Authors: Penelope Fletcher
Breandan’s hand reached for mine, and
I took it without thinking. The brilliant glow of his skin
astounded me. He was a beacon of light brighter than the purple
bonfire that raged before us. He pulled me into him, and rather
than hurt my eyes, I could see through the light to the glory of
his face.
“
So beautiful,” he said
quietly as he gazed down on me.
My gaze flicked from his into the
crowd watching us. Many shielded their eyes, but still snuck
glances our way. Intrigued as to what they stared at, I cocked my
head, and looked down at myself. My legs, arms, feet, and hands
glowed. Pulsing like a golden star against the ebony sheath I wore.
My tail coiled into a tight ball at the base of my spine, and my
heart stared to race. I jerked at Breandan’s touch gentle touch,
the tips of his fingers brushing my hair off my neck and over my
shoulder which he gripped.
He saw the fear in my eyes as his
shook his head. “You will accept this,” he said firmly.
His mouth captured mine and the crowd
yelled in delight, stamped their feet in joy. Screams from
were-cats rose in a rising crescendo, and a fierce roar cut above
them all.
Like a ray of clarity through the
smoke and passion, I knew what I was doing, and what I was feeling.
It was the bond, heightening our attraction to each other and our
attractiveness to those around us.
I gasped, and pulled
Breandan’s lips down to meet mine when he tried to lean away,
shocked by my reaction. I stared up at him, daring him to accept me
as I was, complicated and strange, indecisive and selfish. His face
softened and his eyes shone with warmth. Breandan’s hands slipped
under the hem of my dress to stoke the sensitive skin of hip. I
breathed him in, the scent of sunlight and rain, and pressed myself
nearer then whimpered when he crushed me closer. I wanted him. He
was mine, and I wanted him. Possessiveness washed over me like a
poisonous cloud, and I dug my fingertips into his upper arm and
back.
Mine.
I could
hear his heart echo the claim as it thumped against my
chest.
Mine
.
Breandan walked us out of the firelight into the grasslands of the
Pride, and I said nothing. I wanted this, wanted him. I knew that
once this was done he would be insanely possessive, but my body
screamed a need I could no longer ignore.
The feeling that burned at pit of my
stomach crawled through my veins possessed me. I’d never felt
anything remotely like it. His hands rubbed up and down my body,
fingers delving in and out of curves rhythmically. I lay on the
cool grass, his glorious weight pressed into me, the skin of his
chest was hot and smooth against my skin.
Breandan leant up, knelt over me
gazing down, and from his intense expression was trying to bore a
hole through my clothes. Not that he had to; the hem of my skirt
was rumpled and hitched up around my waist. His gaze wandered up,
locked with mine. He was just as lost as me. Ensnared in a trace
and fixated on touching. Fingering the seams of my dress he
abruptly yanked at it, realizing it covered my body from
him.
He lent down to kiss my collarbone
then stiffened and groaned. “You are mine,” he growled.
“
No,” I said, breathless,
and laced my hands together at the nape of his neck to pull him
down. “You’re mine.”
The way his tongue felt when it slid
over mine was amazing. He kissed me hard then sprung up, pulling me
up after him. He cupped my face, silvery eyes luminous and a smile
kicked back one corner of his mouth. “I have something that belongs
to you.”
My eyes drifted closed and I breathed
in deeply. I placed my hands over his, rubbed my face against one
of his hands, but his lighthearted tone had my brows furrowing
distrustfully. Nothing Breandan said was lighthearted. He was a
serious demon who had bouts of mania. That was his fairy nature and
I was becoming accustomed to it.
Sighing at how wonderful it felt for
him to touch me this way, I cricked an eye open, sensing his
restless excitement. “Say-say?” I asked, still
suspicious.
His hand slipped into his pocket and
his fingers came up with a chain of flat, gold links. It was short,
the length of one of my hands, and as slender as my baby finger. On
each elliptical segment was engraved a rune of power. It was
simple, caught the lunar light, and sparkled – a bracelet,
perhaps?
Mesmerized I touched it with the tip
of my finger and was gifted with a zap. That should have been my
first clue, but it was so appealing and shiny. I forgot I was wary
of him and this pretty ornament and hovered my finger over it,
mouth parted in awe. “Beautiful,” I breathed.
“
I know you are, but this
is no trinket. It is a sign of your birthright.”
He blurred into movement, and before I
could object, he pressed the links into my forehead.
I jolted as the metal
warmed, biting into my skin. I scrabbled to yank it from my face
but still the … the …
teeth
sank into my forehead over my brow, temple to
temple. I shrieked and jumped about, using my nails to find an edge
to pick under. Nope, I did manage to dig myself in the face. It
hurt, so I stopped and stood still, trembling as the links fused to
my head and got hotter and hotter until it felt like my forehead
burned.
The fire stopped, cooling until the
metal was blessedly cold against my skin. My eyes rolled back as
far as they could go and I could see a faint glimmering where the
links sparkled. At least it had not sunken into my head entirely.
Little by little, I raised my hand in hesitant jerks and touched
it. My fingers slid across velvety gold, so slick it felt slippery.
But then I noticed faint scratches, ah, the symbols of power. I
rubbed it at the edges, amazed at how the metal changed to smooth
skin and back again. My hand fell to my side and I heaved a sigh,
praying for patience. I looked at Breandan trying to decide the
best course of action. I could try and pound on him. The important
word being ‘try’. I had only tried, and failed, to hit him once
before, and I would never come close. I could scream and rail at
him, possibly throw a few sharp rocks. But could I be bothered?
Should I calmly ask him what this thing merged to my forehead was,
and what it meant?
“
What the hell are you
playing at?” I planted my palms on his stomach and shoved him. He
shunted back a pace and fought what looked suspiciously like a
smirk. “You can’t push these things on me and expect me to accept
them.”
