The Princess
“The hell was that?” The first blacksmith shoved his tongs onto the shelf and stomped toward me.
“You got a critter in here?” Theron asked.
Sweat dripped down my neck as I carefully inched away from the table and toward Theron. I narrowly avoided colliding with the huge blacksmith who had come to investigate. He ducked his head under the table and looked around.
“Sounded bigger than a rodent,” Bran mused. “Maybe you brought some spirits from the mountain with ye, Harlan!” He chuckled again, but his eyes darted around nervously.
“Best be off then,” Theron said. “Don’t want to bring more trouble to this place.”
“Where did you say you were from?” asked the first blacksmith, straightening to glare at Theron with suspicion.
“Athawood Peaks,” Theron supplied.
“Come off it, Jed,” Bran chided, but Jed held up a hand to silence him as he looked Theron over.
“I mean, where are you from?” Jed persisted. “You born on that mountain?”
Theron forced a laugh. “’Course not. I’m from here. Travel often for my trade, is all.”
“Which trade would that be?” Jed crossed his arms over his massive chest.
Damn it. We were in trouble. Even Bran was squinting at Theron as if just realizing how little he knew about the man. Theron couldn’t lie, so there was little he could say to get out of the situation.
Making a calculated decision, I grabbed a chisel from the ground and hurled it toward the back door. It slammed against the wall, falling to the ground with a loud clang.
All three men jumped, and Theron shot an exasperated look my way.
“Shivering bones!” Bran hissed, jabbing a finger toward where I’d thrown the tool. “Somethin’ be there, brother. Best go look.”
“I’m not lookin’!” Jed argued, then pointed at Theron. “He must have done it.”
“It wasn’t me,” Theron objected. “I didn’t move a muscle.”
Jed’s brows knitted together.
“You think a soldier got in?” Theron asked, cocking his head in curiosity. “Maybe they be spying on you.”
Jed straightened, his eyes growing wide. With a low curse, he stomped toward the back door in several angry strides. “You bastards don’t want to mess with this forge no more!”
Bran was following him, wielding his hammer in the air.
“Move,” Theron hissed at me, and I obeyed. We hurried to the front door, and Theron threw it open. Just before we strode out into the cold air, I heard Bran shout, “I think I saw something move!”
I had my fingers wrapped around Theron’s arm as the icy air whipped around us. I breathed in, grateful for the relief from that sweltering heat.
But the relief died as soon as I saw the line of soldiers positioned outside the forge. And standing in front of them was Vikros. He wore a fresh tunic and seemed unharmed, which meant he had gotten his wound healed.
Perhaps the traitorous Lavinia had fixed him up.
I went rigid, but Theron squeezed my arm, reminding me we were trying to blend in. He had a pair of tongs in his hand and moved with firm, purposeful strides as if he had somewhere important to be.
A few soldiers glanced our way. Vikros’s eyes skated over me for a brief second. My heart jolted, my pulse roaring in my ears.
But his eyes traveled over me, returning to the soldier next to him as he murmured something I couldn’t hear.
I exhaled, but Theron tightened his grip on me. We weren’t safe just yet. My legs strained to keep up with his pace as we made our way down the road. In the distance, the sun was rising, bathing the town in a soft golden glow.
If we continued down this road, we would reach Stella’s home. But it also meant we were out in the open.
My head was swimming, the heat from the forge still lingering with me. I shook my head vigorously, trying to clear it.
“There’s a small wooded area around the corner,” Theron whispered to me. “If we can make it there, we’ll be safe.”
I nodded, but fog crept into my mind, clouding my thoughts. My feet shuffled to a stop, as I feared I would fall over. I swayed, suddenly dizzy. I crammed my eyes shut and took a deep breath.
“Eira?” Theron’s voice sounded far away.
Heat swelled in my veins, making me feel uncomfortably warm. I swallowed, my throat dry. “Blood and ice,” I muttered, my tongue tasting like sandpaper. “I really don’t feel well.”
Large hands came down on my shoulders, and I was grateful for the weight there to ground me. “Eira.” Theron’s voice was laced with urgency. “You have to keep walking. Just a little further.”
“Mmm.” I tried to move my feet, but they wouldn’t budge. How far were we from the soldiers? Were they watching us?
