A Heart of Midnight (Dark Fae Academy Book 2)

by Jenna Wolfhart

  Eurig caught Rafe staring at the two of them, and he arched an eyebrow, his shoulders rippling as his muscles tensed. “Something wrong, instructor?”

  “You need to keep better control,” Rafe snapped.

  But Rafe wasn’t talk about Eurig’s control over his shift, and they both knew it.

  “More control?” Eurig narrowed his eyes. “I’ve been shifting since the day I was born.”

  “It is all emotion. There is too much anger in it,” Rafe said. Truth be told, Eurig’s shift was strong, but Rafe was still right in his critique. There was a shimmer of anger beneath the surface of Eurig’s skin. If he wasn’t careful to keep it wrapped up tight, the beast within could go wild with rage. And after seeing exactly what kind of creature the outposter transformed into…losing control was not an option.

  “Maybe if you had been raised on the outposts instead of being coddled inside this castle all your life, you would understand what true anger is.”

  Rafe frowned, and a spark of anger lit a match in his gut. “Do not presume you know anything about me or my life. Or anyone else inside this castle for that matter.”

  “Honestly,” Bree said with an irritated sigh. She strode between them and sent each of the males a sharp look in turn. “I thought we were here to train together, not argue over who had a worse life.”

  Rafe fell silent and pushed his irritation toward the male fae away. Bree was right. They were here to train. If they were to succeed, they needed to work together instead of against. And it didn’t escape his notice that, out of all of them, Bree was probably the one who had experienced the most pain and heartache in her life. She had been viciously attacked by a Redcap when she had been a human, and she’d been transformed into one herself. At the time, the Autumn Court in the Light Fae realm had used her for the beast within her. And then she’d been dragged to the Dark Fae realm against her will, forced to become Taveon’s slave.

  It was a miracle that she’d agreed to stay.

  “Enough of the shifting,” Eurig said, grabbing a sword from the weapon rack that hung on the wall just beside the door. He spun the hilt in his hands, wrapping his beefy fingers around the gold. “I propose we have a real fight. One on one. If I win, we call an end to today’s training. If you win…” Eurig shrugged.

  Rafe narrowed his eyes, torn between walking away and putting this outposter in his place.

  “Well, this should be good,” Lyra said, crossing her arms over her chest and smiling wide. “It is not every day you get to watch an outposter and a Wilde Fae duke it out.”

  Rafe heard Bree’s wince, though he didn’t see it. He was too busy glaring at the outposter to glance her way, but he could guess the expression on her face. Bright eyes dimmed with worry. Jaw clenched tight. Hands twisting together as she paced back and forth across the stone floor.

  “There’s no need for this, Rafe,” Bree said, voice trembling. “You’re the instructor. You call the shots here. Not him. And he’s a...well, he’s a tank.”

  “Alright.” Rafe gave a nod and strode over to the weapon’s rack where he selected his favorite sword. It was smaller than Eurig’s but sharper and much more deadly when used with the right technique. If Bree hadn’t said anything, Rafferty would have probably been able to let this go, but he couldn’t let Eurig show Rafe up in front of his female. He just couldn’t help himself. It was instinctual, something that was hard-wired into the very souls of the Dark Fae. Bree was his, and he could not allow another male fae to come across like the winning party.

  Rafe held up his sword and shot a glittering smile at Eurig. “We will fight. And when I win, you will agree to never question my training methods again.”

  “Agreed,” Eurig said with a tense smile.

  “This is ridiculous,” Bree muttered while Lyra clapped her hands.

  “One more thing,” Rafe said, his voice full of steel. “You will also agree that you will not challenge Bree. Not again. We are all a team here. We will not succeed if we fight amongst ourselves.”

  Eurig was slower to agree to that one. And Rafe knew why. The outposter enjoyed going toe to toe with Bree, a fact that Rafe understood far better than anyone else. He had felt the same when he’d first met her, and Taveon had kept the dance going far longer than he should. But Rafe would not let some outsider come in and mess with Bree’s head.

  Finally, Eurig gave a nod. “Agreed.”

