Revealed

by Riana Lucas

  I flash my toothy, feral smile at them all. “Let’s go.”

  Gideon and Thorn break away immediately and make their way to the outer edges of the throne room. I turn to face the massive doors before me. The Unseelie are trying to make their way into the room, but the Seelie warriors are holding them back. I glance back at Holly on my left. She has her bow at the ready and an arrow nocked. Before I can blink, she squints her eyes and lets one fly. I turn to follow the progress and watch it imbed itself into the heart of one of the Unseelie. He falls dead to the ground. The Seelie Fae he was fighting turns without any hesitation to the next threat. These warriors are good.

  I turn back to my right and look at Reed. He has drawn his night sword and looks fierce and deadly with it. His eyes focus on me with a look that I cannot decipher. Reed has changed so much since I first met him, no longer looking like the same Halfling who fought beside me in the forest against Holly. He is not even the same Halfling who fought his way out of the Unseelie Court. The events of the past few weeks have changed him dramatically. The Fae in him has become dominant, and his instinct to protect and fight has kicked in. His features are much more Fae than Halfling, causing him to be even more handsome than he ever was before. We stare into each other’s eyes for only a moment longer, then by silent agreement, we both turn to face the doors. We brace ourselves as we begin to make our way toward our enemy.

  As we approach the doors, the crowd seems to part for us. All of the Fae are engaged in battle, but they seem to sense our presence and clear the way for us. We pass a few fights, Reed and Holly both reaching out to assist — Holly shooting another enemy in the chest or back as Reed slashes at their chest and necks with his majestic sword. I step over the bodies of the fallen Fae, taking note that most are not my own but saddened by the fact that a few are. The floor is beginning to turn from white to red, but my focus remains on the doors. Damien is back there, waiting. His warriors will clear the way, making it easy for him. I do not plan to allow that. This will not be easy for him, and he will not be victorious.

  When we are only a few feet from the threshold, I see Damien make his way through the fighting warriors with a smirk on his face. His premature satisfaction makes my blood boil. My grip tightens on my daggers, and I cannot help reacting as my instincts take over and I attack.

  As fast and hard as I can, I hurl the dagger in my left hand at him. It pierces his left shoulder, sinking to the hilt. Damien stops in his tracks and looks down at the dagger protruding from his shoulder. He grips it in his hand and yanks it out. Once in his hand, he looks down at the dagger and recognizes it as mine. His head snaps up. When our eyes meet, I see a look of such hatred in his eyes, and I know he sees the same reflected in mine. I narrow my eyes at him as I let out a battle cry, and then I leap into the air toward Damien.

  His guards try to intercept my attack, but Reed and Holly are there, engaging them in a fierce battle. Reed and Holly have formed a hatred for Damien that is nearly as strong as mine. The sound of metal slicing through flesh as well as growls of anger and grunts of pain paired with crimson rivers forming on the floor make for a vicious and bloody scene. However, between the two of them, they are able to take on all six of Damien’s guards, allowing me direct access to Damien.

  My right hand moves, the dagger slashing straight toward his heart. Damien blocks the blade with his forearm. The steel makes contact with his skin, slicing through the top layer of skin, only deep enough to make him bloodier. I have a second to revel in my satisfaction before he counters my blow with one of his own — using the dagger he pulled from his shoulder.

  My dagger.

  This infuriates me even further. “I will not be cut by my own weapon!” I snarl harshly as I block the blow and quickly duck to dodge his fist coming from the other side. Damien is not holding back, but neither am I. Still crouched on the ground, I reach my right foot out and try to sweep his legs out from under him, but with typical Fae-like relexes, he jumps over them and out of my reach once again. I spin swiftly just in time and feel his fist connect with the left side of my face. The blow catches me off guard, causing me to stumble back just a step, knocking into someone. I look back to see Holly pushing me forward, helping to keep my balance. The hatred and determination I see in her eyes pushes me forward. With a quick nod, I turn back to face Damien.

