Warrior Fae Princess

by Breene, K. F.

  But Karen had been right about something else: this went against everything he wanted. Because Charity was all he could ever want. He loved her with his whole person, now more than ever. To see her shine in her element was a rare treat that he would savor for the rest of his life. As she climbed the steps onto the platform where her family waited, she looked back at him, her smile bright, her eyes brighter. Even now, she thought of him.

  He would do the same for her.

  He ignored the pain and clapped along. Tonight, he’d say goodbye with his body.

  Tomorrow would be the first day of the rest of their lives.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “I did it!” Charity threw her arms around Devon, joy bubbling up through her and exploding all around her in the form of her magic. She’d mostly balanced it now, only needing help occasionally when a particularly powerful surge came through. “I won! I’m a complete outsider, I didn’t know any of the fruits and veggies when I started, and still I won the whole thing.” She couldn’t smile big enough to express her excitement. Her father and grandmama, too, had been beside themselves pleased. “I earned a place here.”

  She unpeeled herself from Devon’s front for a moment so she could lean back and look at his handsome face.

  “Of course you did,” he said, pride shining in his eyes. He traced her jaw with this thumb. “I knew you would.”

  “Was Dillon here? I don’t remember seeing him,” she said. Everyone else had already headed back to their lodgings, leaving Devon to wait for her.

  “He and Macy…” Devon shrugged, an uncomfortable expression racing across his face. In a moment, it was gone. “You hungry?”

  She frowned. Were Macy and Dillon having problems? Charity had let the competition consume her, not to mention the worry that it would be broken up at any moment by a flaming demon barreling through. Now that it was over, she needed to reconnect with her friends.

  “No, I’m good,” she said as he intertwined their fingers and led her out of the competition area. People smiled at her as she passed, congratulating her on her completely unexpected win. “I ate the food from the other competitors.”

  “Are you okay to just go home, or are you expected somewhere?” Devon asked.

  She responded in the affirmative, and they turned the corner onto the cobblestone path that led to her temporary housing, but his choice of words stuck with her.

  Home.

  Karen’s words came floating back to her: “When you find your true home, you will know it.”

  Night shrouded them as they ambled along the cobblestone path, the darkness brightened only by the dancing fairy lights above the hedges. Charity pushed in close to Devon, and he wrapped one of his big arms around her shoulders as she took in the beautiful scenery and well-maintained houses. Her dad’s beautiful garden designs gave the place a peaceful serenity. The blooming flowers warmed her soul, something she’d never really thought flowers could do. The crawling vines, turning fences green, softened even the harsh boundaries.

  But really, they were just gardens. Devon could have something like this at his house, surrounded as he was with nature. Now that they knew what was possible, the right gardener could probably enhance the natural beauty of his property.

  No, the surroundings, beautiful as they were, weren’t what made this place special. So what did?

  My father. My grandmother. An entire village of people who want to get to know me. In the Brink, I only have a mother, and she ran out on me.

  She slid her gaze to the ruggedly handsome man walking beside her with an easy, sure step and a powerful, robust body. A man who had been through hell and back to protect her. A man who she believed would do anything to make her happy.

  She didn’t just have a mother in the Brink, she had Devon. She had his pack. Hell, she even had Roger. Their loyalty was beyond anything she’d ever experienced. Beyond anything she might’ve read about in a book or seen on TV. It was real, and she’d be lost without them. She knew that now. They hadn’t just saved her life—they’d saved her. They’d given her a bigger picture. She wasn’t alone anymore—hadn’t been since she’d stumbled out of that vampire-infested house without a clue.

  When push came to shove, she’d be lost without Devon. He held her heart. Home for her wasn’t a where. It was a who. It was Devon and all the people associated with him.

  How did that fit with what Karen had Seen? Was Charity supposed to convince Devon and his pack to stay in the Flush? Because the guardians were entrenched. They weren’t leaving. Which was madness, because she wasn’t sure they were really living. Their whole genetic makeup was rooted in protecting others, and yet here they stayed, practicing fighting with no risk, and doodling around with hobbies. She knew it helped their balance, but so would battling a foe or throwing dirt clods. After getting even a small hold on her magic, she wasn’t sure her dad’s explanation of the natural releases really jibed. It sounded made up, like it was a placeholder for their real magical balance: protecting others. Their job. The root of their freaking name.

  They were denying their natural urges to kick ass so they could play with gardens and make tables for superfluous, though enjoyable, competitions. It was incredibly frustrating. They were wasting their talents!

  And since she was officially a member with high status, now she could raise that concern. It was about time.

  What had happened to her people?

  “What?” Devon asked, probably hearing her scoff.

  “Nothing. What are you guys up to tomorrow? What do you think about a picnic—”

  “Fantastic, Third,” a beaming woman said as she passed. She squeezed Charity’s shoulder. “The best I can remember.”

  “Thank you,” Charity said, smiling back. The woman walked on without seeming to notice Devon.

  Charity frowned, glancing back at the woman. It wasn’t like these people to be rude. At least not in an obvious way. Their rudeness was hidden in nuances that Charity usually missed or didn’t understand.

