Born To Rule

Chapter Twelve

The room did not differ from any inn I occupied in Calrund. There was an average-sized bed with a boring floral-pattern duvet, a bare wardrobe in the corner, and a desk that sat beneath the window. I warmed myself near the hearth, where the beginnings of a small fire crackled and spit.

When my soaked clothes felt more tolerable, I wandered over to peer out at the surrounding forest, but night had fallen. My disheveled reflection stared back at me, marred with the droplets of rain sliding down the glass. I pulled the ribbon out of my braid and ran my fingers through, smoothing the tangles as best I could.

The storm was still in full force. Thunder groaned, strong enough that its reverberations shook the walls. Lightning brandished the lush woods in light. My hands froze mid-stroke, and I straightened, a strange shape catching my attention. Was that a–

I shook my head, hoping to rid myself of the image I thought I saw amidst the trees. I leaned closer, squinting to distinguish the forest’s contrasting shadows. Lightning flashed again, and there it was. An immense black cat perched on a limb outside my window.

Darkness returned, and I glued my gaze on the single droplet of rain marking the place I was sure I’d seen it. Seconds later, when another flash struck, it was gone. I waited, focusing.

Another flash.

Nothing.

I loosed a long breath and backed away. Balis was out there with that beast. I turned toward the door, prepared to warn him, but that familiar voice of self-preservation halted me. If he got eaten by that creature, he couldn’t take me back.

My dinner spoiled in my gut at the thought, though. He was out there in the pouring rain with a prowling beast because of me—because he was respecting my space. I paced a tight circle, studying the wood grain floorboards, warring with my better judgment. To be torn apart was a horrid way to die—no one deserved that. I rounded on the door once more, only to stop again.

“Why do I care?” I hissed.

As if in answer, a log in the hearth snapped, spraying flecks of embers.

I owed him nothing. He was an obstacle, a hurdle that I needed to overcome. If he died, it would be Eurok’s fault for sending him after me.

No matter how hard I tried to convince myself it was safer to leave the druid to whatever fate the forest may decide, something inside me blustered with disagreement as forceful as the storm roaring against the rattling windowpanes. I can’t do it.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

With a forceful push, I shoved through the doorway and descended the stairs, berating myself for entertaining such a foolish idea.

As I passed the bar, I nabbed a glass beside a drunken patron, filled to the brim with dark liquor, then tossed it back without slowing my pace. I yanked open the inn’s old weathered door, revealing the pitch-blackness of the night’s howling storm. After pausing a beat to steel my nerves, I marched into it.

I cupped my hands to my mouth. “Balis!”

He hadn’t said where he planned to sleep. The stables were a safe bet. I started toward them.

“Mira?” he called from behind.

Soaked through, his shirt clung to every carved muscle, igniting a warmth low in my belly despite the cool rain. I had no business being this attracted to a stranger. A druid warrior—a lethal druid warrior. What the fuck am I doing out here? I swallowed hard and forced my eyes to his face, which did little to ebb the heat in my cheeks.

“Everything alright?” he asked with concern of his own.

“I–”

My words caught, and a harsh dose of reality tugged at my senses. It was ridiculous. Me, an insignificant human, worried about a druid, a mana-wielding force of nature.

He took a half-step toward me, his head cocked and brow pinched, waiting for me to give him some sort of explanation, or at least a whole sentence. “What is it?” he asked.

“I changed my mind,” I blurted.

“What?”

Exactly. What?

“I—changed my mind. You can sleep on the floor.”

My nails dug into my palms. I was sealing my fate and relinquishing any chance I had at sneaking away. But my stupid mouth already said it.

“Why?”

His confusion did nothing to relieve my wariness. Why?

My teeth clacked together as I fought off a shiver, unsure of what to say. My growing frustration blurred my thoughts, and the sight of that tattoo peeking through the wet fabric of his fucking shirt was not helping.

“Because you were willing to sleep out here.”

His eyes narrowed on me, asking more questions than I had answers to give.

“Look,” I hugged my arms across my middle, “just get inside the fucking inn.”

He ran a hand through his short, dark hair, sending sprays of rainwater in all directions, then gestured toward the building. “Alright, then. After you.”

I grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him inside, immediately relishing the warmth from the dining room’s roaring hearth. Passing that same man nodding off against the bar, I snatched the fresh shot beside him and downed it. This time, the bartender noticed and gave me an incredulous look.

I waved him off and continued up the stairs. “Put it on my tab,” I called over my shoulder.

“Do you have a tab?” Balis asked, following tight behind me.

“No.”

I pulled him into the room and pressed the door shut. He walked over to the hearth just as I had earlier, drinking in its warmth.

“I was worried it hadn’t worked from out there,” he said.

I plopped on the bed and peeled off my boots, wiping the muck off as best I could. “What hadn’t?”

“The fire.” He pointed at the flourishing flames. “I’ve never been much of a flame wielder.” When he faced me, his bright emerald eyes were undamped by the dim light. “Can’t be great at everything.”