“
If I had told you what it
meant and what would happen you never would have taken
it.”
“
Why can’t you see this was
not your choice to make?”
His jaw clenched, all lightheartedness
gone. “You need to come to terms with who you are.”
I stomped my foot. “You can’t railroad
me into being something I’m not.”
“
If I don’t push you won’t
move,” he said with an icy veneer of calm. “You need to be strong
for what’s ahead yet you bury yourself in doubt, and hide behind
this façade of a simple girl when you have been born a warrior,
born a leader.”
I looked away, gritting my teeth and
forcing down the tears that welled in my eyes. It would not cut so
deep if he was wrong about everything. I kept trying to make him
see my point of view but he had so much evidence to fall back on.
All I had was a general feeling of doom.
“
Can you explain it to me?”
he asked. “Tell me why you’re fighting this.”
Rubbing my nose, my gaze fell from his
perfect face, and I sighed deeply. “You know yourself, what you are
capable of, and what is beyond you, right? I mean, you would never
try to move a mountain with your magic because you know trying to
would take more magic that you can handle.” He was quiet, allowing
me the time to order my thoughts and explain what I was feeling.
“Well, for the last few days everyone has been telling me I’m
destined to be the next Priestess, that I’m going to lead the fairy
race into a new era, and stop all the strife between the demons and
the humans.” I paused, struggling once again to come to terms with
how I felt and what it meant. Saying it loud had my heart thumping
painfully and my stomach doing back flips. Just the thought of all
that responsibility made me uncomfortably hot.
Breandan pushed my hair aside and
placed a warm, soothing palm on the nape of my neck. “Whatever you
say will be okay with me.”
Breathing out in a rush, I splayed my
hands out in front of me in a purposeful manner. “I know myself. I
know what I am capable of and my limits. I believe that I can help
the demons and humans come together. I feel that.” I pressed a hand
to my chest. “That feels real and obtainable to me. But beyond that
… becoming the fairies spiritual guide…” I looked him in the
eye. “I don’t love them like you do. When I look into the future, I
see nothing, but you. I am not who I used to be, and I do believe I
have a purpose, but it’s not what you and Conall think it
is.”
“
You will grow to love
them?”
“
That is not true and that
is why you phrased it as a question.”
A muscle in his cheek twitched and he
clenched his jaw. “Why can you not move past this? Accept all of
who you are.”
“
Because I know the road
you’re trying to lead me down is wrong. I’m not the wisest of
people, or the bravest, but recently I have come to trust in my
instincts and the more I listen to them the more everything makes
sense to me.” His face was stubbornly set and I placed my hand on
his chest. “Tell me, has there ever been a Priestess before who was
not bound to the High Lord?” Breandan shook his head. “Does this
not tell you everything you need to know about what my future
holds? Why has magic allowed me to form such a bond with a male
other than the High Lord? Does that not seem
wrong
to you? Besides, how can I hope
to rule alongside Lochlann when I can barely stand him?”
“
He is difficult but he has
a good heart. We can work around it. Find a way to–”
“
Do you want me to go to
your brother?”
His brows lowered and his eyes blazed.
“No. Never. You are mine.”
“
Then listen to what I am
saying. The Priestess is always the mate of the High Lord.
Always.”
“
I have no desire to be
High Lord,” Breandan said carefully, weighing his words. “I do not
wish any harm to come to my family.”
My mouth fell open. “I wasn’t
suggesting we … no you have me wrong.” I waved my hands about. “I
didn’t mean you should be High Lord, though I’m sure you’d be great
at it.” I gave him a weak smile. “I was trying to point out that
you and Conall keep drumming it into me that there are rules that
must be followed. This keeps everything in check, in balance. Why
am I being allowed to break those rules?”
His finger ran down the bridge of my
nose and a feeling of peace washed over me. “You are
special.”
Nothing I said was going to get
through to him. Pushing my hair back from my face, knuckling my
forehead and somehow already used to the feel of cold metal I
exhaled sharply. “I can’t take this thing off, can I?”
Still cautious, watching to see how I
would try to hurt him he shook his head. “No. Not until
death.”
Well hell, I was pretty much stuck
with it then. Slanting him a look under my lashes I curled my lip
at him. “Can I at least know what is it?”
“
The circlet announces you
to be the Priestess. No fairy can look on you now and not know who
you are. All will know your importance and authority over
them.”
“
Why didn’t you give this
to me before?”
“
You had not accepted who
you were. You were barely able to hear about your mother. Conall
picked it up before we left Orchard and I swore I would give it to
you.”
I plucked at my bottom lip as I
thought on this then could not help but touch it again. I was in
awe of … of what? Myself? “Why now? Does it matter?”
“
This is important. If I am
dead you will be protected.”
“
You will never die,” I
said confidently.
His expression shifted from defensive
to indulgent. “Hmm.”
He took my hand and towed me after
him. I followed happily, poking and prodding at this new part of
me. It was true what he said; this thing was never coming off.
Those teeth I had felt biting into my skin had anchored themselves
in deep. Noticing he seemed to have a specific direction in mind
rather than a random walk, I began to take an interest in our
direction.
Since I had become fairy, my sense of
direction had improved vastly. I could tell when the land climbed
or when it sloped. I knew where there was a rocky place or one that
was dense with flora humming with life. I had even become
accustomed to the nagging buzz that was constantly on the edge of
my mind. At some point the day before I’d realized what I saw were
people’s auras. When I closed my eyes and stretched my influence
beyond myself, I had touched on other receptive minds by accident,
not realizing that I was drawn to them by the buzz. When I closed
my eyes, I could sense live things and that was probably why my
sense of direction was so good.