Bright Wicked 2: Radiant Fierce (A Twilight Fae Fantasy Romance)

by Everly Frost

  The collision between Nathaniel and Tanner shudders through me. Tanner holds on to the rope a second longer than he should, causing me to jolt upward with the force of Nathaniel’s hit. I crash back to the ground as the rope releases, but the fall is nothing compared to the rising fear inside me. A wild mix of terror and anticipation.

  Rolling onto my side, I wrench at the bindings around my hands, unable to loosen them as I twist myself up onto my knees.

  I turn just in time to see Tanner hit the ground.

  Nathaniel looms over him still holding the axe he wielded before.

  Tanner recovers quickly, leaping to his feet, but Nathaniel wrenches him around as if Tanner weighs nothing. He drives Tanner back to his knees with a savage kick to his back, followed by a vicious fist to the side of his head that knocks Tanner to the ground. Nathaniel does it all singlehandedly, still gripping the axe in his left hand.

  Now that the younger man is lying flat on his back, concussed and not fighting back, Nathaniel plants his boot on Tanner’s chest and allows the flat side of the axe head to rest down on Tanner’s neck, waiting for him to recover consciousness.

  Groans from all around me tell me that the other hunters are subdued—either injured or dead. Nobody is coming to save Tanner.

  Nathaniel doesn’t look at me. Blood runs down his arms and splatters his cheeks, casting crimson splashes across his face and neck. I’ve heard about battle rage, even felt it, fought it inside myself, but Nathaniel’s battle rage is beyond anything I’ve ever imagined.

  My heart constricts inside my chest, the same sharp pain I felt before, and this time—now that I’m not doubled over—I can see the faint glow across my chest through my armor.

  Golden light glimmers at the edges of my vision as if the sun is rising inside me, the most unexpected shine. I hunch forward, unable to use my arms or hands, trying to hide the light until I realize…

  It’s not coming from me. It’s a reflection off my armor.

  Opposite me, Nathaniel’s chest glows.

  His heart shines as he roars. “You. Do not. Touch her!”

  Chapter 16

  Tanner coughs as he regains consciousness with a jolt.

  He tries to grab the axe, tries to pull it from his neck and take control of the weapon, but Nathaniel swings it up and over his head. It’s not the largest axe I’ve ever seen, nowhere near as big as Nathaniel’s halberd and a far more simple construction of steel and wood, but it looks deadly sharp.

  Every bulging muscle in Nathaniel’s arms and chest tell me that he has the strength to cut Tanner’s head clean off.

  A cry of warning dies in my throat as Hagan runs up behind Nathaniel, finally joining the fight.

  In a frighteningly simple move, Hagan wraps his left hand around Nathaniel’s throat and drives his dagger toward the other side of Nathaniel’s neck.

  The blade stops just before it would sever Nathaniel’s spine.

  The move is so expertly carried out that it makes me wonder if Hagan derived his name from it. He has the strength to separate Nathaniel’s head from his spine with one efficient stab.

  Hagan’s grip is so tight that Nathaniel is forced to alter his center of gravity, pulled slightly off Tanner, but he refuses to step off him altogether, his muscles straining as he remains firmly in place.

  Hagan doesn’t try to take the axe, which hovers dangerously above Tanner’s chest while Tanner lies frozen and wide-eyed beneath it.

  “Don’t do this, Nathaniel,” Hagan warns, his fingers tightening around the side of Nathaniel’s throat. “You kill my half-brother and I’ll have no choice but to end you.”

  Nathaniel responds with a growl as dangerous as a wolf’s. “I’ve let Tanner live too many times.”

  Hagan shakes his head. “If you don’t surrender, Christiana will pay the price.”

  The rage drains from Nathaniel’s face, but his chest rises and falls with angry breaths. “Where is she?”

  “At the castle.”

  Nathaniel’s questions are abrupt. “Has Cyrian hurt her?”

  “He will if we don’t bring you back.” The tip of Hagan’s dagger is poised to plunge. “Like I said, Nathaniel, dead or alive. He doesn’t care.”

