Warrior Fae Princess

by Breene, K. F.

  “What’s his skill set?” Macy asked.

  “Candle making,” Emery said, picking up a candle from the shelf near his head. “The way he uses colors and smells is masterful, I guess.”

  “That’s what he’s heralded for? Candle making?” Andy said. “He can fight and make candles and suddenly he’s better than Devon?”

  “Devon can’t make candles,” Rod said. “He can just fight.”

  “I’m sure he could make candles if he wanted to,” Andy replied. “He could rock this place with candles. Do you know why he doesn’t? Because scented candles are only good for stinky bathrooms.”

  Macy and Penny burst out laughing. Emery pulled over a chair from the small round table and stationed it between Yasmine at the window and Andy’s bed on the floor. He sat and looked out the window, keeping watch. What from, Andy had never bothered to ask. Emery wasn’t used to relaxing when he was in the Realm. Old habits…

  “Where’s Steve?” Emery asked.

  “He was going to go pick a fight with someone who pissed him off earlier,” Rod said, dumping the carrots on steroids into a pot over a magical blue flame.

  “That’s the other thing.” Andy pointed at the flame. “Other types of fae make useful things. Like that flame. It’s used for cooking and lighting—useful. But not these fae. Their job is fighting. That’s their whole identity.” He made quotes with his fingers. “Guardians.” He dropped his hands. “But what are they guarding, way out here in no man’s land? They’re removed from the rest of their kind. You know, the useful fae. They are fighters…who only practice fighting. They sit here, ignoring the world, not doing what it is they’re supposed to be doing, and yet we’re the gross ones? We’re the dirty, brutish race that is a stain on their society?”

  “You should tell them that,” Macy murmured.

  “How could I? They pretend like I don’t exist, unless one of them is dared to bang me, and then she’s not interested in chatter, she just wants my dong.” That comment got a smile from Emery, his first in a while. Too bad Andy hadn’t been joking. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “I’m losing my mind here. How long do you think until we can go home?”

  “When Devon realizes he’ll have to make a choice and stay here with Charity, or leave without her,” Yasmine said softly, staring out the window, “he’s going to stay. I know it.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “I hope you know how lucky you are that you were invited,” Hallen said to Devon. The fae stood just outside an arch made of vines and flowers, leading into the greatly anticipated cooking competition, as Devon and his pack approached.

  Charity had been stressing about this for the last week. She’d sampled all of the local cuisine, learning what the people here liked. She tried all the drinks, too, breaking her rule and even trying alcoholic beverages. And she pored over the ingredients Kairi brought her, familiarizing herself with the unfamiliar. She was at a major disadvantage, not knowing what flavors appealed to people, and everyone knew it. Her family had made it clear they didn’t expect her to win, something Devon had to give them props for. They merely wanted to see if she had potential.

  Charity wasn’t one to do things by halves, though. She intended to win the whole thing. Devon had never been prouder of her.

  He’d also never been so terrified for the future. With each passing day, Devon watched as Charity fell a little more in love with the Flush. She belonged here. She was welcomed, and loved, and people smiled as she approached. Laughed at her jokes. She was blending into their community perfectly—her sweet nature, tempered with the bite of steel, matched that of her peers.

  She was drifting away from Devon’s way of life.

  Devon stopped beside Hallen. “Any time you want to challenge me, I’m right here.” His voice was low and rough, anger brimming just below the surface.

  Hallen scoffed and looked away. Devon had proven his prowess on their battlefield. He’d worked his way up the competition, allowed to compete in his wolf form. He’d only been beaten by two people: Halvor and his wife. Hallen didn’t stand a chance, and they both knew it.

  “Think Charity knows they’re trying to set her up with that joker?” Andy murmured as they walked into a grassy area surrounded by little glowing orbs. Shrubbery surrounded the enclosure, and tiny glowing creatures, like lightning bugs, fluttered along the tops, creating dancing light. Excellently crafted, highly polished round tables dotted the grass, adorned by elaborate flower centerpieces and surrounded by silk-draped chairs. It looked like a setup for a wedding, or some other swanky affair.