  My head throbs, and my ears are ringing from the blow Damien dealt me, but my determination to repay it is doubled. I jump at him with everything in me. He again raises my own dagger at me, but I reach out and grab his wrist, twisting it so my dagger slips from his grasp. Reaching out, I grip it in my hand but Damien follows the movement and slashes at me with his sword. I bring up both daggers to block the blow. The sound of the clanging metal vibrates through my body.

  We freeze with both of our arms in the air, sword to daggers. Our breaths come out sharply as we both strain to gain the upper hand. Sweat drips from my face, and my gaze locks with his. Normally my strength would not match his, but my determination more than makes up for it. He may want this but it is for selfish reasons. My determination stems from the need to protect my friends, my family, and my people. This increases my strength to levels neither of us has ever seen before. This is clear by the hint of surprise in Damien’s eyes. He did not expect me to match him.

  “Well, well, well. It looks as if my sweet Poppy has learned a thing or two. Not bad, darling,” Damien tries to say sarcastically, but the strain in his voice diminishes its effect.

  I narrow my eyes at him but do not speak. My focus will not waiver, and I will not allow him to bait me. His blood is what I want and not just the small amount that I drew with my daggers. I want to see him lifeless, bleeding out on the floor at my feet.

  “I always knew you had it in you. If I would have known killing your little friend would bring out this fire, I would have done it long ago.” He grins at me, all teeth, razor sharp and pure evil.

  A deep growl escapes my throat, but I keep my concentration. I know what he is trying to do, and I refuse to allow him into my head. Rho’s death may be what drives me, but I will not allow him to use it against me. My daggers stays firmly gripped in my hands although my palms begin to sweat and the strain from holding him back is causing my arms to throb in pain.

  Damien does not get the hint and keeps talking over the noise of the battle still happening around us. “Why are we fighting anyway? There really is no reason for this. You can join me. Help me defeat the queen, and then you can pick which Court you want to take over. I will rule the other. I raised you, Poppy. I know what a wonderful queen you would make. Besides, think of all the possibilities. To have two Unseelie rulers, taking over all of Faery Land? Just imagine how wonderful that would be.”

  I snort to show my disagreement and disgust, still straining against his sword with my daggers. The sound of the others fighting around me continues, and no one has tried to stop or help either one of us. They are all as equally engaged in battle as we are. My arms begin to grow weak, though, so I send a silent prayer that one of my friends is able to come to my aid soon.

  Something in my eyes must reflect my vulnerability, because Damien pounces on it. “Just think, Poppy.” This time his voice is hushed, almost wistful. “We could rule all of Faery Land. There would be no dominating king or soft queen. We are both so strong. We could rule it all just how we wish.”

  I can no longer keep my mouth shut. “I would never rule anything beside you!” I shout, so furious that he would try to talk to me like this after all that he has done, spit flies out of my mouth.

  He lets out a dramatic sigh. “Well, if you really feel that way.” Then he pulls his sword back as he takes a leap backwards. The action is so sudden that I am caught completely off guard, and I stumble forward, my knee hitting the hard, marble floor. I wince at the pain but scramble to stand back up. When I do I find the tip of Damien’s sword pointed straight at my throat.

  Chapter Three

  I feel the tip of his sword graz
ing the skin at my throat, and then I feel the warmth and wetness of the blood as it beads where he pricked my skin. Damien’s sword is so sharp that it draws blood with just a mere touch

  “So what now?” I ask, trying to sound calm as I try to tame the shakiness of my voice. This is very difficult, considering I already know the answer. Damien came here to kill me. All of his talk of ruling together, of my being able to have my pick of whatever Court I wished, of making the perfect Faery Land was just that — nothing but talk. Even if I had agreed to any of it, I have no doubt that as soon as my back was turned, Damien would be there to plunge my own dagger right into the middle of it.

  “Now, I kill you,” he says in a calm, almost soothing tone that belies his words.

  My heart drops. I already knew my death was upon me, but hearing it out loud makes it so final.