  Swords clashed when the fight between them began. Rafe grunted at the contact, wincing at the strength the outposter showed. Taveon had been wrong to believe this fae was not trained. He had strength, speed, and skill that Rafe had rarely seen, not even in members of the Court.

  From an outposter? It was hard to imagine. Those fae lived on wooden platforms erected high above the sea. They lived on fish and fresh sea air, and they did not value swords and steel. How had this male come to be so proficient in fighting?

  Rafe got his sword up just in time to block another blow from Eurig’s sword. But it was enough force to make him stumble back, and his feet tripped underneath him. Rafe caught his balance just in time, blocking another parry and then swinging his own sword for a forceful blow toward Eurig’s legs.

  He did not want to hurt the outposter, but Eurig was not holding back. So, neither would he.

  Eurig danced away from Rafe’s blade as if the weapon was nothing more than a piece of hay. Grunting, Rafe swung again and again, using all of his strength to whip his sword from side to side.

  His breathing became ragged, and his movements began to slow. In the back of his mind, Rafe understood what Eurig was doing. It was a technique that Rafe had used himself many a time. Force your opponent to work hard. Tire him out. Let him spend all of his energy. And then make the killing blow when he is far too tired to do a damn thing about it.

  But Rafe would not let this outposter get the better of him, not in front of Bree.

  So, he made one final attempt to win the fight. Rafe braced his feet on the floor, gritted his teeth, and swung his sword for all he was worth. Eurig caught the blade with his own, and the weapon clattered out of Rafe’s hands. His eyes widened as Eurig smiled and lunged forward.

  The sharp edge of the sword grazed against Rafe’s right leg, and a sharp burst of pain exploded through his core. Rafe dropped to his knees, grasping at the blood now pouring from the brutal wound. And then Eurig’s sword flew right at his neck, stopping only an inch short of its mark.

  The sharp steel did not cut into Rafe’s skin but it might as well have. He felt the damage of the blow nonetheless.

  Eurig’s deep voice echoed in the cavernous space when he spoke. “Looks like I won. Training is over for the day.” The fae pulled back and dropped his sword to the ground before shooting Bree a mischievous smile. Her face was ashen as she blinked at him. “Nice meeting you, Redcap girl. See you tomorrow. If you’re lucky.”

  Chapter 7

  Bree

  Rafe’s blood spread across the stone floor, and Bree’s stomach tumbled over itself so many times that she felt like she might be sick. She dropped to her knees by his side and pressed her hands against the slick wound. He winced, closing his eyes against the pain. And even thought there was no magical bond between them, she swore she could feel the sharp tremors echoing throughout her own body.

  “You’re an asshole,” she shot over her shoulder as Eurig disappeared through the door. Lyra took two steps back, and then quickly followed the outposter out of the Academy’s space. Bree huffed and turned back to Rafe, her blood boiling. She couldn’t believe that guy. Who did he think he was? The whole point in coming here was to train, and yet he’d stabbed his instructor in order to get out of it.

  “Do not waste your anger on him,” Rafe said through clenched teeth as he handed her a scrap of fabric he’d extracted from his tunic. “He has the typical outposter rage issues. They are brought up to be harsh, bitter, and violent. Taveon knew the risks when he asked Eurig to train here. Besides, I do not think he meant the sword to go so
deep.”

  “If he hates being here so much, then why the hell did he even come?” Bree asked as she fumbled with the fabric. She tied it tightly around Rafe’s leg once and then twice, but the blood still fell fast and thick onto the floor.

  “Perhaps he volunteered for the same reason you did in the beginning.” Rafe shot her a pained smile. “He thought he could make a difference. He wanted to make the realm better for his kind.”

  “Well, if he really felt that way then he shouldn’t be stabbing his instructor!” Bree wanted to throw up her hands, but she was afraid to let go of the cloth. So, she merely let her body tremble with the anger pouring through her like a tidal wave.

  Rafe chuckled. “If I recall correctly, you did something quite similar. Or have you already forgotten that you stabbed Taveon on your first day here?”

