Chapter 41 #2
She glares at the horse. “Ridiculous creatures.”
With a final glance back at me with brows furrowed, Derian flicks a hand and we begin moving, horses maintaining a steady pace as we do. Derian and Caldren lead us from the front, Ulna and I ride in the middle, and Taric and Roland keep steady behind us. From beside me, Ulna chuckles.
I glance at her. “Are all Fae males so overbearing?”
She simply grins wryly at me. “Only some. It’s relatively new for him.”
Of course it is. Of course the Fae prince waited until I was in his kingdom before he started acting like a possessive, over-protective fool.
“Lucky me,” I mutter under my breath as we cross through the stone archway that marks the edges of the fortress.
I take a deep calming breath as we do, preparing myself to travel even deeper into Fae territory.
The ride to Springhallow takes us first alongside a river that sparkles under the afternoon sun, then through forests filled with towering oak trees, their leaves so full and vibrant that seeing the sun is nearly impossible.
By the end of our first day of travels, we reach the edge of the woods and stop to make camp for the night.
Derian and Caldren hunt rabbits for dinner, and Ulna creates a fire for us using her fire-wielding magic.
After a long day of travel, everyone is too exhausted to stay awake for long.
Tents are quickly pitched and goodnights are hurriedly said.
And despite the fact that my body is aching and my eyes are indeed burning with tiredness, I make my way to Derian’s tent and fuse my body to his until pleasure rocks me to sleep.
Too soon, the morning sun wakes us, and we’re back on the road to continue our travels.
By the time we’re midway through the second day, everyone is off balance.
Derian and Caldren maintain the pace in front of us, talking amongst themselves.
Behind me, Taric is clearly bored, his voice a never-ending droll of chatter in the back of my mind.
Ulna spent much of our first day speaking with me, but now lingers by her husband.
Roland trails on the end, content to watch the scenery.
And my thoughts are spiraling.
I can’t stop thinking about Tyla, worrying about how she’s doing and when she’ll arrive.
In the brief moments I stop thinking about my sister, I start feeling ridiculously conflicted about the Fae prince who trots along far enough ahead of me to give me space but close enough to reach me if he needs to.
Never mind the fact that I don’t need him to.
I neither want nor need his constant hovering.
Just because I let him share my bed on a few occasions doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change who I am or what I can do.
What I will do.
It won’t stop me from seeking out my vengeance the first chance I get.
The only question left is how exactly I’m going to do that.
Will I rely on the skill sets that have gotten me this far in life, or will that awful unnatural magic come erupting out of me against my will again?
I wish I could get rid of it as easily as I plan to get rid of Derian.
“Have you always been able to do the light thing?” Taric suddenly asks, pulling his horse up next to mine.
I ignore the pit that opens in my stomach and avoid his gaze. Kaia glances up at me but is quiet in my mind.
“No,” I mumble.
“Hmm,” he muses. He waits as if expecting me to continue.
I don’t. I have nothing I want to say further on this matter.
“That’s interesting, don’t you think? I wonder what triggered it.”
Blood pouring over me.
My eyes so swollen I could barely see.
Pain everywhere.
“Probably the possibility of imminent death.” I don’t bother to hide the harshness of my tone.
The memory of it is still so fresh. Too fresh for this conversation to be bearable. I can feel the Fae fire eating my arm off, the splitting pain in my ribs, the aching in my head. My pulse skitters and Derian turns around to glance at me as if he can somehow sense my unease.
I glower until he turns back around.
“Do you think you could blind someone with it?” Taric asks, scratching at the underside of his jaw.
Screaming echoes in my ears. I can see Seraphina blinking rapidly. Numbly, I glance down at my hands, almost expecting to see her blood there.
“That might be pretty handy if you can.”
No. It wouldn’t be handy. Nothing about that light is useful or natural or desirable.
I focus on my breathing. In and out. I force that air into my lungs and limbs, force it to keep myself calm. Force it to push down the rising panic.
“We should test that out sometime,” Taric continues.
We.
We should test it out.
