I rounded a corner and almost smacked into Winona, coming
from the other direction. She always took care to make the most of her
appearance, but in battle gear she was stunning-a goddess of war. She crossed
her arms below her full chest and jiggled a long leg impatiently as she looked
down her nose at me.
“What’s taking you so long,” she hissed, “scared?” She
gave me a wicked grin and glided back the way she had come.
I skulked along behind her, anger simmering just below the
surface. All of our clan participated in regular training, preparing us to entering
battle on our eighteenth birthday. However, our father insisted that Winona
and I also undergo rigorous personal training under his watchful eye. One day,
Winona would be queen. And I would be her general of war, her sword and her
shield.
Winona’s steps slowed, allowing me to catch up to her
long-legged stride. “Nice scarf,” she said mockingly.
When I didn’t say anything, she gave me a sidelong look. “I’m
glad I let you have that boy.” She fingered the hilt of the small dagger
tucked into her belt, making me think she was anything but. “If he gave me a hickey
like that, I’d have to kill him.” I gritted my teeth. I had hoped she
wouldn’t notice the scarf.
I shrugged and didn’t say anything. Let her think I was
hiding a hickey. It would have to be one hell of a love bite if it was still
visible this morning, but that’s why she was taunting me. It made her feel
better to think he’d been rough and awkward- not good enough for her.
I couldn’t help myself. “It was worth it,” I said, my
voice dreamy. She flushed red and I grinned. I shouldn’t tease her. I’d just
pay for it in the training room.
We arrived at our destination and Winona flung the doors
open, nearly hitting me with the heavy wooden planks. She tried to trip me as
I passed, but I hopped over her foot and continued on my way, used to her
pestering. Our father sat at one end of the long room in a big wooden chair
that looked like a rustic throne. A long table at his side held an array of
wooden practice weapons. Today was sparring day.
I watched Winona out of the side of my eye until I was sure
she actually took off her wicked dagger. I wouldn’t put it past her to bring a
real weapon into the ring. I gathered up my usual gear then hesitated, my hand
hovering over a dart gun meant to simulate a pistol. Generally, enchanted
blades would do more damage to a Fallen than a gun, but I supposed that
depended on how you used the gun. I thought of my visitor the day before,
nearly helpless without his wings. My fingers wrapped around the wooden handgrip.
I tucked the gun into my harness, ignoring Winona’s disdainful snort.
We entered the practice floor and I immediately braced
myself. Winona always took the first strike. I parried and danced aside,
making sure to get further away from her than I thought necessary. She was
tall, with a long reach and a heavy hand that had left me bruised on more than
one occasion. We struck and parried for some time, using the long, heavy
double-edged swords.
Winona struck at me and I twisted my sword, trapping her
blade in my hilt and bringing her in close to nullify that terrible reach. She
laughed and leaned in. “This is really going to hurt,” she warned, her eyes
glinting with a vindictive light. She stomped on my foot, grinding the heel of
her boot into the top of my foot. Spinning, I dropped my sword and lifted my
other foot, taking her behind the knees in a leg sweep. I crouched as she
tumbled to the floor with a curse.
We were both conscious of the king’s eyes on us, evaluating,
and I braced myself for the onslaught. Winona hated to be embarrassed in front
of Father. She was his golden child, and she failed at nothing. I felt her
magic gathering around her and frowned. She was going to use her aura to give
her an advantage.
Winona flew at me with one of the short daggers, her speed
increasing with her power. I blocked her strike and the wooden prop scored a
deep furrow into my forearm. I bared my teeth at her in displeasure. We were
supposed to use a bit of restraint during sparring- not pull any punches, but
not go for the kill either. She was going to cross the line, as usual. I
rolled away and she stepped on the hand holding my dagger, crushing my
fingers. I let it go, yanking my hand away, continuing to roll.
I darted out of her way, but I was too slow without my
power and she landed a kick to my ribs before I was out of reach. Sucking in a
breath, I pulled on my own aura, careful to never meet Winona’s eyes and
contest her dominance. The powerful blonde kept coming, fury driving her
movements. She had the need to be the best, and usually I stepped aside, but
for some reason today I was suddenly tired of living in her shadow. I lashed
out, scoring a kick to her middle and she slid to a crouch a few feet away,
holding her stomach with one arm.