  I stare him in the eye, forcing him to face me and what he is about to do. No amount of pleading will do any good. He has already proven his betrayal and hatred for me. There are no sentimental feelings for me hidden somewhere deep inside. Damien is a cold-blooded killer who only cares for himself, and he will kill anyone who gets in the way of his goals.

  Right now I am in his way. I am the heir to the Unseelie throne, the king’s daughter, and the Princess of the Unseelie Court. Although I have no desire to rule that Court, I also have no desire to see Damien ruling it. He knows this just as well as he knows that the only way to claim that seat is to kill me.

  “Drop your weapons,” he says with a look of triumph.

  I refuse to break eye contact as I do what he commands, knowing there is no other choice. The sound of metal hitting marble reaches my ears, the loud clatter making my heart sink at the loss of my daggers. My brain works frantically to formulate a quick plan, but things are happening so fast that it is difficult to think beyond Damien’s harsh commands and my own desperation. I can still hear my friends engrossed in their own battles around me, and although I am sure they can see what is taking place, they are just as helpless as I am.

  “On your knees.” His voice is smug. It grates on every nerve in my body as I continue to stare defiantly at him. I may have dropped my weapons, but I will not bow at his feet and allow him to kill me. He will have to work for my death.

  “I said on your knees!” Some of the smugness is gone from his tone, and his anger is taking over. Damien has never liked to be defied. Still, I only stare.

  His eyes darken, and his nostrils flare in fury. “You want to make this hard, do you? Fine!” He keeps the sword firmly at my throat as he moves closer to me. I do not dare move, knowing that one wrong move will cause a severe, if not fatal wound to my neck. But there is a small satisfaction in the fact that I have angered him, and I am still making him work for my death.

  When he stands before me, close enough that our bodies almost touch, he leans in, putting his mouth to my ear. I wait for whatever words he is going to yell at me, but instead he reaches up with his free hand and touches the end of my braid. He grabs the very end of it with gentle fingers and begins to wrap it around his hand slowly until he has reached the top of my head. Then he yanks my head back with enough force that my vision blurs and my eyes water. The move also fully exposes my neck. Now he finally speaks to me.

  “I am going to enjoy this more than you can ever know, Princess!”

  Damien roughly pushes on the top of my head, trying to force me to my knees. I keep my eyes cast downward, watching the sword at my neck. As hard as I try to resist, the threat of that sharp blade wins, and I let out a small, involuntary whimper that causes Damien to chuckle. Then my knees slowly unlock, allowing Damien to shove me to the ground. My mind churns, trying to come up with one last, desperate attempt to save my own life. As it does, my eyes scan the floor around me until they come to rest on my daggers laying at Damien’s feet. If I can reach them, I can thrust them both up into his chest and kill him here and now. But just as I complete the thought, Damien kicks my daggers across the floor where I hear them hit the wall on the other side of the room.

  Closing my eyes in defeat, I take a deep breath and try to accept my fate. When I open them again, I see that things have only gotten worse. Damien is now flanked by two of his guards. They are bloody and bruised, but they are armed and ready as well. Then I look back at Damien and notice that his posture has stiffened and his eyes have narrowed, but he is not looking at me. He is looking behind me. That is when I hear the soft footsteps and sense the presence of those approaching us. I am not sure who all is there, but I know that Reed is. I can always sense him when he is near, but I do not question this now. Instead I allow myself to hope, just a little, that I might not die.

  “Get your sword away from her neck. Now!” The growl is low and threatening, and it sends a shiver of fear through me. Although I know that it is Reed making the demand and that his anger is directed at Damien, the fury and threat in his voice are unrecognizable and menacing. I have never heard this tone from Reed, but I know without a doubt how serious the unspoken threat is.

  “Ah! What do we have here? A rescue party? You don’t look as if you can lift that sword in your hand, much less strike me with it, boy. Do you really expect me to heed your warning?” Damien smiles mockingly at Reed, and I have to force myself not to turn and look at him. The thought of Reed injured so badly that he could not lift his sword is terrifying. I remind myself that he is standing behind me and his voice is still strong. As far as reassurances go, it is all I need. I focus my attention back to Damien.

