Chapter 18
Max
Ripping covers from my body, I sit up with a shriek, cold air chilling my bones. Taylay stands there, smiling, my rough sewn blanket in one hand, my daggers and belt in the other.
He tosses them on to my lap, the weight knocking the breath from my lungs.
“Good. You’re awake.”
“Are you fucking serious?” I ask, tossing the belt to the side as I roll over. Forget the blanket, I’ll deal without it. “It’s still dark out.”
Tsking, Tay steps close, tugging the hay stuffed pillow from under my head as I growl.
Glancing up, he has the decency to smirk.
Smirk.
“Taylay,” I say quietly, throat dry, scar aggravating my neck.
“Yes?”
“Are you trying to end up dead before your bonding?” One eye twitches. “I really don’t want to hurt Cully by killing his true love, but I swear to whatever God is listening, you’re pushing it. Give me back my blanket and pillow and walk away. Slowly.”
“You know,” he begins, dropping my daggers back into my lap. “It’s well past dawn. This close to the forest, the daylight doesn’t shine on us.”
“Then how do you know?”
He taps his mind. “Blackwoods Coven Witches rise with the dawn. Now,” he taps my nose and I swat at him, annoyed. “We’ve slacked on your training. I figured with all the travel, being around all these people with no reprieve, you might need some exertion to help the control.”
He, his mother and sister were under the impression that physical activity would tire my magic out. If my body was exhausted, my mind would be and therefore the evil magic in my blood.
It didn’t work like that. Sometimes, I was too tired to fight the control and stayed in my hut, sleeping it off. Maybe that was their ultimate plan—force me into unconsciousness and therefore everyone would be safe.
“And who knows when we find the army?” He shrugs, holding the flap as he leaves. “If you hurry, I’ll make you that chicory beverage you’re so fond of in the morning.”
The tent closes with an audible snap, and I bellow, “On Cella’s fucking crown!”
Grabbing my cloak and tightening my boots, I hustle out of the tent, failing to fasten the belt around my middle. I could deny Tay but after our little bicker yesterday, I’d rather be on good terms.
It took hours to fall asleep last night from the thumping hearts and jovial laughs. Maybe parrying with my daggers would tired me out enough for a nap before we continue on?
Barreling into the clearing, my magic starts, the few bodies moving enough to pull on my control. I wince, hand to my head, holding back the urge to grab their blood.
My mouth waters as I close my eyes, steeling my shields. Dammit, it’s strong today. Inhaling, I push back the urge to vomit and count my breaths.
“Easy, kitten,” the heir teases over me. Opening my eyes, I see him leaning against a tree, hidden in the shadows, a smirk on his lip. “Not a morning person, I see.”
Those lips look devilishly soft. Almost kissable.
Jolting, I slap a hand to my eyes, cursing myself mentally. Nope. That’s not going to be a thought right now. That Fae holds my fate in his hands and to even consider kissing him is incomprehensible.
Gods above, what is happening to me?
“Why are you here?” My nails rake my thick strands back into a quick braid. “Aren’t Dark Fae allergic to sunlight or something?”
He chuckles, stepping fully into the firelight.
I bite back a moan. It’s not fair how handsome he looks. The darkness becomes him, molding to him like an old friend.
Comparatively, I’m positive I look like a wagon hit me, and left me for dead.
“We’re not in the daylight.” He steps closer and instinctively, I step back. “But yes, Dark Fae cannot tolerate sunlight. The royal family, on the other hand, has no such restrictions.”
Figures.
He steps close again, tunic brushing mine, smokey campfire scent wrapping around my throat like a noose.
“Where are you going so early?”
Holding up my belt, I finally slip it around my hips. “Training.”
His amber eyes harden. “Remember the rules.”
Waving him off, I shake my head. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t go anywhere alone. I won’t be. Taylay is training me.”
I move away as he grabs my elbow. “The Witch is no warrior. What does he hope to teach you?”
Tugging on my arm, I glare when he doesn’t release me. “Not that it’s your business, but it’s to help me.”
“Help?” He prods. “How would someone ineffective in combat, teaching you to fight, help you? It would rather get you killed.”
Finally, I jerk my arm away and he looks displeased as I move further back.
“Listen,” I snap, poking his chest. “We both know what I can do.” I lower my voice, praying no one else hears. “He thinks by tiring me out, it’ll help my control.”
He tilts his head. I hate how primal he looks. “It won’t work.”