  Devon glanced down at his robe, horribly plain compared with the artful embroidery and shimmering fabric worn by the other attendees. The costuming people were clearly identifying Devon’s pack as outsiders, as if that hadn’t already been sufficiently drilled into them.

  “No,” Devon said, spotting a table at the very corner, somewhat removed from the others. That would be for his pack. At least the table was of the same quality as the rest. “She’s completely blind to it. She thinks he’s just like Kairi—an assistant. Someone to help her find her way and keep her magic level. She doesn’t realize they have an ulterior motive.”

  His pack followed him through the fancy setup. This would be the first time Macy had seen Charity since they’d arrived. Macy hadn’t visited her at the bungalow for fear she’d be reduced to a puddle of tears. Being that everyone else had visited, had made excuses for Macy, and Charity was half-dead at day’s end, it had so far gone unnoticed.

  They all knew that after this, that would no longer be the case. Charity had been distracted, but a girl like her didn’t stay oblivious for long.

  “Charity thinks these people will accept me as her mate.” Devon huffed as he caught sight of the First Arcana, dressed in a robe embroidered with beads and gems. A sparkling tiara identified her status. “She seems to think they’re keeping us at arm’s length out of respect.”

  “If that’s the case, she’s got a long way to go before she acclimates to this place,” Steve said. Halvor had told him in no uncertain terms that he must wear clothes to this event. Unlike the others, he took great delight in being the fae ladies’ dirty little secret, the dirtier the better. “They are probably throwing shade at her, and she thinks they’re complimenting her.”

  “Probably,” Devon said. “And thank God. So far I’ve kept my cool every time that prick Hallen touches the small of her back, but only because I don’t want to mess this up for her. I’d like to rip that fucker’s arms off.”

  “Let her secure her place, then raise hell,” Steve said. “I like this place as much as the next guy, but I wouldn’t mind getting back to a nice steak and a bed I don’t have to literally roll out of.”

  “See? Didn’t I say I wasn’t the only one annoyed with the bed situation?” Andy said in triumph.

  The First noticed Devon, and her posture changed into one of expectation. She wanted to speak with him.

  His heart sank and his palms started to sweat. He knew why.

  “Go sit down,” he told his pack. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Alpha Shifter, hello,” the First said, her tiara catching and throwing the light. She stood in front of a raised platform holding a narrow table. The head table, no doubt, for the ruling party to look over their people. Charity would get a place at that table. She’d get a future that most magical people would kill for.

  Devon bowed. “First, thank you for inviting us.”

  “Charity expressly requested it.”

  Ah. So they were making an exception for Charity.

  “How magnanimous of you,” he said with a straight face and no bodily sign of his sarcasm.

  Her pursed lips said she read it anyway. “Yes. Quite.” Her smile was false. “You must be relieved this day has finally come.”

  “And what day is that, First?” he asked as her assistant, a hard-eyed man with impeccable posture, glided in behind her. He stopped a little too close to her, their
proximity speaking of an intimacy that wasn’t strictly professional. No one had mentioned what had happened to her husband. It was as though they didn’t speak of the dead, missing, or lost. Or maybe they just didn’t air their dirty laundry to strangers, and Charity was still one.

  “Why, the day your duty ends. After Charity’s role in our society has been decided, you’ll be free to seek your home. You must be missing it.”

  Devon’s heart jolted in his chest. And there it was. Spoken aloud as though it wasn’t the thing he’d been dreading since he’d heard Karen utter the words.

  “The time will come when you need to make a choice. To save Charity’s life—to give her a life—you must take the hard road, sacrifice your heart, and let her go.”

  “This is it, then,” he said to no one in particular. “This is the big deciding moment in Charity’s life.”