Move, Eira! I thought to myself. Move now!
I was struggling to draw breath. My vision blurred, and I swayed again.
Blood and ice, I was about to faint. And then the soldiers would come investigate. Vikros would recognize us.
Theron’s arm came around my waist, bringing my hip to his. With a grunt, he lifted me and continued shuffling forward with me at his side. I tried not to lean into his weight, but my head was so fuzzy.
I curled my hand into a fist, pressing my fingernail into my palm. The pressure point sent a bolt of clarity through my mind.
I eased my weight on my feet and off of Theron, hobbling forward as best as I could.
A few more steps.
I applied more pressure from my fingernail, digging into my skin.
Step. Step. Step.
The fog drew closer, threatening to suffocate me. I swallowed hard, trying not to vomit.
I dug my nail in hard enough to draw blood. But still, my clouded mind darkened.
“Almost there,” Theron muttered. He sounded a mile away. I had to strain to hear him.
The air shifted. Leaves crunched under my feet. Then, I was suddenly weightless. Theron’s wintry smell enveloped me as he carried me in his arms. I pressed my face to his chest, breathing in his comforting scent.
“We’re in the woods,” he murmured. “You’re safe, Eira.”
I tugged the black cloth free from my mouth, sucking in sharp gulps of air. It tasted cold and biting and fresh. For a moment, I thought I could think clearly again, the icy air soothing to my ash-filled lungs.
But then the heat overcame me, and I slumped against Theron’s chest. “I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Eira. Does Calista have your blood?”
I stilled, my eyelids fluttering open. “Y-Yes,” I whispered.
Theron’s face paled. “Shit.”
“But… she’s never been able… to call me before.” I was strangely winded, as if I’d run a mile.
“You were likely too far away when you were in Knockspur,” Theron said grimly. “She knows you’re close by, so she probably figured this was the perfect time to summon you.”
I shook my head as a strange taste filled my mouth. “This—This is different. Feels different. Look at my eyes. Are they black?” I tried blinking up at him, but my eyelids were suddenly so heavy.
Theron frowned, staring hard at me. After a moment, he said, “No. They’re still blue. But your cheeks look very red.” He pressed a hand to my forehead. “Damn, Eira. You’re burning up.”
“I don’t understand this,” I said numbly. “I—I don’t feel right. What’s happening to me?”
“When was the last time you ate?”
Shivering bones, I could barely remember my own name, let alone what I last ate. “Can’t… think.”
But Theron was staring at my upper arm, his eyes wide. My ripped tunic had slid upward when he’d lifted me. As I followed his gaze, I realized what was so shocking. A patch of sickly green spots marred the skin just below my shoulder. It seemed to surround the faint pink scar from—
My heart jolted in my chest.
The scar from when Calista poisoned me. It was the exact place where her claws had struck me. I’d done my best to hide the scar up until this point because I wanted to avoid any questions about it.
But now, the same spots that I saw in Calista’s hand mirror were visible to me, to Theron… to everyone.
“Eira,” Theron said, his breath shaky. “What is that?”
I vaguely recalled how Theron had burned up with a fever when the Demon Fae had poisoned him.
“This is where Calista cut me,” I whispered, my head spinning. “This is how she poisoned me.”
Theron was shaking his head now. “That’s impossible. Eira, if she cut you years ago, you would already be dead.”
My brow furrowed, and I closed my eyes. But it didn’t help.
I still felt dizzy, as if I were on a rickety boat in the middle of a massive storm.
“Distance,” I finally managed to say. “A-And apples. I need… an apple.” I couldn’t form the words.
Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to explain to him that the more I distanced myself from Calista, the less her poison affected me.
That, and the sparkwood apples helped keep the poison at bay. It had been a while since I’d eaten one.
“My bag,” I said tightly. “Please.”
“You don’t need a damn apple,” Theron snapped. “You need a healer.”
“I’m serious, Theron. The apples help.”
I felt him stiffen. “Wait. Are you serious?”
I uttered an impatient groan. Theron clutched me tighter with one hand, using his other to shuffle through my pack.
“Here.” He placed a cool apple in my palm. I immediately lifted it to my mouth and bit into it. It was ripe and delicious. The juice trickled down my throat, bringing a burst of flavor to the hazy dryness still lingering in my mouth.