Biting my lip, I glance away. “If he think—”
He grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Our magic doesn’t work like that,” he breathes, words soft.
“It doesn’t rely on our strength. It is a being all on its own, with its own triggers and capabilities.
From what I’ve seen of you, kitten, your power is not something you can control with simple drills. ”
Something akin to relief washes over me. It’s oddly soothing to speak to someone about my magic, about what helps and doesn’t.
It’s nice to feel understood.
But he’s a Dark Fae. They’re not to be trusted.
Shaking my head, I whip away from his grip. “Don’t touch me again.”
He smirks, a fang dropping over one lip. “I’m pretty sure there will be a day—very soon, in which you’ll practically beg for it.”
Flipping him off, I meet Tay across the clearing to a community table, my chicory beverage and ewe’s milk already warmed in his hands.
He glares over my shoulder at the departing heir, mouth tight. “What was that about?”
“Nothing,” I lie, taking the cup. “Ready?”
Nodding, he directs me to the side where a small footpath takes us further into the woods. Inside, the forest eats up light, only our footsteps the only noise around us.
“Is this safe?” I ask, finishing my drink.
My friend shrugs. “Nothing about what we’re doing is safe. But the Dark Fae said to stay in groups. I think with both of us a few paces away, we’ll be fine.”
We stop at a clearing, the rushing creek behind us a melodic song that lowers the tension in my shoulders. Tay pulls out his sword, gesturing for me to take out my daggers.
“Out here, you should be able to focus without the call of your magic.” He removes his vest, broad chest shadowed by the overhead brush. “You should work on relying on weapons instead of your powers.”
“You’re only saying that because you don’t trust me.” I unclasp my cloak, hanging it on a branch.
“Would that be wrong?”
Yes. “No.”
Out of anyone, it’s Tay I always wanted to trust me, to see the good in me. But he’s still frightened, unsure of what I can do.
I can’t blame him, but it doesn’t stop the ache from blooming in my chest.
We start slow, moving around, working on footwork. It’s not much, but it keeps my mind clear as I worry about my next step and not the emotions threatening to spill. At how Taylay doesn’t understand me.
And with just a few simple words, it seems like the heir does.
Focus, Max.
Taylay swings his sword and I parry, blocking with my blades crossed. Soon, we’re fighting, foot steps kicking up dirt, metal hitting over and over. Without words, we’re expressing our frustration—him at me for not being better, and me at him, for not getting me.
The final hit knocks me to the ground, laying on my back, hair plastered to my face as sweat drops down my cheeks.
“C’mon,” he cajoles, holding out a hand. “We can go a few more rounds. It’s past lunch.”
“Don’t we need to move soon?” I ask, chest heaving. I ignore his hand, pushing myself up on shaking legs.
Tay huffs, wiping his brow. “No, we’ve got one more night before we continue on. The guides say it’s worth waiting.”
Odd that the Fae would have us wait another day if they’re so ready to be done with us, but maybe they know something I don’t.
He waves me forward but I sheath my daggers. “I’m hungry.”
My friends looks ready to fight—but maybe he sees how done I truly am. How irritable I am. How everything feels wrong and yet, I’m still going along anyway. Regardless, he nods, taking me back into the clearing.
I regret it immediately. The camp is awake now, all the men moving around, laughing, calling to each other. The noise is loud but their blood wakes my magic and it rushes to meet it.
Grabbing my temples, I stumble back, a large oak tree keeping me from falling down.
Tay grabs my shoulder. “Breathe, Maximillia. Breathe. Let it pass.” It’s the same advice his mother used to give me. Ignore it. Don’t give in.
But neither of them understood my magic. It’s not something to ignore, it’s not something to control with fear. It doesn’t pass. I have to force it into submission or be lost to its ways. Only I can make it listen and right now, I’m too tired to try.
Cracking open one eye, I see Tay’s determined face. He’s always sure he knows best, thinks his mother knew all. And maybe she did, but in this? She didn’t.
“I need a minute.”
“Max--”
“Just to gather myself. And bathe.” I wave a hand over my clothes. “A quick bath and everything will be fine.”
Some silence, alone, without physical activity could help me build my mental shield and prepare for the onslaught before me.
“We shouldn’t be alone—”
“I’ll be right there.” I point to the small path. “Where we trained. There’s a creek I can use.”
Tay sighs, unsure. “Fine. Ten minutes. Any longer and I’m coming to get you.”