  The First’s continued smile was thin. She did not enjoy speaking with those of “lower status.” “This is it, yes. If things go badly here, Charity will, of course, always be welcome. She can stay as long as she likes—we will make room for her. Unfortunately, with no desirable skills, she will have her title stripped and a gravely reduced status. Her living situation will change somewhat for the worse. This is to be expected, for one who is only half fae.”

  “Your people are harsh, First.”

  Her eyes marginally narrowed. He’d spoken out of turn.

  He didn’t give a shit.

  “And if this goes well?” Devon asked, his heart beating too quickly and a sweat breaking out on his forehead. He felt eyes on him and noticed the Second standing somewhat removed, watching the interaction. Devon couldn’t read his expression or body language.

  “Then things will only improve for her. She will be celebrated as the Third Arcana and trained as part of our ruling force.”

  “And if the Second has a full-blooded heir?”

  “Do not trouble yourself with our politics, Shifter,” she said, her voice lowered, and shivers crawled up Devon’s spine. “They are far above your ability to comprehend.”

  “You’re awfully arrogant for someone with a warrior title and a penchant for hiding in the woods, away from danger.”

  Her eyes spat fire, but before she could respond, the Second was invading their group.

  “Tempers are running high.” The Second placed his hand on Devon’s arm. “Mother, let me escort him back to his table. This is a big day for everyone. We’re all feeling it.”

  After a long beat, the First said, “Of course. Please enjoy the competition, Alpha Shifter.”

  She didn’t have to say the next words, although her tone said it for her: Because it will be your last in the Flush.

  “Charity would be heartbroken if you weren’t here to see her big moment.” The Second slowly led Devon through the tables as people found their seats. They smiled and nodded at the Second, but no one acknowledged or even glanced at Devon. “It is hard to determine the best course of action in these situations. When I was in the Brink, the pull of the Flush became painful. I missed my people more than anything. I did not belong in the Brink. It was not the right place for me. And so, as much as it hurt, I left. I walked away from the love of my soul, from my beating heart, and have spent every day since regretting it, now more than ever.”

  The Second stopped next to Devon’s seat, patted his back, and walked away as the first participant emerged from the arch. Even the fae’s clapping was polite.

  “What was that about?” Rod asked.

  Devon watched the retreating back of the Second. “It sounded like he told me not to leave.”

  Macy and Yasmine frowned. Macy said, “He can’t expect you to stay here. Not with the way you’re treated.”

  “He’s been pushing Hallen at Charity—we’ve all seen it,” Andy added. “Why would he do that if he wanted you to hang around?”

  “He probably wants you to give Charity a choice,” Barbara said, leaning forward on her elbows to look across the table at Devon. “She’d go with you. Maybe she’d want to stay for a bit longer, but she’d leave this place with you.”

  “I agree,” Dale said. “Roger wants her back in the Brink. You can make that happen. I vote you tell her it’s time to go.”

  “You vote?” Devon said. “Since when is this pack a democracy?”

  Dale and Barbara both visibly shrank in their seats, one helluva change considering their initial hesitance to submit to him as alpha. Devon hardly gave it two thoughts, his mind swirling on what the Second had said. On what Barbara had said.

  He wanted to take Charity back with him so badly it hurt. He wanted her to officially move into his house and join his pack. He didn’t want her to lose all of this—the warrior fae, the Flush—but did it need to be her new reality? Couldn’t she come back for birthdays and Christmases, the way most people did with family?

  The thought of leaving her behind made him want to throw up. Made him want to rip the table in two and go on a killing spree.

  “You think she’d come back with me?” he asked softly, his hope so thick it was choking him.

  “Yes,” Yasmine said without hesitation. “This place is new, and she definitely likes it, but… She’d pick you. I bet you anything.”

  “She’d pick you in a heartbeat,” Steve said, lounging back as a plate was set in front of him.

  “She deserves a choice,” Barbara said. “A woman would at least want the choice.”

