Strength

by W. J. May

  Asher glanced up sharply, while Seth leaned forward with a grin.

  “But it must be really hard, right?” he asked innocently. “Taking someone else’s shape? I would imagine only a handful of people in the realm could possibly manage it.”

  Eli nodded importantly, while Ellanden silently drained his glass.

  “It’s harder than you can possibly imagine,” the shape-shifter replied.

  Cosette nodded thoughtfully, eyes wide as saucers.

  “It says a lot about you as a person,” she murmured. “To have been chosen by the fates for that sort of thing.”

  The glass shattered in Ellanden’s hand. He wiped it discreetly beneath the table.

  “That’s what they say,” Eli answered smugly, leaning back in his chair. “There’s a reason the Kreo traditionally chose us shape-shifters to lead the tribe—”

  There was a sharp burst of laughter, and the entire table turned to the fae. He had been trying extremely hard to contain himself, but some offenses were too great to ignore.

  “And you’re leading this tribe, are you?” he asked sarcastically. “The old man who greeted us and called himself chief...that was more of an honorary title?”

  Eli’s eyes narrowed in dislike. “I’m not saying I’m the chief. I’m just—”

  “You’re just what?” the fae interrupted.

  There was a charged pause.

  “Forget it,” Eli scoffed. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  The prince’s hands balled into fists.

  “I wouldn’t get it—” He caught himself suddenly, looking past the shifter to where the rest of his friends were watching with silent amusement. A look of intense frustration flashed across his face before he leaned back suddenly in his chair. “You’re right—I wouldn’t get it.”

  Evie bit her lip to keep from laughing. Even Asher couldn’t help but smile.

  It was probably the farthest the fae had ever stretched his patience, but the stars were aligned against him and he couldn’t get a break. Instead of changing the subject the shape-shifter zeroed in with unnatural precision, leaning forward to examine him for the first time.

  “Actually, we had a prince once who was part fae,” he said conversationally.

  Ellanden looked away quickly, wishing he could also change his face, while Seth cocked his head with an innocent smile. “You don’t say...”

  Eli laughed shortly, taking a drink from his cup.

  “The guy was a bit of a legend. Not because of his magic—he never cared for anything like that.” He lifted his eyes to the drunken festivities. “But because of nights like this.”

  The friends turned to him with sudden interest, leaning forward at the same time.

  Since they were children, Ellanden had been loath to talk about the time he spent amongst his mother’s people. But over the years, little things had slipped out. Spells he’d heard, people he’d met. Evie knew for a fact that he’d lost his virginity in a place like this, although the circumstances under which it happened had never been made clear.

  “Really,” she said with a coaxing smile, “do tell...”

  The shape-shifter opened his mouth to reply, but Ellanden beat him to it.

  “That’s not...I mean...we don’t have to...” He trailed off in dismay, staring back at five uncompromising smiles. “It’s unseemly to discuss such things—”

  “The guy’s dead,” Eli interrupted callously. “What does it matter?”

  The smiles faded. Even Seth lost his humor. The only one who didn’t notice was the shape-shifter himself. He leaned back instead, sipping whiskey and preaching to a captive audience.

  “We don’t have many fae,” he continued casually, “the guy’s father married into it, so he was a bit of a novelty. Lots of great stories to choose from, but the best is probably the day it all started.”

  Ellanden paled in horror, but there was nothing to be done.

  “The day it all started?” Asher prompted with a curious frown. “What do you mean?”

  “The guy’s birthday,” Eli clarified, downing the rest like a shot. “Once he turned fourteen, the rest of the tribe decided he was fair game. Made quite the show of welcoming him to the fold.”

  Evie lifted her eyebrows ever so slightly, glancing at Ellanden. From everything she knew about him—and she knew a lot—she would bet that he hadn’t exactly shied away from the attention.

  Not like he was doing now.

  “I’m serious.” He glanced around the clearing, pulling at the neck of his tunic like it was suddenly hard to breathe. “Can’t we just—”

  “Seems there was a whole group of people lining up to deflower the prince,” Eli concluded with a smile. “Literally lining up outside his chamber, waiting their turn. Accounts vary as to how many there actually were, but if you believe the rumors he was more than happy to oblige.”

  A hushed silence fell over the table.

  Then everyone turned to the fae at the same time.

  “Are you serious?”

  “I believe the rumors.”

  “Over-compensating for something...”

  “It’s a miracle he didn’t come away with some kind of disease.”

  “That’s enough, all right?” Ellanden interrupted them, trying to maintain what was left of his dignity. “We don’t know the whole story...maybe he was lonely.”

  Seth pursed his lips. “Doesn’t sound like it...”

  The fae shot him an icy look. “Maybe he was lonely because, while he’d been exiled to the jungle, the rest of his friends got a summer of sparring at the palace. Maybe he was coping the only way he knew how.”

  The vampire laughed under his breath, while Evie folded her arms with a sarcastic grin.

  “Oh—that’s what it was? He was self-medicating?”

  Ellanden’s eyes flashed but he glanced at Eli and visibly reined himself in, biting back his retort and answering with a mild, “...one might suppose.”