  “Do you know that woman?” she asked Devon.

  “No, why?”

  “You might’ve been a ghost to her. Is all the fornicating between your pack and the fae giving you guys a bad name?”

  He shrugged, apparently unconcerned, but his muscles bunched for just a moment. Tension worked into his shoulders before he sighed and released it.

  She’d opened her mouth to ask about it when he said, “You really outdid yourself, you know.” He squeezed her and turned the corner to the lane that ran in front of her house. “Some of those flavors tasted weird, and still it was the best food you’ve ever made.”

  She snuggled into him. “Thanks. It’s probably silly in the grand scheme of things, but I was stressing really hard about it. I just want to earn my place, you know? Demons might be infiltrating the Brink, and Lucifer himself might be waiting for me to leave this place, but for once, I just wanted to show I belonged somewhere.”

  “You do.” He squeezed her again. “You do belong here.”

  Kairi stood by the front door. She offered a thumbs-up, something she’d learned from Charity and did constantly now.

  “Excellent work, Third.” She pulled the door open, giving Devon a nod in hello.

  Charity was relieved to see it. “Thanks,” she said, as much for the inclusive greeting as the compliment. Devon guided her in front of him, his hand on her lower back.

  “I like that,” Kairi said to Devon, stalling him.

  He caught Charity’s hand to keep her close. “What’s that?”

  “You let her enter first. Or you hold the door open for her. All of you shifter males do that, it seems. All except the dimwitted middle-aged wolf with the scar.”

  Charity huffed out a laugh. She meant Dale.

  “They call it being a gentleman in the Brink,” he told her. “It’s a sign of respect.”

  She nodded at him, turning back to the street. “I like it. It made me feel special when the lion did it for me earlier. I shoul
dn’t have punched him.”

  “Why—” Devon shook his head and kept walking through the door. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

  Charity shut the door behind them. “I meant to ask her why she is still hanging around when I have a firm grasp on my magic now.”

  “She’s your assistant, isn’t she? Set to guard you?” Devon gathered her into his arms and traced her jaw with his lips. “Though how she could protect you better than you could protect yourself, I don’t know.”

  “We can’t always protect ourselves, as you well know from the journey here. But I don’t need her. I have you,” she whispered, letting her eyes flutter closed. “And no one mentioned an assistant to me.”

  “They probably did through their bodily sign language.”

  She sighed as he kissed down her neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire across her skin. “I’m going to need a tutor in that, I think. It’s exhausting trying to figure out what everyone is really trying to say.”

  He swung her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. “You’ll get it eventually.”

  He laid her down on the bed and leaned over her, running his hand along the inside of her thigh, pushing up her dress as he did so.

  “You have more faith in me than I do— Hmm, Devon.” She arched back as he slipped his fingers into her panties. “Did you like the dress?”

  “I loved the dress. You were a vision tonight, baby. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

  She turned her back to him, and he unbuttoned the fabric. A moment later, the dress lay on the floor. She’d thought the dress a little weird herself, but given what he’d just said, she didn’t plan to mention that.

  “Make love to me, Devon,” she whispered, pushing his robe over his head and tossing it to the floor.

  “Your wish is my command.”

  She expected his lips on hers to be hungry. To celebrate her win and exalt in her joy. Instead, he was slow and reverent, touching her as delicately as if she were one of the china cups she’d served tea in.

  He moved between her thighs and wrapped her in his arms, running his length along her wetness. Her breathing turned heavy, and she arched toward him, catching him just right. He plunged in to the hilt, gloriously filling her to bursting.

  She groaned against his lips, savoring the feel of him. Soaking in the rightness of his body within hers. She was certain he was the one. He was the last man there would ever be for her.

  “I love you,” she said, and a tear slipped down her face.

  “I will love you forever, Charity,” he replied, his voice filled with emotion. “Never doubt me. The love I feel for you will never dim. I will always do what’s best for you. I will always protect you.”

  She stilled, her arms around him, somewhat confused by the gravity in his tone. But a moment later, the moment swept her away.

  He pulled back and pushed forward, so good at sensing what she needed. He thrust again, and she arched to receive him, desperate now, wanting all of him. Wanting his body to imprint on her as heavily as his heart had.

  His arms held her close. She clung to him, swinging up her hips to meet his downward thrusts. Her labored breathing rang through the room. Her body wound up, impossibly tight.

  “Yes, Devon,” she said, ecstasy washing through her, pulling her under.

  He crashed into her again and again, his control obviously slippery, hers nonexistent.

  She wanted more of him, all of him. She swiveled her hips and moaned as he pounded into her. The pleasure was so sharp that it cut. So heartfelt that it nearly tore her in two.

  Without warning, bliss slammed into her. She cried out from the onslaught of the orgasm. Wave after wave of glorious pleasure rolled through her, lifting her to a place where there were no words, just feeling.

  Devon groaned, shuddering. He thrust one last time, and another barrage of sensations made the world go fuzzy. She clung to him and squeezed her eyes shut, her teeth clenched and her body tight, riding the tidal wave of pleasure.