  Devon stared off in the distance. Barbara had a strong point. Charity would want the choice. Sure, Karen had said he should leave, but Seers had a way of getting things wrong. What if this was one of those things? He didn’t want to make the same mistake the Second had.

  He didn’t want to leave without the love of his soul.

  * * *

  “Here we go,” Andy said excitedly.

  Devon snapped out of his thoughts as a plate was cleared away from in front of him. Seven meals had come and gone and he hadn’t tasted one of them. But now, as Charity emerged from the arch, his thoughts fled and he snapped to focus.

  She didn’t wear the loose, flowing garments donned by everyone else. Her robe was cinched in like a dress, though it covered the same amount of skin. The embroidered silk flowed over her body. Gems and stones glittered as she walked, catching the dying rays of the afternoon. A small headband ran across her forehead, sparkling like her grandmother’s tiara.

  She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his entire life, and the sight of her was enough to suck the breath from his body.

  “Hello,” Charity said, stopping near the long table overlooking the green. Her family and their assistants had left a single space for her. Charity’s eyes roved through the crowd before stopping on Devon. Her relieved smile told him that she, at least, was pleased to see him. She needed his support. “I’ve done something a little different for you. We’re going to start with a sampling of tea, which is now making its way to you. Pick whichever one you want.”

  “I love that dress,” Macy murmured to Yasmine. “It’s a good compromise between the Brink and the Flush. Nice work.”

  Devon frowned at them. “You helped her, Yasmine?” he asked. How had he missed that?

  Yasmine shrugged. “She asked me about it a few days ago when I stopped by. I know my way around fashion.”

  “No contest,” Andy said as an assistant neared the table with a tray full of china. Each small plate bore a teacup and a biscuit. They were so delicate that they looked absurd in the male shifters’ hands.

  “Served with your tea is my take on a biscuit. It will stay good in your homes for three to four days and should complement any of the teas. You can serve these to company, or have them around as a snack. They’re also the perfect thing to serve as a stalling tactic if you have a guest who accidentally indicates she’ll stay for longer than you had anticipated, and you didn’t place a food order for her…”

  Laughter filled the place, everyone knowing Charity was making a joke about herse
lf.

  Dale stuffed the rest of a biscuit in his mouth. “That tea is no match for coffee, but these biscuits are fantastic.”

  “Next we have a small salad dish…”

  Devon watched the faces around him as Charity explained what came next: a sampling of a five-course meal, something she’d brought over from the Brink. Each dish was better than the last, so completely different to the things he was used to, and more delicious for it.

  “She’s got the plant life around here nailed,” Penny said, for she and Emery, as fellow outsiders, had been squished in with the rest of Devon’s pack. She munched through some sort of seed pancake. “If only she were a mage, we could really create some masterpieces together.”

  “You can just steal some of her magic for your spells,” Emery said. “She’s gotten the hang of it now, I hear.”

  “Well, yes, if Devon goes against my mother’s Sight and stays with her, sure.” Penny took a sip of a fruity, clear liquid in a blown glass goblet made especially for this dinner. The pack looked down at their hands. He’d told them of the session with Karen, and there were mixed views as to if he should believe it or not.

  “Nice subtlety,” Steve told her before winking.

  Upon tasting the main dish, the First closed her eyes in utter delight, and a proud smile lit up her face.

  All the feeling left Devon’s body.

  That was it. That smile was the nail in his coffin. Charity was in. This food, hands-down better than anyone else’s—better than anything he’d ever tasted—would grant her admission into the family. She was officially the Third Arcana. Officially a member of the ruling party of a magical people held in the utmost respect in the Realm.

  Officially on the road to lead a people and claim her mantle.

  What the hell was he doing, contemplating tearing her away from this? How selfish could a guy be?

  Karen had been wrong. The choice he faced wasn’t against his heart. It was the easiest choice in the world—he would do anything to grant Charity a lifetime of happiness. Anything. If that meant walking away and leaving his heart behind, so be it. He’d live with his pain to see her smile.