by Chloe Cole
“Dig in while I ladle up some stew then,” he murmured.
Smelling the milky, salty cheese in the air, I couldn't resist slicing off a piece and laying it on top of my bread.
Connor and I exchanged a look as our host lumbered across the room to the fire where a cauldron sat above the flames.
Hermit, indeed. Viktor lived well here in his cave, and I couldn’t help but be impressed.
“I can’t lie,” I admitted. “When Theodora said hermit, this isn’t exactly what I pictured.”
“Ha!” His laugh shook his belly as he set down our bowls and took a seat beside us. The tiny wooden chair squealed in protest but held fast as he pulled it closer to the table. “She always did have a sense of humor. I’m a hermit by necessity, not so much by choice, friends. I’ll tell you, I could hardly believe it when I got the eagle's message from her. We've both been waiting so long. But here you are. Anaya. And this one.” He eyed Connor, who was spooning a bite of meat and potatoes into his mouth. “One of the Saint John brothers. Anaya’s protector.”
Connor gave a curt nod. “Connor.”
"Right, then. Good to meet you, lad.” He dunked his bread into his stew and took a massive bite, oblivious to the crumbs that showered his thick beard. I smiled to myself as I nibbled on my square of cheese. Viktor was hard not to like.
“I know you’re anxious to hear what I have to tell you, but I have a question first,” he said, the food still rolling around in his mouth as he chewed. He hesitated, his mouth screwing into a frown as he met my eyes with a seriousness that he hadn’t seemed capable of until now. "How is Theodora? I know you don't know her well, but how did she look? Is she all right?"
I started, slightly taken aback. "Oh, uh, she looked good,” I said, shooting Connor a glance.
He nodded his agreement. “She seems well. Healthy, if that’s what you mean.”
Viktor’s chest seemed to cave in as he let out a long breath, his relief palpable. “Good. Good.”
"How did you two know one another?” I asked, my gut telling me there was a story here, more than what met the eye.
Viktor nodded. "I know her quite well. As well as I know myself, though I think we all can agree, oftentimes that seems like less than any of us would like."
Connor frowned, but didn’t interrupt as the bear shifter continued.
"She's my mate, my one true love.”
I let the words sink in as I set down my spoon. “So why are you here with her so far away?”
But I feared I already knew the answer, and a little knot of grief curled in my stomach as his mouth lifted in a sad half-smile.
“We had centuries together filled with joy and children—three bears and four lion cubs—if you can believe,” he said with a proud smile. “We traveled the world, healing and learning and collecting our herbs. But then the Great Sick came.”
His expression grew dark and I could sense Connor’s tension. I reached for his hand, holding it tight as Viktor pressed on.
“It was a terrible time. I watched the cubs dying, and I watched Theodora dying a little each time another was buried. It was so strange, how it only affected your kind, and seemed to be so partial to female cubs. We had our suspicions and began to dig. The king’s men came a time or two to gather our books to burn, but we managed to hide what we knew. When we dug deep enough, we found the prophecy and a story began to unfold. We both knew what had to be done. We separated, and split the book into two and had each rebound. That way, if one of us was discovered, or killed, there would be a failsafe in place for when the girl in the prophecy showed herself. Theodora kept one book, and I kept the other. I also began to collect bits and pieces of our history that managed to survive the burnings, speaking to village elders and traveling to dig deeper. I also chronicled every bit of what happened in the aftermath to serve as proof of our claims. Then, we waited. For years, we waited.”
He sat back and pushed his bowl away, swiping his forearm over his mouth. His dark eyes clouded and I watched him, feeling the depth of his sadness. I knew how hard it was to leave the people you loved, all for the greater good.
My thoughts drifted to Michael, Lucian and Gatlin…then to Iris, but I shoved those thoughts away. So many had made sacrifices so we could be right here, right now.
I had to do everything in my power to ensure it wasn’t for nothing.