  The entire table erupted in laughter, forgetting themselves completely as it went on loud and long. The only people who didn’t partake were Eli—who didn’t know why it was happening, and Freya—who didn’t find it as funny as all the rest. And of course Ellanden himself—who silently vowed to murder each and every one of them before the night was through.

  It was still going on when the chief stood up suddenly, silencing the party with a single gesture as he turned towards his guests with a raised glass.

  “To the tides...washing up new friends on our humble shores.”

  The friends blushed and smiled as the eyes of the entire village turned their way. How kind of him to include the shipwreck, but the Kreo were a blunt people, and their chief didn’t stop there.

  “We’re sorry for our initial welcome. I’m told things got off to a rocky start...” As if the rest of them didn’t know what he meant, he was quick to clarify. “We tried to drown the vampire.”

  There was a tittering of nervous laughter—laughter that got louder as time went on.

  Asher shook his head in exasperation, but it was so charmingly said even he couldn’t help but smile. Some of the witches who’d taken part actually lifted their hands in an apologetic wave, while the warlock who’d orchestrated the whole thing gave a careless shrug.

  The chief’s eyes twinkled before growing suddenly thoughtful.

  “Whatever path has brought you, we are glad for your arrival. Whatever time you spend, we pray it treats you well. And whatever day you choose to leave us, we hope the tides will bring you back again. But for now, drink and be merry. For the night is young...”

  The rest of the tribe chanted along.

  “...and we’ll soon return to the stars.”

  Ellanden mouthed the words along with the rest of them, unable to resist a tiny smile. The friends lifted their glasses and drank deeply, every one of them taking the words to heart. There was no telling what the future might hold, but for now they were content to live in the present.

  For however long
they could make it last...

  Chapter 11

  There were few things more inviting after a long night than the sight of an empty bed.

  Evie had sunk into hers without thinking, without undressing, without doing anything more than trying to kick off her shoes. At that point, she remembered she wasn’t wearing any. At that point, she remembered she was basically undressed already. At that point, she promptly blacked out.

  When she pried open her eyes the next morning, shafts of filtered sunlight were already pouring into the room. It took a few seconds to remember what had happened, to remember where she was. Not only in a Kreo camp but in a glorified tree fort, seeing that sunlight from fifty feet up.

  She rolled over slowly, blinking in silence out the open window.

  Things hadn’t died down after the chief’s toast. If anything, the party had only picked up speed. The older members of the village had gone to bed, leaving the younger members free to do as they wished. There were sparring matches and more dancing. Forgotten fights and fits of laughter. Whatever bottles of whiskey and ale that hadn’t already been consumed were unearthed from some back-up location and carried in triumph to the tables. After that, memories started to blur...

  Evie remembered Eli asking her to dance. Seth and Cosette were already tangled together by the fire, lost in their own world. She remembered meeting Asher’s eyes across the table, remembered the exact look on his face. Then things took a turn for the worse.

  Ellanden said something rude. Freya attempted a drunken spell. The table went flying and its occupants scattered. There was a chance the princess had fallen into the mud...?

  She pulled back the blanket, glancing down at her bare feet.

  Sure enough, there were little streaks of dirt and grass laced around her ankles, along with something that looked suspiciously like paint. She reached out a hand to examine it, only to see that there was paint on her arms as well. A rather crude design. She was horrified she’d done it herself.

  “Morning.”

  She lifted her head to see Ellanden standing in the doorway, looking like a slightly hungover angel, gripping two steaming cups and staring down at her with a sunlit smile.

  The feast had left a lasting impression on him as well. In addition to the swirling designs painted on his skin, the fae had apparently embraced the Kreo dress code. Instead of his usual tunic and cloak, he was wearing the same leather bands as the rest of them. They clung to his fair skin like they’d been painted as well, curving around each muscle and hanging loose on his hips.

  A far cry from his usual refinement. But the strange thing was, it oddly suited him.

  Evie took the cup, patting the bed beside her. “You’ve embraced the wardrobe, I see.”

  He settled down beside her, glancing at himself a bit self-consciously. “You like?”

  She nodded faintly, lifting a finger to trace the leather bands on his chest. They ran from shoulder to hip—stretching across him in a giant X. Between that, the braided hair, and the swirls of henna, it was a side of him she’d never seen before. One she’d never even considered.

  “You look like a jungle mercenary,” she said practically. “It’s quite fetching.”

  He laughed and finished the rest of his drink. “Excellent.”

  The princess was supposed to be sharing a room with the rest of the girls, but they were nowhere in sight. Judging from the position of the sun, it was already coming on noon. They’d probably left ages ago. Either that, or they’d never made it back for the night.

  She thought again of Seth and Cosette, rotating slowly in front of the fire. It looked like the shifter’s plan had skipped a couple phases and gone right to the end.

  “That was a crazy party,” she murmured, inhaling a breath of sweet-smelling steam. She took a tentative sip and smiled, tasting flowers and honey. “I think we decimated their alcohol supply.”

  Ellanden shrugged, gazing at the paint swirled across her body.