  Nathaniel finally casts his gaze in my direction, meeting my eyes across the distance. The light I saw glowing from his chest is gone. It disappeared so quickly that I’m sure I must have imagined it. A trick of the murky sunlight here. Just the gleam of sweat across his shirt, nothing more.

  Possibly for the first time, there’s real fear in his eyes.

  “I’ll make sure nobody touches your woman,” Hagan continues, lowering his voice as his focus shifts briefly to me. “She’s proven herself worthy of your attention. If you come quietly, I’ll make sure nobody molests her before we reach the King. I can’t promise anything after that.”

  Nathaniel doesn’t speak or move and his silence frightens me more than Tanner’s abuse. I struggle against the ropes binding my hands as I sense many of the hunters recovering and rising to their feet around me. I’m not sure if they’ll respect Hagan’s orders or if, any second now, I’ll have to fight off even more of them than before.

  Very slowly, a storm grows in Nathaniel’s eyes, but he suppresses it, his hand tightening on the axe and his focus lowering to the blade.

  Hagan demands, “Do we have an agreement?”

  Nathaniel grits his teeth. “Yes.”

  He pitches the axe into the dirt beside Tanner’s head, making the younger man shout.

  “Good.” Hagan immediately releases Nathaniel and returns his dagger to its place on his belt.

  Nathaniel leans down to Tanner. “If you come near her… even to speak with her… I will kill you. It won’t matter if I’m in chains. I’ll find a way. Do you understand?”

  Tanner snarls up at Nathaniel. He jumps to his feet as soon as Nathaniel lifts his boot and lets fly with a string of curses in Nathaniel’s face.

  He only stops when Hagan grabs his shoulder and drags him away with a terse order. “Get the wagon. You’ll ride with me.”

  To the other men, Hagan shouts, “Secure the prisoners! Gather up your weapons and get to your horses.”

  Nathaniel meets my eyes across the distance. He stands still now, his arms remaining at his sides as three hunters approach him. They’re each bloodied from cuts and wounds. Unwinding ropes from their belts, they snarl curses at him as they wrap one rope around his neck and the other two around each of his wrists.

  I try to get up, but Nathaniel motions with his flat palm for me to stay down. Don’t act.

  The sharp crack of a whip heralds the arrival of a wagon. Its wheels are whisper quiet, well-oiled, and the horses are sleek, black, and surprisingly healthy-looking. The back of the wagon is a cage. It has a wooden wagon bed, but metal bars extend up and around it with a set of hinged cage doors at the back.

  Tanner jumps from the seat to settle the animals while Hagan strides over to me. With a quick slice of his dagger, Hagan cuts the weapons harness from my body, taking possession of my weapons while he leaves the ropes binding my wrists intact.

  “Up,” he barks, yanking on my arm to hoist me to my feet. “Nobody will touch you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate trouble.”

  Wobbling as I regain my balance, I return his flinty stare. It’s a shame I need to tip my head back to do it. It ruins the impact of my rebellious gesture.

  Hagan drags me to the wagon while the other hunters collect their weapons around me. Many of them have cuts across their arms and chests. Bruises are appearing across the faces of others.

  Hagan opens the doors of the cage, which swing wide on their hinges. I catch sight of a bundle of blankets at the far end, along with coils of rope and piles of chains.

  I expect to have to climb in, but Hagan hoists me up again, this time into the wooden wagon bed, plonking me down on the left-hand side.

  “Feet!” he orders, reaching for a coil of rope.

  I place my ankles
together and he ties them securely. “Be grateful you get rope and not these,” he says, dragging a set of chains from the wagon. Multiple sets of shackles are attached to them. I’ve never seen a set of chains like that until now.

  I look up to find Nathaniel waiting at the end of the wagon. His weapons have also been removed. The hunters are pulling on the ends of his ropes, which dig into his neck and wrists.

  “Get to your horses,” Hagan orders them, forcing them to let go. His dagger slides through the knots, dangerously close to Nathaniel’s neck, before the ropes fall to the ground.

  Then he uncoils the chains, wraps the main portion around Nathaniel’s waist, and secures a set of attached shackles to his wrists before locking them in place.

