The Outlanders

by Erin Rhew

  Wil nodded. “Volton Holt said Crus and Ree were Seers. What if the Outlanders are Seers, but instead of seeing the future, they see the present?”

  Layla worried her lip some more. He wondered what went on inside a Vanguard’s mind. She seemed capable of calculating almost every angle of a situation. “It’s certainly possible. So, you are suggesting that the queen can somehow see us regardless of our location, and that’s why Mia won’t talk?”

  “Maybe.”

  Layla shivered. “That’s unnerving.”

  Wil cringed at the thought of someone observing his every move, spying without his permission. Could that really be the Outlander power? His gaze traveled over to Mia, sitting on a log staring into the fire Samson stoked. Hunkered down, with her arms wrapped around her waist, she looked sad and alone. Even Samson’s jokes did not rouse her. After a moment, she met his gaze. They stared at one another from across the fire.

  Chapter Twenty

  Wil

  Wil lay awake in his tent. The idea of someone watching them while they slept gnawed him. Though his mother had insisted he take guards, Wil refused. He assumed he, Samson, Grant, Layla, and Vespa would be able to provide protection enough for each other. But how could he protect against a Seer’s powers?

  Back at the castle, Layla mentioned Mia’s ability to resist Alterations. Did all Outlanders possess that power? If so, what real use would he and Vespa be in a fight? He took a deep, steadying breath. He needed to talk to Vespa and Layla to formulate a backup plan, should all Outlanders be resistant.

  A stirring sound drew his attention. When the flap of his tent rustled, Wil sat straight up. He reached for the sword he kept at his side.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s me. Layla.”

  He squinted in the darkness. She held a candle up to her face, and he relaxed. He watched her place the candle in a holder next to the tent opening and cover it with glass to contain the flame. Her hands shook as she worked, which he found both odd and endearing.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes.” Her voice hitched. He shifted around under his covers.

  She turned to face him, her eyes wide. His pulse accelerated. Her behavior seemed odd. Why had she come here in the middle of the night?

  He tried again. “Has something happened?”

  “No.” She remained crouched in front him. The position looked uncomfortable.

  “Do you want to sit?”

  “No.”

  He sighed, exasperated by her evasive, one-word answers. She’d always been so direct. Why so coy now? “Layla, what in the three kingdoms is going on? You’re acting very strange.”

  She held up one finger and pulled her dark black hair around her face. Will leaned back on his elbows, watching. A thousand questions ran through his mind. He started to open his mouth to voice one but decided against it. Whatever her reason for being here, she’d tell him when she found the words.

  “I’ve made an important decision.”

  “Okay.” His mind spun on the endless interpretations of that one simple phrase.

  “I choose you.”

  His heart stuttered, skipping several beats at once before it began to race. Had he understood what she said? She chose him? Since the day he had walked into the tunnels and found her wrapped in Nash’s arms, he’d been preparing himself to hear just the opposite. He’d hoped, a painful, longing wish, but he’d never believed she’d pick him.

  “What are you saying, Layla?” He forced out the words, which stuck to the back of his throat like a toddler clinging to its mother’s skirts.

  “I’m saying I love you, Wil. You. Only you, just you. I want to be with you.” The words rushed out of her mouth. Layla bit her bottom lip as she stared at him.

  Her strange one word replies, her shaking hand—it all made sense. This declaration changed everything. Wil righted himself to a sitting position, but his lungs still refused to draw a full breath. He swiveled so he knelt before her. She assumed the same position, changing from the crouch to her knees.

  His hand trembling, Wil reached up and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. He ached to kiss her but couldn’t yet. He had to ask, had to make sure. If she held on to even a hint of doubt about choosing him, he needed to know. He desired her whole heart more than anything in the world.

  “Are you sure? Nash…” He sucked in more air. “Nash loves you and would move mountains to make you happy. We both know that.”

  “You’re right.” He swallowed hard, steeling himself against the unsteelable. “Nash is a wonderful person, and a part of me will always care for him. But you, Wil…you’re the one I see when I think about my future. Even though it must have broken your heart to see me with Nash, you let me make my own decision. I appreciate that. I’m a better person when I’m with you. I love you, Wil.”

  He cupped her cheek in his hand. Her purple eyes shined, the love she proclaimed evident in them.

  “I’ve wanted to hear you say those words for so long, but I didn’t dare dream it would happen.”

  “It’s true. I want to be with you and only you…forever.”

  “Layla.” He breathed her name with reverence. His life, his love. He leaned toward her until their lips met. In that kiss, he placed all the emotion and feeling he’d been holding back. What started out slow—filled with wonderment and awe—grew.

  He placed a hand on her other cheek, cupping the very face that enchanted his dreams. She wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing against his lips. Wil’s body ignited. He moved a hand to the small of her back, pressing their bodies closer, yet unable to get close enough.

  When she stretched back, creating a space between them where before none existed, he let her go. The depths of his affections sometimes overwhelmed him, and he didn’t want them to overwhelm her as well. To his surprise, she tugged on the hem of his shirt. He turned his head to the side in silent question. She nodded.