  Bree’s heart clenched tight. How could she forget?

  “Yeah, but.” Bree frowned. “That was way different and you know it.”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Rafe groaned as he sat up on his elbows. “Bree, I am afraid this wound is going to need far more than just a bandage. I would ask you to take me to Taveon, but…”

  But Taveon was in much worse shape than Rafe was in this moment. That said…a lightbulb went off over Bree’s head.

  “You always ask for Taveon when you’re wounded. Why is that, Rafe?”

  Rafe was silent for once. He pressed his lips tightly together and glanced away. Even after everything that had happened, the two of them were still keeping something from Bree. Whatever it was linked back to all their other hidden secrets. Taveon’s silver wings. Taveon’s immortality.

  “You might as well go ahead and tell me,” she said, pressing her lips together. “I’ve already figured it out anyway.”

  Rafe’s face paled. “You have figured out Taveon’s secret?”

  “So, he does have a secret? I knew it.” She began ticking off the evidence on her fingers. “He has silver wings. He cannot be killed. And he has some kind of healing powers, which is why you keep asking for him when you’re hurt.”

  Rafe flicked his eyes to the open door, and he dropped his voice to a low growl. “Careful, Bree.”

  “They’re gone,” Bree said, and then let a beat pass. “So, it’s true. Taveon can heal people.”

  Rafe let out a long sigh. “He can heal fae, yes. But it is best if you keep that information to yourself.”

  “When are you two finally going to trust me enough to tell me the truth about him? When are you going to explain to me what all of this means?” Bree fought the urge to shove up from the floor and curl her hands into fists. If Rafe wasn’t so hurt, she would, but she wouldn’t leave his side now. Despite how frustrated she felt about all of his secrets.

  “Truthfully, I assumed that you already knew, Bree,” Rafe said, wincing as he attempted to stand. Bree grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet, but the weight of him practically crushed her shoulders into dust. “You have that bond. All your thoughts and emotions and secrets pass through it. I thought you would have heard it…”

  Bree frowned and thought back to the moment when every barrier between her mind and Taveon’s had broken down. She had accepted the bond, fully and completely, and a rush of swirling memories and emotions had torn through her very soul. There had been something…she remembered. Something dark and dangerous Taveon desperately wanted to hide. But it hadn’t scared her. Instead, she’d felt more drawn to him than she ever had before.

  She had reached out toward him and smiled...

  But then the memory had been doused in murky waters, hiding itself from Bree’s conscious state. It felt like a distant dream, one she’d had so many years in the past that it had long been lost.

  Somewhere deep inside of her, she knew the answers to all of her questions were there. Hiding and waiting for her to unwrap the truth and see it for its full glory. But right now, it was too far out of her grasp for her to see any part of it at all.

  So, for now, she would have to go with what Taveon and Rafe were willing to tell her. Unfortunately, that wasn’t much.

  Bree and Rafe stumbled through the castle grounds until they reached the Prince’s—no, the King’s—chambers. Taveon had chosen to continue to reside in the rooms he’d had since a small fae boy instead of moving into the rooms of the late King Midas. The two guards standing watch outside in the corridor gave Bree and Rafe a quick glance before immediately opening the doors and ushering them inside.

  She hoped that this would work. She didn’t know what she would do if it didn’t. Rafe had left a trail of blood behind him, and his grip on her arm had weakened with every step they’d made toward Taveon’s chambers. She didn’t know how much longer he would be able to hold onto consciousness.

  “Bree,” he wheezed as she lowered him onto Taveon’s red satin sofa. “I appreciate what you are attempting to do, but Taveon is in no shape to heal me. If you ask him to try, he may very well end up falling further into his unconsciousness.”

  “Which is why I don’t plan on asking him to try,” she chirped, shuffling over to Taveon’s tidy desk where she found a pen and ink and a scrap of parchment. “I’m going to ask Taveon what the hell I need to do to fix you, and then I’m going to do it my damn self.”

  Rafe rubbed a shaky hand down his face. “Bree, I am thankful you are trying to help me, but—oh.” Realization dawned in his eyes, and he struggled to sit up higher so that he could watch her every move. “You think that because you’re bonded to him, you will be able to use his healing powers.”