I pressed my lips in a tight line, fighting a smile. “So what kind of wielder are you?” I stood, then pulled my rain-soaked shirt away from my body to let it fall and cling to my skin again. “Not air, by any chance?”

“As a matter of fact,” his long strides ate up the distance between us, “I’m more adept at earth forms, but air doesn’t give me much trouble.”

When his hand settled on the small of my waist, I froze. It could’ve been our rain-soaked skin, but the crisp scent of the forest flooded my senses—cedar with a hint of cinnamon.

“Hold your breath,” he said.

I did, and when a whirlwind ensued around us, my eyes fluttered shut. Behind closed lids, shadows deepened and flickered as the flames guttered in the hearth. The drapes flailed on their flimsy rods, snapping against the windowpane.

The gust hurled into me, rocking my balance, and I grasped his strong forearms to steady myself against the force. As the winds peaked, my clothes, from the airy fabric of my shirt to the wool of my socks, dried, becoming lighter over my body. My hair whipped, tendrils lashing my cheeks, and when I loosed my breath, the fast current carried it away. My hold on him tightened—then everything stopped.

“Much better,” he said.

I peeked through clenched eyes, seeing his amused smile.

“Can’t say I didn’t prefer the sight of you dripping wet, but at least you won’t ruin the rugs.”

My nose crinkled, and he chuckled, releasing me as my hold on him fell. The carefree, confident stride he took as he walked away invoked a thirst I hadn’t quenched in quite some time. My throat dried—it was no longer a need I felt like suppressing.

What the hell. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Balis Gailstrong.” A wisp of gravel slipped into my voice.

His witty grin curved the corner of his lip. “Oh good. I was worried I was being too subtle.”

“Subtle? I have a feeling that isn’t a word often used to describe you,” I said, turning my earlier words over on him. With my arms crossed, I leaned against the thick wooden bedpost at my back.

He strode closer, and my heart took off like a runaway horse. He braced his hand against the post above my head, then pushed strands of dark hair away from my eyes.

“Something tells me it’s not a word used to describe you either, princess.”

I did my best not to let him see how his proximity affected me, and kept a sardonic smirk glued to my face. “Subtlety rarely gets things done quickly.” I straightened, closing what little space remained between the druid and me. “And I tend to be very efficient.”

The flare of his green eyes inferred he intended to test that statement—I could’ve sworn he even flinched to do so, but the moment passed. Instead, he dropped his hand and retreated a step.

“Too bad.” He shrugged. “Captain Dramagan gave me explicit orders not to fuck you.”

An indignant scowl twisted my features. “Because that’s not weird.”

“Best not to complicate things, I guess.” He gripped my chin, tipping my face. “Or maybe he knew I’d fall for this winning personality.”

I jerked from his hold, embarrassment souring my mood. He backed up another step, eyes trained on me.

“Doesn’t seem to matter much when you’ll never see me again after tonight,” I said.

“Oh, if I believed that, princess, I’d already have you coming.” His smile was saccharine as he sank into the green-stuffed chair.

Unwilling to let him win this battle of wit we seemed to be having, I strolled closer, then braced my weight on the arms of his seat, and stood between his strong, thick thighs. “Fuck me, or don’t fuck me,” I whispered. “Either way, I am leaving tomorrow. And if you try to stop me, you’ll learn a word that is often used to describe me.”

“And what’s that?”

He dragged a confident, mocking hand up my thigh—but stopped when he felt my answer in the fine point of my dagger at his ribs.

“Lethal.”

His eyes danced with piqued interest, and he gave me a mirthful shove. I straightened, then sheathed my blade.

A few moments passed as I tidied the bed when he asked, “So daggers are your weapon of choice?”

“They kinda chose me.”

I removed the spare blanket and tossed it his way. He wasted no time draping it over himself.

“How so?” he asked.

I pulled out my blade. “I was nine when I stole this from a man my father worked for.”

“Why’d you steal it?”

The subtle concern in his features told me he knew the temperature of the answer he’d receive.

“So I could protect myself and my–” I stopped myself. “Just so I’d have something.” I set it on the nightstand and pulled my baldric over my head to hang on the bedpost.

His intense scrutiny tracked every pensive draw of my brows. “Protect yourself from who?”

“Everyone.”

His face fell a bit, but he nodded as if he understood. Maybe he did. I didn’t know a thing about him. Even so, there was an ease to the druid’s presence, like if he hadn’t been here to drag me back to his captain, I might have actually enjoyed his company.

“So, what about you?” I asked, pulling my pants off. His eyes fell over my body, but I pretended not to notice and climbed between the covers. “What is your weapon of choice?”

“Most of us in the mountain clan use an ax for close combat and a bow for long range. Between the two,” he scratched at his jaw, as if contemplating, “I prefer the ax.”

An image flashed through my mind—an armor-clad Balis wielding an ax with the same ease and skill I witnessed from Eurok. I gripped the bedsheets at my sides.

“Get some rest,” he said, gesturing with his chin for me to lie down.

I shimmied myself beneath the covers and yawned. The storm still raged, its endless downpour beating against the small window, and I closed my eyes, savoring the gentle crackle of the fire. Hopefully, that black creature I spotted in the trees would be long gone by the time I left in the morning.

