen said, bending and pushing to his feet. Brenna steadied him, supporting some of his weight as he staggered forward. Ayala scowled but took his other side.

The human rulers sat upon their mounts with the reins held by fae guards.

Emrys stood before them, directing forces between the human troops and the faeries preparing to travel back to Court Tara.

With a slicing gesture of his hand, Emrys ordered the captives forward and swung his own horse around to face Court Tara.

In the back of the line, Eladin slumped in his seat, dried tears cutting lines through the dirt and charcoal on his face.

Otherwise, he seemed unharmed. Tayen stiffened as he watched his love ride past him.

“Now that you’ve seen proof, you must rest,” Ayala insisted.

A broad, blond faerie strode through the trees holding a female with flowing iridescent black hair in his arms. Brenna gave a startled gasp and rushed forward, leaving Ayala to support her brother as he hobbled back to his cot.

Luce frowned down at Meara in his arms. Her pale skin was ice and her lashes fluttered as she fought for consciousness and lost. Brenna brushed her hair away from her face.

“Brenna, we are leaving for Court Tara!” Iyashi called.

Luce cleared his throat. “I will carry her. She drained her magic, but she is uninjured, I believe.”

“Thank you,” Brenna said, reluctant to leave her sister. But as Iyashi called for her again, she tore herself away.

Their injured were placed on horses or, for the worst of them, in the cart.

The journey back to Court Tara was tedious and painful.

Brenna gritted her teeth and endured, because many around her were gravely injured and she was simply exhausted and drained.

Once they arrived, she stopped long enough to wash the worst of the grime from her face and arms, as well as drink water and eat a slice of thick bread to refuel her magic.

Then she resumed working to help the injured.

Meara was placed in a spare alcove in the healing ward. Brenna glanced her way as she worked.

She leapt when a hand touched her shoulder. Iyashi frowned at her and tipped her head toward Meara. “Go to your sister. You will drain yourself and end up by her side anyway if you keep going like this.”

“Thank you,” she said, allowing Iyashi to take her place. Wiping her hands on her apron, she jogged over to Meara’s slender form stretched out on the cot.

Violet eyes blinked up at her. “Brenna?”

“You idiot!” Brenna smacked her arm lightly and brushed away the tears forming. “Don’t ever fly off like that again.”

“I’m sorry,” Meara said. Her voice was raw and dry, as if she had been screaming.

“What were you even doing?”

Her sister bit her lip and looked away, clearly hesitant to share.

Brenna pushed forward. “They said you were staying with Mother. How did you end up in battle?”

Heavy footsteps interrupted them. Herrick loomed in the arched entrance, the lamplight turning his scales a sickly shade of olive. Cerne and Emrys flanked him. Emrys wore a clean black shirt and vest.

Brenna rose, standing in front of her weakened sister as she watched the three fae males approach. Emrys’ mouth tightened as he regarded her, and she gritted her teeth and gripped the edge of the raised cot Meara lay across. She glanced at Cerne. His expression was shuttered.

“Step aside,” Herrick ordered.

Brenna hesitated, but Emrys held out his hand and she took it, allowing him to guide her to his side and curl his arm around her shoulders. His embrace comforted her as she watched the army commander step nearer to Meara.

“Meara, you are under arrest for treason.”

Her sister jerked away, trying to sit up, but Herrick grabbed her arm and halted her.

“Stop!” Brenna hissed. Emrys gripped her tighter, preventing her from helping her sister. “Let me go! ”

He held firm and made a soothing noise against her hair. “Everything will be well in the end, but you can’t stop her arrest.”

“What did she supposedly do?” Brenna snapped, glaring at Herrick. The drake commander was unmoved by her anger.

Cerne stepped forward, his hands anxiously tugging at his cuffed shirt. “Meara marched with the human army and used her shadow magic against the fae.”

“No,” Brenna said, her voice dropping out.

Emrys held her against his chest. “I will take care of it.”

She turned her head to watch Herrick and Cerne haul Meara up and walk her out of the healing ward.

Sagging against Emrys, she let him stroke her hair and whisper reassurances. “Come with me, you need rest.”

“I should help,” she protested.

“You’ve done enough, and more healers are on their way to help. It’s time for you to rest and besides, we need to discuss your sister.”

Nodding grimly, Brenna untied her apron and dropped it in the laundry before following Emrys out of the healing ward.

“Where are they taking her?” she asked as he led her down the hall.

“She’ll be locked in a spare bedroom for now. I made it clear to Herrick she was not to be jailed.”

She pressed her hand to her chest, rubbing at the ache there.

The path between the healing ward and their rooms was familiar enough she barely noticed their progress until Emrys pushed the door to her beautiful suite open. Starlight bathed the space in gray-blue light. Numbly, she followed him inside.

“I have a plan for Meara. She won’t be imprisoned for very long. But first, we need to take care of you. ”

Brenna was too tired to argue or fight for more information. Emrys had never failed her. She tamely followed his gentle prodding as he drew a bath and returned to undress her.