  “They can always get more. At any rate, it’s why I wanted to check on you.” He flashed another blinding smile. “That was a small ocean of whiskey you drank last night.”

  Seven hells...you’re right.

  As if on cue, the image brightened unbearably and the throbbing of a migraine began pounding the inside of her brain. She lifted a hand with a grimace, cursing under her breath.

  “I’d like to say it was worth it but, to be honest, I don’t really remember.”

  They laughed quietly and he pressed the cup back into her hand.

  “Drink up—it’ll help.”

  She took another long sip, staring out the window as he began playing absentmindedly with her hair. She might not remember the feast itself, but she was painfully aware of what had happened before in Asher’s room. A sudden chill swept over her as she played back each moment with perfect clarity—crushed beneath him on the mattress, her bare legs encircling his waist.

  It could have been perfect. It should have been perfect.

  But then there was the blood.

  Her face stilled as she remembered it—the way it had looked, dripping down his skin. Never had she been more truly aware of what he was than in that very moment. Suddenly, it was easy to understand the way other people looked at him. Suddenly, it was easy to understand the fear.

  A vampire was a predator.

  And she’d invited one into her bed—

  “What’s the matter?” Ellanden asked softly. She startled in surprise, and he brushed back a lock of her hair with a gentle smile. “You’re a thousand miles away.”

  She blushed and dropped her eyes to the blanket, lightly kicking it off her legs. “Just trying to remember what happened last night,” she said evasively, gesturing to the swirls of henna looping across her thighs. “I might have attempted an art project.”

  He laughed again, running the tip of his finger along her ribcage. There was henna there, too, swirling in an uneven pattern down her sides. “I think it turned out okay...”

  She shivered a little under his touch, then turned to face him.

  “Ellanden...do you think we should ask the chief about the shipwreck?”

  He pulled back a few inches, staring with a frown. “What do you mean? Why would he know anything about it?”

  “Do you remember what you told me back in Belaria, about the Kreo having certain elixirs and spells that can help you remember things once forgotten?”

  He froze a second, then nodded quickly.

  “So maybe he would have something to help me remember the shipwreck.”

  The fae stared another moment, then shook his head. “Why would you want to?”

  In all fairness, it was a good question. She remembered enough of the moments beforehand to know that she wasn’t going to like what was coming next. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something didn’t add up. That they were missing some crucial piece of the puzzle.

  Then there are my dreams...

  “It’s just...unsettling,” she deflected again, setting her cup on the floor. “I can’t remember anything after being thrown into the water, and you said yourself that you had no idea how we could have washed up on such a distant shore. We’re missing something. And I need to know what it is.”

  He nodded distractedly, trailing a finger down the side of her arm.

  “Landi.”

  He blinked quickly, dropping his hand.

  “Sorry—what?”

  She looked him over with a frown, clearly underestimating his own hangover.

  “The chief,” she repeated. “Do you think he could help me with something like that?”

  He lowered his eyes quickly, staring into his lap. “Yeah, uh...that’s a good idea.”

  She frowned again, leaning down to catch his gaze. “Are you okay? You’re acting weird.”

  He sat there a moment, then shook his head with a sigh.

  “Not really,” he said quietly. “I guess...I must remember more of the shipwreck than you.”

  Her lip
s parted in surprise.

  “But you said that you didn’t,” she murmured. “In the cart on the way over here, you said that you could only remember fragments—”

  “That’s true,” he said quickly, “but it’s been coming back to me. Like pieces of a dream.”

  She scooted instinctively closer, reaching out to take his hand.

  “Tell me...”

  It was quiet for a few moments as the fae stared at the bedcover, deep in thought. Without seeming to think about it, he closed his hand gently—lacing his fingers through hers.

  “It’s feelings more than memories,” he finally confessed. “The shock of being thrown into the water, the panic watching the ship sink into the waves.” A shiver ran down his arms. “I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe...I was terrified.”

  Evie’s heart broke a thousand times over. In all the years they’d known each other, she could count on one hand the number of times the fae had shown such emotion. As if his quiet words weren’t enough, the look on his face was breaking her heart.

  “I felt the same way,” she murmured, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “And without being able to remember, I keep feeling like part of me is still back there. Like it hasn’t finished yet.”

  He lifted his eyes, staring vacantly into the trees.

  “I remember,” he said softly. “I remember seeing the mast crack in half, watching the anchor drag it down into the sea. I remember seeing you in the water above me,” he continued suddenly, “floating in the waves with your eyes closed.”

  A strange look came over his face as he turned towards her. His fingers tightened with a belated rush of emotion as his other hand slipped behind her hair.

  “I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again.”

  Their eyes met...then he was kissing her.

  What the—?!

  Her eyes shot open as his lips brushed against her mouth. A muted cry rose up in her throat, but it was like a shockwave had exploded in her brain. Words failed her. Thought failed her.

  She was simply stunned.

  Quick as it started, the kiss immediately deepened. His fingers curled into her hair, and he was easing her down onto the bed. His body, which she knew so well, felt suddenly unfamiliar, flushed with heat and stretching out on top of hers. Those radiant eyes were closed as he pulled her even closer, his hand was sliding up her skirt—