“Can I ask you a question?” the druid asked, interrupting the thought.

Exhaustion slowed my response. “Mmhmm.”

“Why did you really change your mind?”

My eyes snapped open, and I lay there for a moment, questioning how honest I should be. “You were willing to sleep out there, if that’s what I wished.”

I pulled the blankets up, tucking them beneath my chin, and waited for his response. “Goodnight, princess,” he whispered.

“Goodnight,” I whispered back, surreptitiously retrieving my dagger from the bedside table and sliding it under my pillow. Just in case.

I sat up, noting the eerie silence. A soft silver glow flooded in from the window, and roosters crowed somewhere nearby. Early, but still later than I intended to wake. My eyes locked on the empty chair, the spare blanket neatly folded and draped over its back. He’s gone.

After all that bullshit he spun about not being easy to get rid of, he let me go? I released a sharp exhale and fought off the slight, entirely irrational sting of rejection. Fuck him. His loss.

After I readied Eiresh at the stables, I glanced around to ensure I was alone, then climbed in the saddle and urged the horse into a gallop. The air still held the dank smell of last night’s storm, and the rough roads leading away from the inn made it difficult to maintain a fast pace. I tugged the reins ‘til he slowed.

A moment passed and his ears pressed flat. Something unsettled him beyond the forest’s edge. I scanned the undergrowth for any sign of danger but could neither see nor hear anything aside from a small rustling beyond the treeline, which could have been any number of things.

“Easy, boy.” I tried to soothe him with a comforting pat on his sturdy shoulder, but the horse remained alert.

By the time the sun neared its apex, we reached a crossroads splitting in six directions. I chewed on my lip. The wooden signs listed several cities I never heard of, with no mention of Calrund or the Ebbonharrow River. With no fucking clue which direction to go, I decided south was still my best chance. I was bound to run into the river at some point. Since it served as a natural border between the human and magical provinces, I could follow it until I found a safe space to cross.

I directed Eiresh toward the southernmost road and squeezed him into motion.

There was a sudden snap of a twig and something darted from the trees, sending the horse lurching to the left. My heart threatened to burst from my ribcage. Eiresh pranced, then took off as I struggled to gain purchase in the saddle.

I dared a glance over my shoulder as we sped off, desperate to see what caused his panic. The black cat from last night stood dead center of that road I intended to follow. My stomach tightened.

Eiresh continued fleeing, water spraying around us as he tread through deep puddles. My eyes remained locked on the beast behind us.

It wasn’t chasing.

Once we were well enough away, I pulled back on Eiresh’s reins to slow him, and though he may not have agreed, he slowed to a walk.

I couldn’t recall the name listed on the sign, and there was no telling what direction this new road would take me. There was no chance I was turning back—getting stalked by an enormous predator was the last thing I needed.

Lost.

The word didn’t raise panic yet, but I felt it building. Stay focused. What do I know?

I knew I was somewhere south of Raven Ridge. Villages seemed to be fewer here, and there’d been no legible distances listed on those signs. The thick forest left no room to glimpse the northern mountain range and the sun, directly overhead, offered no clues either. A brief wait, however, would give me a definitive answer which direction to head, but to stop would mean giving that beast a chance to catch up.

I was a fucking idiot for refusing the druid’s offer to escort me to the border—foolish for thinking I could navigate such vast, unfamiliar territory.

With little choice, I halted Eiresh and watched for my shadow to appear, listening to the surrounding forest. There were no birds, no scurrying of small creatures. It was unnervingly silent. I zeroed in on the ground.

A twig snapped. Wait.

A deep growl, like the lightest of purrs, sounded from somewhere amongst the trees. It was out there. Eiresh stomped, jerking his head. Just a little longer. To the right—a low chuff and rustle of leaves. Wait.

I slowed my breath. Another hushed, prowling purr—there. My shadow emerged.

I yanked the reins, angling Eiresh south, then kicked him into motion. He erupted full speed into the treeline, away from the road.

What do I know?

A main trade route ran straight through the center of this enormous province from east to west, the same one my father worked on before he met my mother. I hadn’t crossed it yet. If I found it, I could hopefully shake the beast on my tail and gain my bearings.

I clenched my jaw, gripped the reins, and leaned forward, willing the horse to move as fast as he safely could. He seemed to do just that, as if he sensed my request.

I didn’t need to look back to know the cat was there, but I did anyway, finding those deep green, predatory eyes watching me evade him a second time. Tall ferns and undergrowth whipped and sliced my skin as we blew through the forest, but my attention was fixated on that creature.

Something didn’t sit right with me—how it hadn’t given chase, and seemed unbothered. A gnawing, cautionary notion consumed my thoughts. We weren’t fleeing a mere hungry animal.

I steeled my reeling mind and focused on our dash through the woods. That beast wasn’t my only concern. This province was as good as a hall of illusions. There was no telling what lurked behind any corner. That feline maw was just another danger to add to the growing list of reasons I had no business being here. I’m a damn fool.