Once rejected twice shy, p.21
Once Rejected, Twice Shy, page 21
“Ay. Where are you coming from?”
Dru arched one brow. “Are you planning to loot my home while we’re at the speech?”
The guy blinked rapidly before shaking his head. “Just trying to be friendly,” he said stiffly.
“Yeah, we aren’t friendly,” Dru replied.
He dropped the pleasant facade. “What are you doing with them?” He nodded at Faith and Sonara.
“Walking,” Dru replied, “to the speech.”
The guy’s face twisted into a scowl, and for a minute, Faith worried he would shift into his wolf. What the hell was going on?
Finally, he waved his hand. “Go on with you, then.”
But Dru did not move.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked.
“You to leave,” Dru replied.
The guy narrowed his eyes and hesitated for a moment before tsking and turning on his heel, stalking off into the woods.
Dru started walking again.
“What was that about?” Faith asked.
“I got a bad vibe from him,” Dru replied.
“What kind of bad vibe?”
“I don’t think he meant me any harm, but I can’t say the same for his feelings toward you two.”
“Because we’re fae?”
“Yes. That would not have happened forty years ago,” Dru said. “The way he looked at you two, like you were beneath him.”
“And she is the—”
“Zadkiel is encouraging the rift between our species,” Dru cut off Sonara. “It only furthers his agenda.”
Faith didn’t miss the irony of the fact that the fae who were supporting her claim to the throne wanted to keep the kingdom intact, yet did not want wolves and fae to have relationships beyond working ones.
“What’s your preference?” she asked. Dru seemed to have a general dislike of pretty much everyone, except Mikail. Would she be happier surrounded only by wolves?
“My preference is to have a ruler who isn’t an asshole.”
Well, at least she didn’t think Faith was an asshole. At least, Faith hoped that’s what it meant.
Dru tensed a few more times, but no one else approached them. The farther they moved away from the hidden rebel compound, however, they were joined by more and more people, wolves and fae, all heading in the same direction. Most kept to themselves or to their own groups. None, that Faith could tell, were mixes of fae and wolves.
At one point, a wolf bumped into a faery—it looked accidental—and the faery turned around and shoved him, sending him stumbling into another cluster of people. He charged at the faery, and for a few moments, they wrestled on the ground while the nearest onlookers formed a circle around them, shouting and cheering and generally encouraging the fight.
“This is ridiculous,” Sonara said hotly, and she used her magic to forcibly drag them apart.
“Get that faery magic off me,” the wolf snarled, slashing his arms and kicking his legs like he was fighting an invisible enemy.
Sonara pulled her magic back, and the faery the guy had been battling stood, brushed off his clothes, and stormed down the path, his entourage of other faeries in tow.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Faith whispered as they continued walking.
“There are wolves everywhere,” Dru murmured, so low Faith could scarcely hear her. “Their senses are twice as powerful as you think they are.”
Faith clamped her mouth shut.
More and more people joined them. Dru adjusted their pattern so that she walked behind, with Sonara and Faith side by side in front of her. Faith supposed she was more worried about someone sneaking up on them rather than attacking from the front. And even if they did attack from the front, she had no doubt Dru would simply knock her and Sonara over and charge at the enemy.
Faith was nervous being around all these people, but not nearly as much as she probably should be. She was that confident in Dru’s abilities. Plus, Sonara had been right—no one here even looked twice at her. They had no idea who she was.
Would that cause issues when they finally defeated Zydeco and she claimed the throne? Would they believe she was who she said she was?
And how were they supposed to fix this rift Zydeco had been building, festering?
They reached a huge field with a stage set up on one end. There weren’t any lights or giant sound systems, but that did not mean the setup was any less elaborate.
Filmy streamers draped from twenty-foot poles anchoring the stage at each corner. The flooring looked like wood; silky material wrapped around the bottom, pooling behind the row of wolf Warriors lined up around it. The stage was empty save two clusters of potted palms. There wasn’t even a dais. When Zydeco took that stage, he would truly be the center of attention.
While scanning the crowd for any signs of danger, and, admittedly, for straight-up curiosity, Faith also was keeping an eye out for Mikail and Preston. She had a feeling it would not go well if Mikail discovered she was here, quite literally surrounded by the enemy.
There were a few shoving matches here and there, and plenty of snippy words exchanged, but no fights broke out in their vicinity, for which Faith was grateful. She hated the idea that these people fought and argued just because one was a faery and the other was a wolf. When they were in human form, they all looked the same.
Well, not exactly the same. Hair color, skin color, eye color; it was as varied as in the human world. Some were tall, others were not. Some were plump, others were not. They were all… humanoid.
Their differences were on the inside, unless, of course, they chose to let those differences out. And one could shift into a wolf, while the other could wield magic. Those traits were equally cool, in her opinion. And according to Mikail, when blended, those traits were damn near unstoppable.
It didn’t make sense to separate them.
It also didn’t make sense to refuse to allow them to come together intimately. If they worked so well as a team in defending the realm, why couldn’t they work well as couples?