  “Bingo,” Bree said, casting a smile over her shoulder as she crossed the room to Taveon’s bed. “If he can give me immortality through the bond, then surely he can give me any other power he might have.”

  But only silence met her ears this time. Rafe pursed his lips, and then shook his head. “I do not like this, Bree. Taveon is in a weakened state, and you have never done this before. What if it somehow harms you? I will not have you—”

  But Bree had already begun to block out his argument. She knew there was always a risk attached to trying something new, especially in the Dark Fae realm. But Rafe was injured, so much so that his breathing had become labored. Plus…she was more than a little intrigued to see if she could do it. She’d never enjoyed her ability to transform into a deadly beast, but being able to heal someone? That was the kind of power she truly wished she could wield.

  Bree stepped up beside Taveon’s bed, and she stared down at his unconscious form. He looked so peaceful like this, like he was far away from all the horror and danger of Underworld. A part of her wished they didn’t have to rip that peace away from him. But this was no kind of life to live, not being able to move, not being able to see, not being able to do anything except exist inside your own mind. If it wasn’t for Bree, Taveon would have no contact with the outside world. He would not even know if the rest of the realm even existed anymore. And, he would have no one to talk to. He would be trapped inside his own mind forever.

  Bree wasn’t about to let that happen.

  As she stared down at his handsome face, she let every wall between them drop away. In her day-to-day life, Bree forced herself to keep barriers between their minds. It was too much, knowing that Taveon could feel and hear everything that she did. It was the only way to keep some element of herself as hers and hers alone. Wall after wall dropped away, and the very essence of Taveon filled her mind. Strength, power, and a deep kindness that he kept hidden from everyone else. He wanted the Court to think he was hard and cold like his father, but he wasn’t. If anything, Taveon was the total opposite of everything King Midas had always been. Probably because Taveon had never really been Midas’s son in the first place.

  “Bree,” Taveon said into her mind, a smile echoing through his words. Bree stared down at his face, slack and still and peaceful. His lips didn’t move an inch, but there was no mistaking the lighthearted expression he wanted to show her for her arrival into his mind. Her heart squeezed tigh
t, and a twinge of guilt ran through her. He was probably lonely. He’d spent all these hours alone with nothing to do and no one to talk to. She needed to visit him more often.

  “Hi, Taveon.” She reached out and placed a soft hand on his arm. His skin was cool to the touch, as if he’d been dunked in a vat of ice. “How’s it going in there?”

  Bree tried keep her voice lighthearted, not wanting to scare him, though she knew the terror he would feel when he found out why she was here to see him.

  “Oh, you know,” Taveon said with a laugh. “I guess you could say I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Not much else for me to do. What I would give to have a conversation with anyone, even Lord Dagen. “

  Bree smiled and squeezed his arm. She wondered if he could feel it, even if he was in this weird, coma-like state. Through their bond, she swore she felt a hand on her skin and the light caress of fingers running up and down her arm. Bree stiffened, her core going tight. What was Taveon doing? Her heart raced, pounding out a frantic beat in her chest.

  “What’s wrong?” Taveon asked, and the feel of his fingers on her skin fell away. “Something has happened. You did not come here just to say hello, did you? You came here to ask something of me. You came here because something has happened to Rafe.”

  Taveon could sense exactly what she was feeling through the bond because she’d thrown away all the walls she kept erected between them. Now, there was nothing between them but thoughts and emotions and a million tiny memories that they’d had both together and apart. She could sense his past and his future in this moment right here all at once, and she knew he could sense the same in her. It was almost overwhelming in its intensity, and it was all she could do not throw up another wall, another barrier, another shield against the onslaught of Taveon in her mind.

  “Rafe has been hurt, and we came here to get your help.” Even in her mind, Bree’s voice trembled.

  Sorrow rushed down the bond, and she could practically feel Taveon trying to push through the curse, to force himself out of his coma. He was pounding against invisible walls, trying to get out of his mind and back into the real world.