Smiling, I pulled my “gun” and squeezed off six shots, three
over each of her shoulders. She looked at me like I was an idiot. “You
missed,” she said smugly.
I tossed the gun aside and fell into a defensive posture.
I was down to hand-to-hand now. “No I didn’t,” I said calmly, risking a glance
toward father. “I just took out her wings.”
Winona’s face twisted into a wicked snarl as she realized I
had just won. Guns weren’t much use against a Fallen, but if you took out
their wings, they were handicapped. “Too bad I’m not one of them,” she
hissed. Then she was on me, wrestling me to the ground.
She braced a forearm across my throat, crushing my windpipe.
Dad didn’t intervene. His policy had always been to let us sort it out
ourselves. After all, there was no referee on the battlefield. The blood
pounded in my head, and my vision began to go all sparkly around the edges
before I managed to wriggle out of her grasp. I pushed myself to my feet and
stood, panting. My face was stinging where she had scratched me, trying to
claw my eyes out. I could feel my aura building with my anger. Winona was
poised to lunge again. Fed up, I met her eyes. “Knock it off!”
It only lasted a split second before I realized what I had
just done and jerked my gaze to the side. She slid to a halt, hitting her
knees and bowing her head involuntarily. The moment my eyes left hers, she
leapt to her feet and tried to act as if she were unaffected. But it was too
late. Father was on his feet, staring.
Winona was the eldest daughter and heir to the throne. She
was dominant to everyone around her. That she wasn’t dominant to me was a
secret we had kept from our father for years. Her for obvious reasons, me
because I knew he would punish me. A redheaded, younger daughter could never
be queen. I clenched my fists. In a different time, I would have been killed
at birth.
Winona was furious, she closed the distance between us,
blood in her eyes. I didn’t react, ready to let her win the physical
confrontation if it appeased her and Father. Maybe it would look like the
dominance thing had been a fluke. I braced myself, but she struck where I
least expected it, grasping the scarf that peeked past my shirt collar.
“Where were you during meeting hall yesterday?” She said
loudly. Then she jerked the scarf off my neck, popping the top buttons of my
shirt in the process.
I covered my throat, but it was too late. The “hickey” was
revealed, and Winona gasped. “That’s not a shifter bite!” She took three
rapid steps backward in shock.
“Stop!” Father’s voice boomed, and we froze. The defiance
flowed out of me and I stood, quaking, in the middle of the room facing my
family.
Winona stared at me, wide eyed. “You’ve been bitten,” she
whispered.
Father sank back into his chair, scrubbing a thick hand
over his craggy face. A sturdy, powerful warrior, it was wrong to see him
looking so defeated. “Where did you go during meeting?”
I swallowed, not knowing what to say, how to explain. “She
left with a boy,” Winona said, crossing her arms, “we all thought he was a
visiting Shifter.”
Dad sat up. His expression was thunderous, his face ruddy
with rage. “Wren, come here.”
He pointed to the floor at his feet. With dragging steps,
I made my way there and knelt in front of him. He gestured for Winona and she
came to stand at his side. Lifting a hand, my father struck me across the
face. Sparkles danced across my vision for a moment, and I tasted blood in my
mouth, from my cut cheek. Then he pulled a long, wicked-looking knife from his
belt.
“Winona is my heir,” he said slowly. “It is your duty to
protect her.” He took a deep breath. “You realize, Wren, that you’ve put your
sister’s position in jeopardy?”
I nodded, probing the inside of my check with my tongue. “I’m
sorry.”
“It is your duty to support your sister, to be her shield
and protector as she rules. How can we trust you to do that when you may be
under the influence of the enemy? When you have been dirtied and corrupted?”
He never asked me what had happened. He just assumed that
I had voluntarily consorted with the enemy. He was right, of course, but
still- if it were Winona, I’m sure he would assume that she had been attacked.
Maybe he was disappointed that I hadn’t been able to fight off one little
Fallen Angel.