  Nathaniel sits on the edge of the wagon while Hagan secures the remaining shackles around Nathaniel’s ankles. The shackles rest outside of Nathaniel’s boots, but he won’t be able to kick off the shackles because of the limited length of chain connecting the ankle restraints to the chain around his waist.

  I scoot along the wagon bed as Nathaniel swings his feet up inside the cage.

  The doors close and the lock clicks.

  Nathaniel slides up against the side of the wagon bed opposite me. The wooden sides are high enough for him to rest his shoulders against it. Above that, the cage’s metal bars would allow me to stand up, but I’d have to stoop.

  Hagan and Tanner take up seats at the front of the wagon and it jolts into action. I fall to the side as the horses take off with more speed than I was expecting. With my hands still tied behind my back, my balance is way off.

  I land against the blankets. They’re soft and surprisingly warm.

  And breathing.

  I recoil from the furry body I fell against.

  Tangled in the gray blankets, two wolves lie sleeping. At least, I hope they’re sleeping and not about to leap up at me. Their rising and falling chests indicate they aren’t dead.

  They don’t stir. One of them looks exactly like the alpha female we fought this morning.

  Tanner twists in his seat outside the cage. He catches me staring at the wolves and throws me a cruel smile. “They were howling this morning. They only do that when someone’s going to die.”

  He turns back to the horses as they speed along the road.

  I twist to Nathaniel and find him gesturing as much as he possibly can, urging me to come over to his side.

  Sliding away from the wolves, I choose the far side of him, farthest from the front, scooching in close to his side so we can talk. My hands rub against the coarse wagon wood and the back of my ribs ache from the pummeling I received from the arrows along with Tanner’s boot. It’s uncomfortable, but I make the best of it.

  Nathaniel tilts his head to mine and keeps his voice low, a murmur beneath the sound of the wagon and the horses. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. You?” I don’t like the look of the bruising around his neck or the cuts on his arms.

  “Nothing that won’t heal,” he rasps.

  “What about your sister?”

  He’s quiet and tense beside me. “She’s in danger. So are you.”

  I drop my head to Nathaniel’s shoulder, an overwhelming need to wrap my arms around him overtaking me, but it’s not like I can do that right now with my arms bound behind my back. I also have to be careful not to touch him skin on skin and accidentally glow.

  “Yesterday, I broke the rules to save my brother,” I whisper. “I know how important it is to protect family.”

  He’s tense beside me. “You’re my family. I made you a promise to protect you and I won’t break it.”

  I search his eyes, hoping he hears me. “I trust you, Nathaniel.”

  He gives me a nod, but that is all.

  I push at the fear that threatens to overtake me. Nathaniel warned me against going anywhere near Cyrian. Now I’m on my way right to him.

  Chapter 17

  We travel in the back of the wagon for at least an hour while the other hunters follow close behind on their horses. The sun must be at its highest in the sky now, but the light never changes. The landscape morphs from fields of wheat to heavily wooded areas and then opens up into orchards again.

  All along the way, humans are tilling fields, harvesting produce, or cutting timber.

  Each time we pass through a village, moths rise up from roofs, fluttering into the sky. Tanner bellows at anyone blocking the road to get out of the way. Children with pale faces run alongside the wagon when it’s forced to slow down. All of them seem to know Nathaniel. He warns them not to get caught under the wheels and they run away again, shouting for their parents. Adults with alarmed faces watch us pass by from darkened doors. They are all gaunt. More than a few are covered in furs, wearing the faces of foxes. Nathaniel told me those are the ones affected by the Rot to the extent that they don’t show their faces anymore.

  Finally, in the distance, a castle rises up into the haze. It’s a monstrous collection of soot gray towers that soar higher than anything else around it—so high that I can only just make out the battlements before the towers ascend into the thick vapor that covers the sky.

  We passed the last village a while ago, but there’s another cluster of buildings farther off to our left. These are oddly pristine—white stone and russet-colored roofs. They’re surrounded by neat rows of orchards.

  The quick clatter of hooves breaks through my thoughts.

  A woman on a bay mare gallops toward us along the path from the white buildings, her golden hair flying behind her.