"Have you gotten to see each other in the years you've been apart?" I asked, hoping for some ray of light in the darkness of his story.
He shook his head. “Far too risky. We each moved to new places, created new lives. Being seen together could cause suspicion. Many were already wary of Theodora because of her powers. It wouldn’t take much to get people riled up enough to cry witch. It was best to have a clean break with the old.”
Connor nodded. "That makes sense."
Viktor took a deep breath, then brightened as he reached out and patted my hand. “Don’t you fret, though, Anaya. We had hundreds of beautiful years together before all this madness. We will have hundreds of years to come. Now that we have you to bring forward the truth, that small space of time we were apart will disappear into nothingness and everything will be as it was. The way it was always supposed to be."
I frowned. “This is the part that worries me. What makes you think that my bringing the prophecy forward now will work any more than if Theodora had when you first discovered it? Will people even believe me?”
Viktor shook his crust of bread at me. “This is where my half of the tale picks up where Theodora’s left off. I beg you attend it closely."
I nodded, then glanced at Connor who did the same.
Viktor slapped his hands on his knees and stood as if he was about to give a speech.
“The girl has hair of garnet, every bit her father’s child,
On the outside, she seems tame, but on the inside, she is wild,
A beacon of hope and freedom, with the kingdom at her hand,
She and her four protectors, will heal this broken land.”
We both stared at him in silence as the words sank in, but didn’t make sense.
“I have red hair, but my father doesn’t,” I protested, brain spinning wildly as I tried to make sense of it all.
“This is a love story of sorts, Anaya. Bet you didn’t see that coming,” he added, touching his finger to his nose before continuing. “It all started twenty years ago, when a beautiful young lioness was passing through a small town on her way to visit family to the south. This was before the time of marauders, when females could travel without the constant threat of violence against them, and she traveled alone. She stopped at an inn for a night's rest and some food. A young minstrel sang and entertained the customers, and she became smitten. He noticed her and sang her a song so sweet, she invited him to sup with her. Together, they ate, and in that short span of time, they fell in love.”
His face grew troubled and he shook his shaggy head.
“Alas, the two young lovers shared only one night together before tragedy struck."
Viktor paused for effect and I took a bite of my bread, tingling with anticipation for the twist in his tale.
“They separated in the morning as his caravan was to move to another town, but they made a promise to meet up a week later in that very same spot once her visit was over. One week later, she returned to the tavern, full of excitement and hope, and something else…something joyous, but her minstrel never came. She waited for three days before leaving, broken-hearted.”
He spread hands wide and began to pace, his voice booming in the quiet room now.
“You see, she was with child and now unmated. Her parents disowned her and, when the Great Sick began to spread, Ironhaven was in chaos. She was forced to find and marry a man she didn’t love in order to gain protection for her and her child."
"That's terrible," I murmured.
"It is," Viktor agreed. "But worse still is the fact that she never knew that her minstrel did not forsake her or that he wasn�
�t a true minstrel at all. The night after he left, he and two others were murdered by a band of cutthroats outside the forest of Standish.”
Standish?
My mind whirred and reeled as I tried to place the name of the town that seemed so familiar.
“That’s where King Patrick Lonnergan and Queen Anne and their son, Robert the Red, were killed two decades ago,” Connor muttered under his breath incredulously. “Bloody hell, the minstrel was the prince in disguise.”
“That he was. He wanted a bit of fun on his journey, and wound up falling in love. His cousin, next in line for the throne, was none other than our usurper king, Sebastian Du Monde. Theodora and I have enough evidence between us to show that he had his aunt, uncle and cousin murdered and, when word of the prophecy reached him, he created the Great Sick himself to ensure it would never come to pass.”
My head spun and I tried to iron out all the little pieces of information in his story, but the more I thought about it, the more confused I grew.
“This is a tragic tale to be sure, but I still don’t see how hearing it from me—”
Viktor turned to me with a patient smile. “It will mean more coming from the true heir to the throne, Anaya.”