I swallowed, defiance warring with my fear. I wasn’t
dirty. I wasn’t a disgrace. I wasn’t weak. But doubt twisted its way into my
head and I wondered. Maybe I was all of those things. I had never valued my
position. I hated politics and fighting, and I hated living in Winona’s
shadow- hated it so much I would do anything for a bit of excitement, even hide
an enemy. Something in me rebelled at our very way of life.
Father stood and handed me the knife. “You will swear a
blood oath to Winona this moment. Your life is for her.”
I wanted to argue. I wanted to beg, plead, and insist
that my life was for me. But I didn’t. He was right. I was only here to make
her stronger. I had betrayed my family by acting so recklessly. I held out my
hand and his knife sliced across my palm. The soft pat-a-pat of my blood
hitting the stone floor was loud in my ears, as I said the oath, giving away
what was left of my freedom.
*****
I sat under the spreading box elder tree by the training
field, a bandana wrapped around my hand, and a bland look plastered on my
face. The look was wearing thin in spots. The scowl might be starting to show
through.
There was a soft shush of footsteps and I looked up,
expecting to see Logan- my best friend always knew when I was in trouble, and just
where to find me. Instead, a pair of tall, feminine boots filled my vision.
Winona plopped down next to me, drawing her long legs to her chin as she stared
out across the field.
“Did you get the poison out?” Her voice was flat.
I curled my fingers around my throbbing palm, clutching
the bandana tight. “Why did you do it?”
She lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I didn’t
know what was under the scarf. I thought it was a hickey.”
I snorted. “Knowing wouldn’t have stopped you.”
“No. It wouldn’t have.”
I shook my head, not getting her at all. “Why do you hate
me so much?”
The leaves overhead rustled in the breeze. A strand of
golden hair escaped Winona’s braid and danced in the wind like a silk ribbon.
“I’m going to be queen.” She finally said. “No one is going to wear my
mother’s crown but me.” She turned her violet eyes on me. “Not even you.”
I raised my eyebrows at her. “I don’t want it.”
She folded her legs, so that she sat Indian-style. “Not
now. But what about later? What happens when someone finds out that you’re an
alpha and I’m not?”
I stared at her, wondering if she’d lost her mind.
“Everyone in this kingdom dislikes me as much as you do,” I said, my voice
petulant. “And no one would ever think of putting a red wolf on the throne. I
don’t think you ever have to worry about that.”
She stood, pausing to gaze down at me. “I’m glad you
swore that oath.” She gestured at my bandaged hand. “You have to follow me.
If you ever betray me or endanger our people, even if you are my sister, I’ll
take you out. And if you ever try to take my place, I’ll reveal your sick
little secret. They might overlook your hair color because you’re an alpha-
but no one will overlook what you’ve done.”
I frowned and looked away, wishing I could just stand up
and start walking. I would keep walking until I reached the forest over
there. Then I’d keep walking until I saw the sea. I wouldn’t ever have to see
her face again. Instead, I just sat there, fuming.
“Use ice,” she said softly. “It will keep the poison from
spreading and you’ll heal a little faster.” Then she turned and stalked away.
*****
In my dream, I am free. I trip merrily down the stairs
to the front hall. I am wearing a dress, a full-skirted thing like my sister
would wear, with a high neck and puffed sleeves. In my dream, my dress is
beautiful, and Winona’s friends aren’t there to ridicule me for my flat chest
and broad shoulders.
I am light and free… happy. I rush across the yard and
to the meadow. The blond boy is waiting for me. He smiles. I take his hand
and a breeze ripples the light layers of my dress. I feel warm in the
sunshine. His hand wraps around mine and I feel safe.
He leads me toward the woods. A figure is waiting
there, tall and dark-haired with huge black wings and a shadowy face. My eyes
dart to the boy. No one else can know we’re friends. He only smiles.
Comforting. Warm.
The dark Fallen Angel takes the boy’s hand. He smiles
at me with long, wicked fangs, his wide mouth the one feature I can see
clearly. He is leading the boy toward the woods. The boy stretches out his
hand, but I can’t take it. Don’t go.