  As soon as he sees her, Tanner nudges Hagan, who draws the wagon to a stop, allowing the rider to draw level with the side of the wagon on which Tanner sits. The other hunters all pull up behind us, keeping their distance from the woman.

  The newcomer’s hair settles around her shoulders as she pulls to a stop. I can’t help but stare at her—her golden hair and cornflower blue eyes. She looks just like Esther.

  Tanner leans toward her. “Lady Ethel. What brings you to us?”

  “I heard you had some unusual cargo.” Her voice is sweet like sugar, practically oozing around us. “I had to see for myself.”

  Tanner twists in his seat, inclining his shaved head toward us. “Not such a hard catch.”

  Ethel casts her gaze in our direction, her eyebrows rising as she focusses on Nathaniel. “So it’s true. My, my. How the mighty fall.”

  Nathaniel returns her gaze with a hard stare.

  A faint frown creases her forehead as she assesses me. She glazes over the mark on my face. “They look awfully cozy for prisoners.”

  Tanner scowls. “They won’t be comfortable for long.”

  “Oh? Surely, Cyrian won’t kill his Shield.”

  “Not his Shield anymore. And yeah… he might.”

  Ethel pouts at Tanner. “What a shame to waste Nathaniel’s body when I could put him to work in my fields.” She suddenly grips Tanner’s shoulder. “You will tell Cyrian, won’t you, that I’d rather have Nathaniel work for me instead of casting his body to the beasts? I’m sure I can flog him enough for Cyrian’s liking.”

  Her lips twist as she casts a distasteful glance at me. “The female, on the other hand… There’s nothing pleasing about her at all. I couldn’t even use her to entertain my guards.”

  Her gaze rakes down my body and her jaw drops suddenly. She squeezes Tanner’s shoulder again. “Oh, but do tell Cyrian that I want her armor. Make sure he doesn’t damage it, won’t you? I haven’t seen the likes of it since Luciana’s days.” She smiles prettily at Tanner. “You will tell him, won’t you?”

  He licks his lips at her. “Of course. I’ll peel the armor off the whore’s dead body myself. Just for you.”

  She bats her eyelashes at him. “If only I could come with you.”

  He laughs. “You know the rules. Only hunters and prisoners beyond the gates.”

  “A pity.” Ethel pats his arm again before she steers her mare away from the wagon, circles it at a trot
, and gallops away. I make note of the way the hunters stay well away from her, even though she barely looked at them. She didn’t speak with Hagan or acknowledge him at all.

  He glares at Tanner. “Are you done licking her boots?”

  Tanner smirks. “I’ve licked more than her boots.”

  Hagan doesn’t look impressed. “Only fools go near that woman. You’ll wake up with your balls in your mouth one day if you’re not careful. She killed her own sister to gain favor with Cyrian.”

  Tanner’s cursing is drowned in the sudden movement of the wagon as Hagan urges the horses back to speed.

  The scent of the orchards lifted the sourness in the air, but the smell of decay becomes heavier as we approach the enormous gates in the outer wall. Several guards patrol the battlements and one of them shouts an order to open the gates as we approach.

  The large, iron spikes rise and the wall’s dark shadow passes over the cage, dropping us into a cold chill as we pass through.

  Nathaniel leans toward me with a look of warning in his eyes, but he doesn’t have to speak. It will be a miracle if Cyrian doesn’t identify me as fae. Then I’ll need to fear all humans, not just Cyrian and his hunters.

  Nathaniel’s shackles don’t reach far enough for him to grip my arm, but the intensity in his dark eyes is grip enough. I shiver as the fear I’ve been keeping at bay suddenly swamps me, but I remind myself who I am. Aura Lucidia. Commander of the fae army. The Queen’s traitorous Champion.

  A cold smile forms on my lips as we pass beneath the inner wall.

  The wagon pulls to a stop in the middle of a courtyard while the hunters arrive behind us, jumping from their horses and handing them off to waiting guards.

  Hagan jumps from the wagon’s seat and strides around to open the cage, stepping in and picking me up without a word.

  I find myself gasping at the roughness of his movements, one arm pressed across the top of my head so I don’t bang against the side of the cage while his other envelops my waist and knocks the wind from my chest.