I stared at him, mouth agape as the room seemed to spin.
"It's you, Anaya," Connor said quietly. "You were the baby in the story. And the minstrel’s lover was your mother.”
A thousand thoughts ran through my mind at once as I tried to process what I was hearing. Viktor shuffled over to the bookshelves and then returned holding a leather-bound tome almost the same size as Theodora’s.
“A bar maid from that inn remembered the minstrel and a woman from that night, had watched them together and was certain the minstrel was Robert the Red. She was taken with the romance of it all, so she remained silent. Once the royal family was murdered, she stayed silent for fear of being next. She kept her secret until I came passing through, years later, trying to make sense of the prophecy. She admitted that she had seen the prince with a woman shortly before his death. We never could discover who the woman was…until your Gatlin came into town needing herbs to color dark red hair. She didn’t think too much of it until the images came down from the palace claiming you and your four tutors had run away. This is your legacy and all the proof you need to retake what is rightfully yours. Hundreds of pages of painstaking notes detailing his treachery, each lie he told and every law he made to cover his tracks. With this, you can avenge all the cubs who died in vain.”
Robert the Red. My true father. I still couldn’t believe it, not yet, but if it were true, it would explain so very much…
I glanced at Connor, suddenly aware of just how much this could all mean to him and his brothers…to avenge their sister who had died because of a power-hungry madman.
I turned the book over in my hands, thinking of all Viktor had said, the weight of these revelations heavy on my soul.
What if I told the people of the prophecy and they didn't believe me? I would be letting everyone I loved down. Spinning this story was an act of out and out treason. My parents and Iris could be dragged to the gallows right behind me.
Almost as scary was the thought that the shifters of Ironhaven did believe me. What if everyone I'd ever known or met would look to me not as the fugitive girl from the king's harem, but as the queen of all they held dear? The one who was to lead them and protect them?
I wasn’t worthy.
Viktor cleared his throat, dragging my attention away from the book in my hands.
“I know that this is a lot to take in and you’ve had a trying day. It’s growing dark, Your Grace,” Viktor said in the softest voice he’d used since we’d arrived. “Shall I make you a pallet so you can rest for the night?"
Your Grace.
Dear lord, how was I to manage this?
"No," I answered, suddenly desperate to get out of there. I corrected myself quickly and forced my lips into a smile. "No, thank you, Viktor. You’ve been so very kind and have already done so much more than anyone should be asked to do. But we must go now and prepare to meet the others. There is much to be done.”
But the truth was? I needed to be by myself right now.
Because my entire world had just been blown to smithereens, and I had no idea where all the pieces would fall…
Chapter 13
As we strode from Viktor’s home, book in hand, I tried to focus on the chill in the air and the faint tinge of purple in the sky that meant night was coming on fast. We'd have to find a place to sleep, but I had to leave that to Connor.
My brain was so overloaded, I could hardly hold my head up.
Queen.
Me.
I was supposed to wrap my head around the fact that I was the daughter of Robert the Red and that my poor mother had a whole other life before I was born. A life of heartache that only continued for her whole life to this point.
Luckily, I didn’t have to walk far before Connor gestured to an alcove hidden in the thickest part of the woods. He crawled into the space, making quick work of gathering branches and starting a fire as I swept leaves and soft ferns into a pile for us to sleep on.
All the way from the hermit's house, we'd walked in companionable silence, but I could feel Connor's gaze on me now…could sense that he was waiting for me to open up, but to say any of it out loud would make it real and I just wasn’t ready.
Instead, I scooted closer to the fire, flipping my hands back and forth over the flame to try and stave off the bitter cold creeping in with the stars and moon.
"Anaya..." Connor started.
I shook my head slowly. “Don’t. Please.”
"We ought to talk about it, lass. There must be a million thoughts banging around in that beautiful head. It will help to get them out.”