  “As you can see, he is not alone. Do you really intend to fight all of us with just two guards?” This time it is Holly who speaks. Her voice is soft and musical, but there is an underlying threat as well.

  Damien’s eyes move around quickly, taking in his surroundings and calculating his odds with just a glance. He looks down at me again with a sly smile. “I could just cut her throat now, and there is nothing any of you could do about it.” His voice is soft, and although he addresses the others, I know that he is speaking to me alone.

  “Yes, but then I would kill you, and you would never get to sit on the Throne of the Unseelie Court,” Reed answers back just as softly. “We couldn’t have that now, could we?” Reed’s taunting voice is strong, but I hear something else in his voice that I am sure none of the others can. I hear the pain that he is hiding so well behind the tightness in his voice. It is as if I can almost feel it. Reed has been injured, and if Damien does not release me soon, I fear it may be too late to help him. Allowing my fear to guide me, I speak before thinking.

  “If you let me go now, I will vow to stop anyone from harming you as you leave this Court. Once you set foot off Seelie territory, the vow is satisfied and broken.” I look him in the eye, willing him to take the deal. Not wanting him to catch on to the fact that I am doing this out of desperation, I add softly, “But know this. The next time we meet, I will kill you.”

  Damien glances around again. I can see the wheels turning as he gauges his odds at killing me and then fighting his way out. He must not think it likely, because he meets my eyes once again, lips tight and eyes narrowed. With a quick nod, he demands, “So be it. Make the vow.”

  “I, Poppy, Princess of the Seelie and Unseelie Court,” I make sure to put the proper emphasis on my titles so he cannot mistake who exactly I am now, “vow to allow no harm to come to you, Damien, servant of the Unseelie Court, until your feet have reached the neutral ground of the Faery Forest.” Then I let a wicked smile play at my lips. “Then all bets are off.”

  Damien is quiet for a moment, staring into my eyes before he finally whispers, “Yes, they are, Poppy. I will see you again. Soon.” He jerks his sword from my throat and turns quickly to flee the throne room, his two guards following behind him.

  I wait until I am sure Damien is far from me before I sag to the ground, taking deep breaths to try and still my racing heart. Reed follows me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me into a tight hug. “You scared me to death! Are you
okay?”

  I try to answer, but I cannot over the threat of a sob working its way up my throat. Attempting to hold it back, I nod my head to reassure Reed that I am fine, but I am not sure if I really am. In all the battles I have ever had, I have never come so close to death, never felt so helpless, and certainly never had to stare at my executioner as he dealt the final blow. To have come so close was utterly terrifying.

  “Are you sure? You’re shaking, Poppy.” He pulls me tighter. I hear mumbling behind me, and then there are more arms and hands on me.

  The scent of my mother reaches me right away. It is soothing, and I immediately begin to calm, realizing that she cannot see me this way. If she does, she will never let me out of her sight again. Especially if she thinks that I am injured. As I pull myself together and straighten from Reed’s embrace, I look up to give him a reassuring smile but gasp instead.

  His face is battered, and there is blood all over his shirt. I pull myself up on my knees quickly and begin to look him over. “Reed! Are you okay? Where are you injured?” My hands flutter all over his face, head, shoulders, and chest. I am not sure where he is hurt and am afraid to touch anything in fear of causing further pain. He winces and eases back on his butt to lean against the nearby wall.

  “How come I’m always the one that gets hurt trying to save you?” His attempt at humor makes me smile, because I know that he must not be too badly hurt if he is making jokes. I hear a few chuckles from above us and look up to see who is there. My mother, Thorne, and Holly stand together watching us. The queen looks beautiful, as always, and although Thorne and Holly have a bit of blood on them and a few bruises blooming, they look fine. I look around for Gideon, but I do not see him. My heart drops, and I begin to stand.