The mood of the crowd shifted, became more focused. Faith glanced up at the stage. A row of men were climbing the steps leading up to the raised platform. Two wolves first, who strode to the front two corners and stood with their arms crossed over their massive chests. Then Zydeco—okay, okay, Zadkiel—with his dark hair and broad shoulders, clean-shaven jawline, and sharp eyes scanning the crowd much like Mikail and Dru were always doing.
He wore a muted green military-style jacket and brown pants tucked into slightly darker brown boots. He strode right to the middle of the stage, while two more wolves moved to their places in the back corners.
The crowd hushed, and Zadkiel waited a handful of beats before speaking.
He was polite, earnest, even a tad boring at times as he thanked them all for being there, appreciated the support, was glad for the fact that his takeover had been, thus far, quite smooth.
He even touched on the queen’s death, expressing regret that it had happened—which Faith didn’t believe for a second—and determination that they would catch the culprit responsible.
“He should turn himself in then,” Faith muttered. Several nearby wolves tossed curious glances her way, and she snapped her mouth closed and stared up at the stage.
Zadkiel droned on, assuring the audience that they need not worry over him seeing the same end.
“He called a mandatory meeting for this?” Dru scoffed, crossing her arms and frowning. “This is one of the most boring speeches I’ve ever heard.”
Faith had to agree.
Zadkiel lifted his arms. “Okay, okay, enough of that business. I’m sure you’d much rather hear the juicy part of the speech, eh?”
Chuckles reverberated through the crowd. Dru wasn’t the only one who had been getting restless.
“I brought you all together today so I could make an announcement. Or maybe it’s more of a confession.”
He paused, and Faith swore the entire crowd was holding its breath.
“You see, I have an heir,” Zadkiel announced.
The murmurs, the restlessness, increased in volume as the individuals in the crowd absorbed this news.
“An heir?” Faith repeated.
“That’s a new layer of complication,” Dru muttered.
Faith’s gaze flew to Dru. “Does this mean if he’s taken down, his heir can claim—”
Dru covered Faith’s mouth with her hand. “Yes, that’s exactly what it means, and stop talking. Now.”
Zadkiel spoke up again. “Yes, an heir. My heir. Your heir.” He waved as if to encompass the entire audience. “Except I cannot find her. She’s disappeared. I’m afraid she’s been kidnapped.”
“No one has ever even suggested this before,” Sonara said, her brow furrowed. “No rumors, no gossip, no hints that he’s ever procreated. How could he have kept something like that a secret?”
Well, the queen had managed to keep her offspring a secret for forty years. Perhaps he took advice from her before he killed her.
“Unless the child is an infant,” Dru said. “How many fae have been with child recently?”
Sonara shook her head. “I do not know of anyone, not for the past two, maybe three rotations of the sun. Maybe longer. We are not terribly fertile,” she added for Faith’s benefit.
That was interesting to know. She and Mikail had not used protection, and he’d not even brought it up. She’d assumed it had something to do with what they were, although she’d not expected infertility to be the reason. Guess it was a good thing neither she nor Luke had ever been interested in having kids.
Zadkiel lifted his hands again, like he was a preacher at a revival. “Perhaps if you knew the identity of my heir, you might be able to help me find her.”
Excitement thrummed in the air. The volume increased as the crowd began talking to one another. The guy really knew how to stir up an audience. That was saying something, considering how boring his intro had been.
“My heir…”
It was as if the entire group of people all sucked in a breath at the same time and then held it.
He smiled.
“My heir…”
“Christ,” Dru muttered, finally lowering her hand from Faith’s mouth. “Get on with it already.”
“My heir is also the queen’s heir,” he said very quickly.
Wait, did he say…?
“Yes, I have heard the whispers,” he added. “About the lost princess.”
Faith’s gaze flew to Dru’s face.
“Whispers?” Sonara echoed. “How is that possible?”
“It was just announced to an entire community of fae,” Dru pointed out.
“Yes, but—”
“It’s true,” he declared. “She is lost. She is real. And I am her father.”
What?
“This is some Star Wars shit,” Dru said.
Faith whipped her head around, not at all sure what she was looking for. Holy shit, did the man who killed my mother just say he was my father?
These are the genes running through my system?
They needed to get out of this crowd, get back to the relative safety of the fae’s hidden sanctuary on the beach. Faith needed to regroup, wrap her head around yet another mind-boggling development. She needed… God, she needed so many things right now.
Mikail being at the top of that list. It was ridiculous given the up and down nature of their relationship, but she couldn’t help it. She needed him. His support, his confidence, his knowledge about this world. His way of knowing exactly what she would need, what she should do in a situation like this.
She lifted her gaze, expecting to clash with Dru, but she caught someone else’s eye.
Mikail’s.
Chapter Twenty-Three
What the fuck was she doing here?
Mikail was half-convinced it was a mirage even as he grabbed the front of Preston’s shirt and lurched forward, just in case.
“Is that—?”
“If you see her, too, then yes,” he said. “She is real. And she is here.” In the middle of the kingdom Zadkiel had claimed for himself. And he’d just announced she was his daughter. Was this a ploy? Was it a lie? Another trick up his sleeve?