I focused on the crackling flame between us and blew out a sigh. "I don't know what there is to say. Yesterday, we discovered the king was almost certainly responsible for killing thousands of children, including your own sister. Today, we learned it was all in an effort to get to me.”
And there it was. The crux of the matter. The thing that had me tied in knots. If I’d never been born…
"I don’t see it that way,” Connor replied, his voice ringing with sincerity.
"Then what way would you see it?" I begged, snapping my gaze to his.
“You were a baby, Anaya. You knew none of this. You can’t take the blame for the actions of a mass-murdering lunatic.”
“Not the blame,” I insisted. “Just…you know what the worst part is? I don’t even want to be queen. Had someone asked me, I’d have handed it all over to him without a soul ever being harmed.”
"You're afraid you're not strong enough," he whispered.
I whimpered my agreement, unable to say the words aloud.
“Anaya, you have the power to change the fates of everyone. To give them choices where there were none. Being queen is an honor. One you owe to yourself and the people of Ironhaven to claim,” Connor said, his eyes blazing with fire now as he moved closer and sat beside me. “You’ve been a rock through this all, and growing every single day. You’ve fought males three times your size and outrun a pack of hounds. You’ve traipsed the countryside in search of this truth, and managed to make four very different, pigheaded men fall totally, madly in love with you in the process."
He dropped a kiss to my forehead.
"Including me."
I looked up at him, wanting to believe what he said. Hoping against hope he was right.
"Kiss me again," I said softly, suddenly desperate for contact. To feel him close to me and remind me how precious life could be.
Connor didn't need to be asked twice. Cupping my cheek in his hand, he lifted my face to his and traced my lips with the tip of his tongue. It was softer than I would have expected of him, sweeter, too, and I sighed into his touch, meeting his tongue with my own and stroking it until the fire between my legs stirred and ached.
At his touch, my
body came alive and he pressed me back into the soft leaves, his kisses becoming wilder.
"You have no idea how afraid I was that we’d lost you,” he muttered against my mouth. “How grateful I am that you’re all right.”
I swallowed his words and pressed against him, suddenly just as frantic for his touch as he seemed for mine.
Without preamble, I reached between us and shoved my hand down the front of his pants, closing my fingers over his hard, thick length and groaning.
“No waiting. No teasing. Just take me, Connor. Please.”
With a groan, he slid his hand between us, finding my core and squeezing through the fabric of my britches. I bucked against his touch, marveling at the change in him. No smiles, no jokes. He was all drive and determination he reeled back.
“Turn and get on your knees in front of me,” he muttered.
His hands tore at the front of his pants and I couldn’t do his bidding fast enough. I wrenched my pants down to my ankles and dropped to all fours, heart thrumming as the cool night air caressed my bare skin. When my ass was poised in the air, I felt his hands close around my waist and guide me back against his hips. I held my breath as he slid his cock up and down, teasing my aching bud, testing my readiness until I arched my back…aching for him to take me so hard that I forgot who I was or why we were here.
When I was beyond the point of sanity, he pressed his broad head inside me, and my gasp echoed through the night. Birds fluttered from the trees nearby and I moaned as he slid deeper, inch by inexorable inch.
"Fuck," he groaned. “Ah, Anaya. Lass, you’re so wet for me. So tight. So perfect.“
My inner walls quaked and my stiff nipples throbbed as I pressed backward, forcing him further until he was lodged so deeply inside me it was hard to tell where I ended and he began.
And then it was the slow descent to beautiful madness. Long, deep thrusts, as we mated like animals, heedless of our low grunts…of the slap of skin on skin as he pounded into me, the drag of his hot, needy flesh on mine sending pulses of ecstasy skittering through me from head to toe. Greedy for more, for everything, I pushed back, needing him to ride me harder, faster, to claim every last inch of me. He gripped my hips tight, his low groans getting louder.