There. Is. No. We.
“Taric,” Derian barks from the front. “Shut the fuck up.”
My attention snaps to him. He’s not even looking back at us, but he’s listening. Intervening. Defending me.
As if I’m his to defend.
Derian pulls his horse to a stream on the side of our path, instructing all of us to make a quick stop to water the horses. I’ve barely finished handing the reins of my horse to Ulna before I’m stomping away to a wooded area under the guise of relieving myself.
We should test it out.
Breathing heavily, I lean back against one of the trees and try to calm the surging irritation inside of me as I close my eyes and focus on the feeling of the gentle breeze across my skin.
We. We. We.
The word repeats itself over and over, an unwanted mantra in my head. An incessant reminder that from the second that light burst out of my fingers, the Fae started considering me one of them.
That light changed every part of my identity in their minds.
I can’t do this.
I can’t spend another night sleeping next to these creatures, who now treat me like I’m one of their own.
I’m not.
It doesn’t matter what magic pours out of me or what they say. The way Derian looks at me doesn’t matter either.
I am not their friend, and I am not a Fae.
“He didn’t mean any harm.”
I blink my eyes open to find Derian standing in front of me, hands in his pockets, eyes somehow both understanding and exasperated.
The others linger back by the horses, sending curious glances our way—even though they’ve obviously been instructed to stay back until Derian can calm me down, like I’m some ridiculously immature girl who needs a male to soothe me when my feelings have been hurt.
No, not just a male.
Derian.
Because they think he has some kind of claim on me.
He thinks he has some kind of claim over me.
My anger boils over.
“I do not need you to defend me,” I hiss, shoving him.
He stumbles back a few steps, but steadies himself and clears his throat. “That wasn’t very nice, Huntress.”
That name. That fucking name was born from those that feared me, and he uses it like it’s some cute little connection reserved for just the two of us. “And stop calling me that.”
“You’re upset.”
I smile sweetly at him. “Would you like a prize for your perceptiveness?”
Derian’s eyes heat, trailing down my body. “No thanks, you already owe me a prize from our last competition.”
My lips curl back. “Keep dreaming.”
“Do I need to?” he asks with a teasing smile and tilt of his head even as he keeps his distance from me. “You didn’t have any problem fulfilling my wishes last night. Or the night before, for that matter.”
It takes every ounce of my self-control not to lash out with my fists instead of my words.
But I can’t.
I push off the tree trunk, moving to walk past Derian, but his arm snakes out, fingers wrapping around my wrist to stop me.
“You can’t pretend you don’t know.”
I stare at that hand, at the place where it connects with my skin. I stare as his thumb traces lightly against my pulse. “Know what?”
“That you’re Fae, Huntyr.”
The sentence is like a bucket of ice being poured over me, drenching me from head to toe and leaving me without the ability to form coherent thoughts.
Oblivious to the effect his words have had on me, Derian continues on. “I spent years at Amberhull teaching the younglings to harness and control their magic. I can teach you too, if you’d like.”
I can’t look away from his hand on my wrist. Those fingers traced my spine last night.
I’d let him touch me in the most delicate of places.
I’d allowed myself to be so blinded by his beauty and the fleeting moments of kindness that he’d offered me that I’d let go of some of the hatred that had burrowed into my heart.
That hatred had a purpose, though. It had been born from a reality that I could never allow myself to forget. Even if the Fae responsible for my father’s death was my own mother, it was a Fae nonetheless.
They were monsters, one and all.
When I level my stare on him, his eyes flash, and I can only imagine the viciousness of rage that makes up my expression.
“If I am part Fae, I will go to my deathbed hating that part of myself. I don’t want you to teach me a damn thing about it.
Why would I want to harness something that makes me anything like your disgusting kind?
You’re bastards, every last one of you.”
Ripping my hand from his grasp, I make my way back to our group, throw myself onto my horse, and ignore the question in Kaia’s gaze.
Derian doesn’t say another word to me, but he’s obviously in a bad mood based on his tone. He barks at the others to get moving and begins to set a furious pace.