  With no words passing between them, she lifted the shirt over his head. Layla tossed it aside and inhaled. He watched her gaze start at his neck and travel down his chest. Her hands followed. Wil moaned as the sensation overtook him. When she trailed a finger along the scar he received defending her at the River Lars, fire raged within him. Everywhere she touched sprang to life in a way it never had before. Layla bent down and kissed the bandage that held his latest wound.

  “I thought I’d lost you. I never want to feel that way again.” Her warm breath brushed his skin.

  Wil plunged his hands into her hair, lifting her head back up until their lips met again. He liked the feel of her shirt against his bare skin, of her hand trailing up and down his back. Everywhere she touched exploded, sending ripples of pleasure coursing through him.

  “I love you, Layla. I love you so much.”

  She placed a halting hand on his chest, and he stopped, not wanting to take her any further than she wanted to go. She regarded him with surprising intensity and desire. Wil reached for his shirt, to put it back on, but she caught his arm.

  “I want to be with you.” With the flick of her hair, she covered most of her face, as she often did when she felt self-conscious. He lifted her chin until she met his eyes and moved the hair away so he could see all. Her cheeks flamed, a quality he knew she hated but he found endearing.

  “We don’t have to do this tonight. We’ve got all the time in the world now.”

  “You don’t want to be with me?” Her cheeks flamed brighter. She covered her face with her hands.

  He took each of her hands in his, lowering them. “Of course I do.” He sighed. “Of course I do. I just want you to be sure because once we’ve done it we can never take it back.”

  She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I meant what I said earlier. I choose you. I love you, and I want you. All of you.”

  His brain and heart warred within him as he bent down and planted a row of kisses from one side of her exposed collarbone to the other. A tremor ran through her
. Starting at the base of her throat, Wil took his time working his lips back up to her mouth. They both shook.

  Passion, desire, and love mixed together, igniting Wil. In one swift motion, he grabbed her hips and rolled her beneath him. As he looked down at her, his heart filled with so much love he thought it might actually burst.

  “You’re sure?” he asked again.

  She brushed her lips against his throat, further weakening his already tentative self-control.

  “More sure than I’ve ever been about anything.”

  “I love you, Layla.”

  “And I love you, Wil.”

  He let go of his doubt and succumbed as she drew him closer.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Nash

  When the door to his cell swung open, Nash groaned. Not again. Why couldn’t she leave him alone?

  Today, she wore a shimmering silver dress, her long auburn hair falling in soft waves. She looked more innocent, less severe, more like the person he had glimpsed on rare occasions.

  “Nash.” Her voice ricocheted off the stone, hard and cold.

  “Cataleen, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He shot her his most acerbic smile.

  Ignoring his question, she snapped her fingers. A small woman scurried in with a chair. The servant zipped back out and returned with a second chair. Sitting in one, Cataleen gestured for Nash to sit in the other.

  “Chairs aren’t exactly comfortable in chains.”

  “Either sit in the chair, or I’ll find someone to make you do it.”

  Nash hoisted himself up off the floor, his body creaking and groaning from having been in one position for too long. He started toward the chair, but the chain around his neck pulled him back.

  “I can’t reach it.” He heaved the words, angry that she mocked him.

  Cataleen stood and pushed his chair back far enough so he could sit despite his restraints. He glared at her, contempt rolling off of him in waves. The innocent person he sometimes saw had not shown up today. Before him now sat the contemptible woman he’d grown to loathe.

  “Do you enjoy humiliating me? You put the chair just out of my reach to remind me that I’m your prisoner.”

  “I did no such thing.” Her calm infuriated him. “If you will recall, my servant placed the chair.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I know you came to the Outlands to find out information about us, so how about I give you a little?"

  He turned his head, assessing her. “Is this another of your games, Cataleen?”

  “I don’t play games. I go after what I want, and what I want is you.”

  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Well, I don’t want you, and I never will.”

  She made a tsking noise and shook her head at him. “Never say never, Nash.”

  “Why do you want me anyway? You’re a queen. You could you have your choice of men. Why try so hard for a man that doesn’t want you?” If she wanted to mock him, he’d take the opportunity to return the favor.

  “The Vanguards fascinate me. They always have. Vanguards possess such strength and power, and you, as a Vanguard price, were born with the most.”

  “The Vanguard king is Vance. If you want to be married to the core of Vanguard strength, I suggest you start there.” The idea of this insane hellion wreaking havoc on Vance brought him a small amount of pleasure. If only she would go after his half-brother, he could rid himself of two problems at once. If only…

  Cataleen threw back her head and laughed. “Vance?” She laughed again. “He’s unworthy of the title ‘Vanguard prince.’”

  “Why do you need my strength?” Nash knew he shouldn’t play along with her games, but he always found a way to ensnare himself. Like a fool, he hoped she would slip and reveal pertinent information one day.