“Mmm,” I hummed with satisfaction, letting my eyes close again. The fog in my head abated slightly. I took another small bite, savoring the sweetness of it.
“That’s why you urged me to eat an apple when I was injured,” Theron murmured, his voice sounding so close. As if his lips were right at my ear. I suppressed a shiver as that deep, rumbling timbre seemed to ripple right through me.
“Yes, you idiot,” I said. My head fell against his chest, but I didn’t care. “I was trying to help.”
Theron snorted. “You can’t blame me for thinking otherwise.”
I sighed sleepily. “You’re right. I can’t.”
We held still for another moment. I focused on my breathing as, bit by bit, clarity crept into my mind.
The feverish heat of my body gradually faded, and I no longer felt like the world was spinning.
I let myself rest against Theron’s chest while he held me.
I didn’t care that we were covered in soot and sweat.
I didn’t care that he was touching me, my skin now warm for a different reason.
I didn’t care that I probably needed to pull away before one of us did something we regretted.
At long last, I lifted my head to find him watching me, his eyes full of intensity and longing. The corners of his eyebrows were pinched in concern, as if he still worried I might faint.
I swallowed hard, trying not to feel awkward. “I…” I cleared my throat. “Um. Thanks. For helping me through that. You can put me down now.”
“Right.” Theron carefully set me on the ground, his hands remaining on my waist in case I fell. I blinked a few times, testing my weight with one step. Then another.
No dizziness. No fog.
Theron’s hands fell from my waist, and I instantly yearned for his heat once more. His touch gave me strength. It had been so comforting. Empowering, even. Like with him holding me, I could overcome any obstacle.
I took a moment to take in my surroundings. We stood in a tiny copse of trees with a blanket of snow and leaves at our feet. Through the thin, leafless branches, I could make out the main road that led to Stella’s house. That meant we were near the outskirts of Tolston.
“Between your sickness and my blood, it will be a miracle if we make it to the palace,” Theron said, his voice full of dry humor.
I shrugged one shoulder. “It’s okay. I can just stab you again.”
He snorted. “Bet you enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
I couldn’t lie, so I only grinned at him.
His expression sobered, and he lifted a hand to the patch of green spots just below my shoulder. His thumb grazed the faint pink scar, his touch feather-light. I closed my eyes, my skin pebbling with awareness from his gentle touch.
“I never got spots like this,” he said thoughtfully.
I opened my eyes to look at him. His jaw was tight, his lips thin. His brows drew together as a conflicted expression crossed his features.
“I don’t think the poison was in your system for long enough,” I said softly. “I did my research. Extensive doses of Demon Fae poison cause spots like this to appear all over one’s body.” My voice caught in my throat, and I took a shaky breath. “No one who had the spots ended up surviving.”
A muscle feathered in his jaw, and his nostrils flared. “You can’t give up, Eira. If you’ve survived this long, then maybe there’s still hope.”
I didn’t want to answer, because I was fairly certain there was no hope. I just had to survive long enough to see my plan through. If I could de-throne Calista and get my seven human nobles on the court, then I knew the kingdom would be in safe hands.
I forced a chuckle. “Careful, hunter. You’re starting to sound like you actually care.”
He offered me a wry smile. “Imagine that.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pack and handed it to me. When I frowned at him, he gestured to his own ash-stained cheek. “For the soot.”
I chuckled and wiped my face, then handed it to him. He did the same. When he lowered the cloth, I smirked at the smear of ash still staining his forehead. “Here.”
I drew closer, taking the cloth from his grip, and slowly dragged it over his forehead. I tried to ignore the heated look in his eyes, but my gaze was pulled to those onyx irises. They burned me. Inflamed me. Consumed me.
I kept my hand against his face for a moment longer than was necessary, unable to resist the pull of those eyes. My fingertips trailed over his brow. His jaw. I wanted to lean into him. To touch more of him.
My heart quivered, my throat knotting. With a shuddering breath, I stepped back and said in a strained voice, “Stella’s house isn’t far now.”
Theron nodded and cleared his throat. “Yes. We should keep moving.”
I offered a nervous smile and handed the cloth back to him. We set off through the woods, and I tried fruitlessly to steer my thoughts away from the strange, tender moment we’d just shared.