Or had the man truly killed the woman who birthed his child?
“What is Faith—?”
“I have no idea, but we need to get over there.”
Like him, Faith had disguised herself. He had pulled his hair back into a slick man bun, as the humans called it, which was currently a wildly popular trend with the younger wolves.
Before they could leave the village, Preston had insisted on stopping to see Sonara, who, upon learning their plan, had conjured a ridiculous-looking hat that also happened to be a current fashion trend in this world, then had changed Mikail’s eyes from hazel to brown.
Between the disguise and his forty-year absence, he suspected even his parents would not have recognized him.
But Faith had. Through the crowd, even with him trying to hide his identity, she’d found him. Hell, he’d swear she summoned him, so desperately did he feel he needed to get to her.
“Sonara,” Preston yelped as they pushed and shoved their way through the cluster of bodies.
At least they’d been smart enough to bring Dru, but why the hell were they even here?
And why had Dru let them come? His second-in-command had always had a rebellious streak, but this was beyond acceptable, and she bloody well knew it.
She was putting the rightful queen’s life at risk. And a civilian’s.
When they were close enough to touch them, Mikail had to tamp down the very real urge to pull Faith into his arms and hug the breath out of her. Instead, he grasped her biceps and squeezed. “What are you doing here?”
“Your eyes,” she said. “What happened to them?”
He nodded at her companion. “Sonara changed the color.” If he didn’t cut it off now, they’d spiral into a question-and-answer session better had far away from this place. He caught Dru’s gaze. “We need to get out of here.”
She nodded, all business.
With his hand firmly clamped around her arm, he led Faith through the throng, toward the forest that lined the field to the east. It was a more roundabout way back to the village, but once they moved into the trees, it should be less crowded.
They were jostled and shoved, heard the occasional snippy word as they passed, but no one called them out. No one appeared suspicious of his identity or Faith’s.
Once they were swallowed by the forest, he let go a breath of relief, even though there was a whole separate list of dangers in this place. The sun was low on the horizon, casting deep shadows in an already dark place with lots of hiding spaces.
“Stay close,” he commanded, his senses wide open, listening, focusing, preparing. He knew Dru and Preston were doing the same, ready to shift into their wolves at a moment’s notice.
They formed a triangle around Sonara and Faith, who walked side by side between them, not speaking, both also constantly scanning the area. His plan was to skirt the field, then they could leave the woods and walk along the edge, back to the village. The more dangerous forest creatures tended to stay within the cover of the trees, and the two-legged enemy would be easier to spot out in the open.
They didn’t make it that far, although they were close.
A flock of startled birds exploded from a tree a few feet away, screeching excitedly. It was the group’s only warning before two wolves burst through the rose-colored ferns, charging right at them. “Dru, Preston,” he yelled. They’d understand he wanted them to shift, to counterattack.
His job was to protect Faith, which was precisely what he intended to do. He put himself between her and the attackers while Dru and Preston both shifted into their wolves.
They lunged as one, catching their attackers in mid-air and throwing them off course. The four wolves fell to the ground in two heaps, rolling through the dirt and underbrush, sending more forest creatures scurrying for cover.
Preston took a swipe to the snout, blood instantly welling from four long gashes. Sonara gasped. Mikail glanced over his shoulder to see Sonara and Faith clasp hands and edge to the left, and fuck him, they were trying to interfere.
He moved with them, keeping himself between them and the fighting.
“Stop moving,” Sonara finally said after the third attempt to get closer to the four grappling wolves. Claws and fangs slashed and snapped, although from his judgment, Dru and Preston had the advantage. In less than a minute, his team would likely have the two attackers pinned, and if those wolves continued resisting, Dru or Preston would finish them off. No mercy. Not when one attempted to attack the rightful ruler of their kingdom.
“We can help,” Sonara said.
“Absolutely not,” Mikail said with a grunt.
His fatal mistake was in assuming the attackers were after Faith. It was an entirely logical assumption. After all, she was the lost princess Zadkiel had just told the world about.
So when the third wolf leaped out of the underbrush, Mikail automatically adjusted so he was between the wolf and Faith. Meanwhile, Sonara took the opportunity to move closer to the fighting, her arm lifted. It was obvious she was planning to throw magic at them.
The wolf lunged at her, and as Mikail watched—horrified because he was too far away, in the wrong position, and could do nothing to stop what was about to happen—it spread its paw, claws fully extended.
The wolf slashed its sharp, deadly knives across Sonara’s neck and chest, then rushed away without a backward glance.
Sonara’s eyes went wide as she cupped her neck, sliced wide open, the blood pouring through her fingers already coating her chest, the front of her shirt, dripping and making dark splatters in the dirt near her feet. She swayed, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she collapsed.
The other two wolves untangled themselves from the fight and took off, and Mikail became dimly aware that this entire thing had been contrived, except they hadn’t gone after the true prize. They’d chosen Sonara. Why? Was it a case of mistaken identity?