  “Your strength is the perfect battle compliment to my power.”

  “And your power is…”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

  “It was worth a try.”

  “Persistence…I like that.”

  “Clearly.” She embodied the word persistence. How many days and nights had she tried to win him over, with charm or force, despite his resistance?

  She stood and leaned down over him. The gleam of pleasure in her eyes told him she enjoyed placing him in a subservient position. If this behavior indicated the indignities he’d suffer as her husband, he intended to keep refusing. Lifting one of her long, claw-like nails toward his face, she trailed a finger along his jaw. He considered jerking away but worried the motion could slice his skin. Though she repulsed him, Nash endured her caresses.

  Cataleen pressed her lips against his ear, her breath hot. “I promised to tell you something about the Outlanders. Do you want to hear it?”

  “Why not?” He bit out his response, sure he would receive nothing of value.

  “As queen of the Outlanders, I am endowed with a special ability. By focusing my mind, I can see what people are doing even if they aren’t near me. And…” She paused and raised an eyebrow for dramatic effect. “I can share my visions with those I choose.”

  Nash refused to speak. She must take him for a fool. If she could project visions, her powers would be closer to those of the Ethereals.

  “Would you like a demonstration? I’ll check in on the servant you saw a moment ago and project the vision to you.”

  Cataleen sat back down in her seat. She closed her eyes. Nash sat farther back in his chair and worked to place a mind guard, just as he had been taught in Etherea. If the queen thought she could go poking around in his mind, she had a surprise coming. Nash had never been good at Alterations, but, out of necessity on the battlefield, he’d become quite adept at protecting his thoughts.

  To his surprise, an image formed of the young woman he’d seen only moments before. Nash saw her standing outside his cell door. She kept her hands folded in front of her and appeared bored but determined to stand out there as long as the queen wanted her at the post. He saw this young woman with unnerving clarity and vividness, as if he stood in front of her.

  Nash whipped his head from side to side to dispel the image. How had Cataleen made it past his mental blocks? He’d been trained by Wil and Vespa, the most skilled Ethereals he knew. What kind of tricks did Cataleen and her people know?

  “How did you do that? I put up a mind guard.”

  She barked out a harsh laugh. “What do you think I am, an Ethereal? I’m not planting images into your head. I’m simply projecting what I can see to you. Believe me, there is no manipulation involved.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Fine, don’t believe me.” She shrugged. What game did she play?

  “So is the ability to see what people are doing the Outlander power?”

  She shot him an exasperated look. “Only the queen has this ability. The Outlander people have a much more impressive power, but I will not be revealing that secret to you today. You should be grateful I showed you what I can do. I don’t often share it.”

  “I’m so lucky,” he said, keeping his voice droll.

  One corner of her mouth turned up, and her eyelids lowered halfway—shrewd and cunning. “You could be lucky. I could show you what Layla is doing right now.”

  His head snapped up. Layla. Anger boiled inside of him at the thought of Cataleen spying on her. Did the queen do that often? Was Layla in danger? He yanked on his chains, testing their strength for the thousandth time.

  “Don’t you even speak her name.”

  Cataleen sneered. “I’m trying to do something nice for you. I thought I could use my powers to give you what you wanted, but since you’re so ungrateful, I’ll go.”

  She stood and walked toward the door. Though Nash knew he should just let her go, let her walk out and leave him alone, the temptation to see Layla’s face overcame him. He’d spent countless hours in this dank, dark cell envisioning her. To see her lovely features appear before him, as clearly as he’d
seen the servant girl earlier, proved too great a temptation.

  “Wait.” The word hung heavy and tangible in the cool, thick air. Cataleen paused, though she did not turn around. Nash could almost see the smug expression on her face, knowing that she had found his weakness and could exploit it with such ease. He’d hate himself for requesting this favor, but he couldn’t let the opportunity pass by.

  Cataleen pivoted. The satisfied smile on her face told him she knew he’d ask. He berated himself for letting this woman see his weakness.

  “I want to see her.” The low voice, the need evident in its timbre, sounded foreign to his ears.

  The queen returned. She kept her gait ponderous and contemplative as she reclaimed her seat across from him. “Now remember, I am simply projecting what I see into your mind. I do not control the images; I just relay them.”

  She stared across from him as she had done the first time. She closed her eyes in concentration. Nash’s heart rate increased. Layla. He’d missed her so much. To be able to see her.

  Cataleen’s eyes popped open. “Nash, don’t! Don’t do it!”

  Snapped back into reality, he leaned forward. Distress replaced the calculation he often saw on her face. As sometimes happened, the cold, cunning Cataleen vanished. Instead, she sat before him. The person staring at him looked the same as before, though her demeanor had changed. The one he called The Innocent peered back at him, sad and frightened.

  She’d interrupted the moment, stopping his ability to see Layla before it even began. Fury rose within him. “What are you doing? I’m supposed to see Layla!”

  “No, don’t do it, Nash. Cataleen means to crush you.”