“You were incredible,” he murmured, unbuttoning her work dress.

She sighed deeply as he pressed a kiss to her neck before tugging the fabric off her shoulders.

He stripped her bare and carried her into the bathing room and sat her in the tub.

Candles flickered along the window ledge, providing light now that night had fallen.

Steaming water melted her tired muscles and she leaned back against the side of the tub.

Ignoring the water soaking into the edge of his rolled sleeves, Emrys washed her arms, shoulders, and back. She would have loved to have wasted hours soaking, but concern for Meara pushed her to finish washing up and climb out. Emrys held out a plush robe that she slipped on.

“I feel much better now, thank you,” she said with a tired smile.

“Eat and we can talk.”

A tray of salted meat and fruit waited by the hearth, and Brenna popped a grape in her mouth as she sank into the armchair. She drew her legs up and hugged her knees.

“I can’t believe Meara fought against the faerie.” She chewed her food, considering. “I understand her wanting to defend the humans. We grew up with them,” she mused, sipping the tea Emrys poured for her.

“She made her choices, but we can help shield her from the full weight of those consequences if you wish to,” he said solemnly.

“Of course I want to. I can’t let my sister be branded a traitor and, what? Exiled? Imprisoned?”

Emrys rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “It would be Argyro’s and Araluen’s decision, typically. But considering the circumstances…”

“What?”

“Argyro can no longer rule,” he said simply.

Brenna blinked at him for a moment, comprehension slow to form. “Why?”

“Our law states that a king or queen must be whole in body and mind. He cannot rule without his hand. It limits his ability to wield magic.”

Her brows furrowed and she sat back in her chair. “So what does that mean? Does he have an heir?”

Emrys folded his hands on his knee. “He does not.” His gaze trailed down her body and she cocked her head, waiting for the rest of his thought.

“Even if he did, it would not mean the heir would inherit. The high king and queen must always be a wedded pair that can share their magic craft to prove their bond.”

“I thought the fae did not often marry,” she said, setting her cup down.

“True, though it does happen. More often for political gain, which is why the couple must also magic share to prove their relationship is genuine.”

“That makes sense.” Her voice trailed off as his intense gaze snagged her. “What?”

“I want you to marry me, we can claim the throne.”

Brenna’s thoughts sputtered out and she gaped at him. “I can’t be a queen,” she stammered.

“You can. Together, we are eligible.” He leaned forward and took her hand, stroking along the inside of her fingertips. “We can bring peace and pardon Meara for her treason.”

“I,” she started, the thought dying on her tongue. “Can I think about it?”

“My light, this isn’t how I thought to propose, but we do not have time to spare. Discussions of the throne will begin soon.”

“Give me a moment,” she said, rising and striding to the window. Pulling the robe tight, she stared over the winding river. The moon’s reflection rippled as the water moved.

If she married Emrys, she would be secure in his affection. She would have status. If she was crowned queen, she would have a purpose and a role, security, and power.

The idea terrified her, but Emrys had been second to the King for years. He knew how to manage the faerie courts. She would learn and help however she could. If she said no, he would be unable to claim the throne and fulfill this role she felt he was destined for.

Turning back to Emrys where he sat patiently, she asked, “If the throne was not available, would you still want to marry me?”

Rising, he moved with dark grace to her side, tipping her chin up and staring into her eyes. His crimson irises flared with heat. “Yes. I’ve thought of little else.”

“Okay,” she breathed. They stayed frozen, his patient gaze waiting for her to elaborate. “I will marry you.”

Emrys kissed her, cradling her jaw in his hands, until she was breathless. “I want to take you to bed,” he whispered, “but my desires will have to wait.”

She smiled, the reality of their betrothal sinking in. “So when would we wed?”

“Immediately. It must happen before we can be crowned,” he said. Releasing her, he crossed to the wardrobe and pulled out a dress she didn’t recognize.

“Did you order another gown for me?” she said, cocking her head.

“Yes. One fine enough for a wedding.”

As he held it up and the lamplight washed over it, gemstones sparkled and gold thread gleamed. Brenna pressed her hands to her lips as tears ran down her cheeks. It was such a silly thing to cry over after all the violence she had seen, but she simply had nothing left.

Sniffling, she ran her fingers over the garment. Flames of ruffled fabric ran up the dress, meeting with jeweled beading over the bust.

Emrys draped the dress across her bed and pulled her against his chest. “My Fire Queen.”

Brenna stepped into the throne room on Emrys' arm. Hundreds of eyes were drawn to them. He was a polished obsidian blade, and her a walking inferno. She left her hair flowing down her back in the fae fashion, only tucking it behind her tapered ears, now adorned with gold and diamond cuffs.

Emrys leaned close and whispered, “Looks like we are here in time.” His smirk sent prickles of heat through her. This male was to be her husband, and they would rule side by side.