  Devon relaxed on top of her and buried his face in her neck. She kept her arms around him, loving this feeling of absolute certainty that had engulfed her being.

  Finally, she knew what she wanted.

  Finally, she had found her home.

  Contented, she breathed a deep sigh, closed her eyes, and drifted into a deep sleep. Tomorrow, she’d finally pay a visit to the shifters’ lodgings, and together they’d figure out what came next for all of them.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Devon twirled the strand of reddish-brown hair between his fingers. Inky night could be seen from the window, the glow from the moon soft upon the ground. Charity’s deep, even breathing spoke to her contentment.

  After a small nap, they’d gone for round two, and immediately moved into round three. He’d wanted to savor every moment and get his fill.

  He was an idiot. He’d never be able to get his fill of Charity. It was stupid to even try.

  He breathed in the smell of her, floral, spicy, and feminine. It occurred to him that she embodied this place better than the people within it did. Most of the time she was kind, gentle, open-minded, and willing to compromise—but when she flipped and turned on her aggression, watch out. She was a perfect storm.

  He loved her more than words could say. More than he’d thought possible. It was why this was so damn hard.

  He kissed her on the forehead and his heart broke. Still, he forced himself to roll out of bed. Even if the Seer hadn’t advised this path for him, he knew it was the right thing to do. She was destined for greatness—for royalty and leading her people back to their purpose. He couldn’t let her strap herself to him and waste this opportunity. He was a mid-level alpha relegated to one part of the world. It was no place for a girl like her.

  She belonged here in the Realm. In the Flush.

  His eyes stung, tears threatening. He wanted to punch something. He half wished Hallen was waiting outside. One last shot at that asshole would at least give him an outlet.

  Kairi offered him a sad smile when he let himself out.

  “Don’t you get a break?” Devon asked her, willing his feet to move. Willing himself to follow through with this…with leaving her.

  “Not tonight,” Kairi said softly, looking out over the quiet path. “You know, I could have stopped Charity from fighting you on the battlefield last week. I was there in time to intervene, and duty said I should’ve. Instead, I watched. Fascinated.”

  “That right?”

  She nodded, scanning the path like she was ready for an attack. “I’ve watched how your pack has handled being treated lesser. Like something that should be banished but propriety dictates that it can’t.”

  “From the sidelines, huh?”

  “Yes.” If she was embarrassed by that fact, she gave no sign. “I’ve watched how the Third handles all the attention. It makes her uncomfortable. She must have been a loner in the past, while your pack is used to being respected. It is a role reversal, this journey, is it not?”

  He smirked. “You could say that.”

  “Yet she rose to the occasion, and so did you.”

  He frowned, fighting the desire to go back in and say goodbye to Charity one last time. “How did we rise to the occasion? We’ve been like ghosts.”

  “Yes. Against your nature, you accepted your position here. I’ve seen you battle, in real settings, not just practice. There is a ferocity in you that calls to me. It begs me to join you. When Charity fought, it took everything in my power to keep myself from running to her side. Yet, day to day, when you were so badly disrespected, you held your peace. You grieve for your lost, but you hold your heads high. It must’ve taken a great deal of self-restraint.”

  “We aren’t animals; we merely turn into them.” The words carried a little of the bite he’d held back.

  “You are fierce warriors that can display self-restraint for someone you value highly. It was noticed. It has lent Miss Charity, the Third Arcana, more stat
us, if that were possible. As has your prowess on the battlefield. You have helped her more than I think you realize.”

  “That was our duty.”

  She laughed softly. “Exactly. You have shown us what it means to follow one’s duty for the greater good.”

  He shook his head, confused as to what she was getting at.

  It was no longer his problem.

  “We’re leaving. Take care of her.” He stepped away before stopping, pain ripping him apart. “She won’t take this well. Please, comfort her. Tell her I didn’t leave because of her, it was…” He didn’t know if he was allowed to tell Kairi about what the Seer had told him. So he just said, “It was Fate.”

  Before he could take it back, Kairi said, “Fate. What a bullshit meddler, eh? Always screwing things up.”

  Some emotion he couldn’t place rang in her tone. A spark lit her eyes. Again, he wasn’t sure what she was getting at. It struck him that this confusion was something Charity experienced all the time around the fae. Around his pack, too.

  “Help her,” he said, starting away.

  “That is my duty, and I will perform it as you would,” she called after him.

  The others waited for him outside the cabins, all but Steve in shifter form. The two mages waited off to the side, and the Red Prophet stood with them, dressed in a bright pink robe.

  “We’re out,” he said, making a circle in the air with his pointer finger.

  “They’re not going.” Steve tilted his head at the mages.

  Devon didn’t really care, so he nodded.

  “But she is,” Penny said, tilting her elbow to indicate the Red Prophet.

  Devon hesitated. “Why?”

  “Without me, your blood will make the elves a lovely new print of wallpaper,” she said with a grin. “I know the way and, more importantly, when to take which path. In return, you will feed me. I can handle the fire; you just need to make the kill.”