Chapter 3

Three

She wasn't what I imagined she'd be. The problem was I'd been thinking of her as a small child. My search for her using Gwendazelle had been fruitless for so many months. Who knew the half-breed fae would move right into dark fae territory so close to my own home?

It was the gods' doing. They'd wanted me to find her.

I followed her scent through the small tavern and house since she'd practically run from the room. She'd try to run again, I was certain.

Just as I knew that ambassador and his guards would attack me once we left here. This was a small clan of wood fae. I'd discovered their lord had moved them here to avoid the war, and since the war was over, I'd thought he would have moved them back to their homeland in Lumeria. No matter the wraith king now occupied both Northgall and Lumeria, they'd have likely been more at ease back in their own part of the world.

Murgha was certainly not safe here. She stood out, not just as a light fae who didn't belong in the dark fae realm, but as a half-breed moon and wood fae who didn't fit in among her own kind. Not one wood fae had hair and eyes like hers.

That's because it was a trait only passed down in the noble line of the moon fae, pure bloods believed to be descended from the Moon Goddess Lumera herself. And Murgha most definitely carried that blood in her veins.

Winding through the residence, I stepped into her bedchamber, smaller than the closet for my armor and weapons back in the Solgavia Mountains. Her nervous gaze flicked to mine, but she continued to pack the clothes from the small trunk at the foot of her bed into a cloth satchel. She kept silent but watchful while I remained at the doorway.

After she'd emptied whatever was in the trunk, she cinched the rope of the small pack and turned to me, lifting her chin defiantly. She didn't question who I was, why I'd come, or where I was taking her. She simply looped a shabby green cloak around her shoulders, buckled the clasp, and waited.

Puzzled, I nodded at the door. "Come."

Then I turned and exited through the back door rather than going through the tavern. I heard her light footsteps following. Otherwise, I would've spun around and lifted her over my shoulder to take her from this place.

As it was, I should've come sooner. There was a bluish tinge beneath her eyes and she was far too thin. She wasn't being cared for properly by that worthless father of hers. Who wasn't her father at all.

But I'd been too distracted by what was happening in Gadlizel. By serving my prince, I'd been neglecting my oath to my own father. My gut clenched at the sourness of it.

What if I hadn't been stationed a few, short leagues from here? What if Gwenda hadn't brought me the message in time that the innkeeper was gambling away his daughter to a lascivious piece of filth from Mevia?

When we stepped outside, I swept the area but found no sign of the ambassador and his guards. Not even the girl's reprobate of a father. Nor did I see any wood fae coming to protest that a demon fae was stealing away with one of their clanswomen.

I snorted at the indignity of it. They'd let me take her with not even the smallest objection or struggle.

Above us, we were shrouded by a thick canopy of black oak trees. The branches were too thick and would likely scrape the female if I tried to fly straight out of here. It wouldn't bother me in my armor, but her dress was threadbare, and the cloak she wore was no better. I'd have to find some better clothing for her before we reached Solgavia.

The clearing where I'd landed and had come into the village was only a little ways through the woods. We could lift off from there.

"This way, female," I called over my shoulder.

She scowled, but followed me, which for some reason made me smile. Anger burned hotly beneath that glower of hers, her thumping heartbeat a sweet, tantalizing thrum in the air. My canines ached at the thought of tasting her.

That was unusual. Startling, even. Especially when I let my mind wander to its deeper meaning. But that couldn't be so.

Shaking it off, I commanded, "Walk beside me. There may be brigands in the forest ahead."

I hated traveling by foot. There were all manner of opportunists in these dense woods far from civilization, waiting to rob or do worse to travelers.

"The only brigand I see is walking in front of me." Her voice was sweet as pure honey, but her words were laced with poison.

Yet again, I fought a smile. She was feisty, the little moon fae.

"I'm no cutthroat, Murgha, but I will cut a throat when necessary."

She went quiet after that. I should try to put her at ease rather than frighten her, but fear was a good motivator. And until we were far from her village, I needed to keep her moving by whatever means necessary.

The last light of dusk filtered through the trees at an angle. I glanced up at the flash of blue of Gwenda zipping overhead.

"How do you know my name?" came the quiet question behind me.

I stopped and turned to face her. She froze on the path, not moving any closer but not stepping back either when I erased the short space between us.

"That's what you want to know?" Of all the things she could ask me, I was somehow surprised that was the first.

"I don't know you," she declared with her chin tilted up, though she couldn't keep her voice from trembling, "but you know my name."

That was a story I couldn't tell her here. "We're almost to the clearing. We need to keep moving."

Suddenly, Gwenda chirped a high trill from the branches above, giving me a second's notice before they fell on me. I shoved Murgha to the side and whipped around, blade swiping through the air.

My short-sword sliced into the moon fae's shoulder. He cried out and dropped the serrated knife he'd been about to bury into my back, his dark blue wings flapping and pulling him out of reach.

Instantly, I ducked, sensing another one diving at me on the right. He missed my neck but slashed across my left wing, the pain sharp. Growling, I stabbed straight into his throat, my sharp black steel burying deep. His eyes went round in shock that his life was over so quickly.

"You should've let it go," I advised him before I yanked my short-sword free and gave him a shove.

He fell backward, crimson blood instantly soaking the grassy path. When I turned, the other guard was still groaning on the ground, holding his bleeding arm.

Striding to him, I stepped on his wing to get his attention and pointed the tip of my blade at his throat.

He froze, staring up at me, hatred in his gaze. "You cheated, you fucking bastard."

He was right. "It doesn't matter," I said casually. "The female is mine regardless."

A sharp twinge twisted in my chest at the truth of the words. I hadn't meant them in the way her father, and even that ambassador, thought of her as their property. I'd meant she was mine to protect. By a solemn vow I would not break. Not for anyone. Still, the possessiveness of the words rang true, burrowing deeper, etching into my very bones.

"Don't try to follow us. I won't be so forgiving the next time," I promised him, then nicked his chin for good measure. He flinched and whimpered but still didn't move as the trickle of red trailed down his throat.

Certain that I'd made my point, I looked back toward the village. No one else was coming to fetch the half-breed moon fae who'd been gambled away by her father like a piece of copper. It was sickening. And these two guards had only come to try to win back their honor since they realized I'd tricked them.

Re-sheathing my blade, I turned to find that Murgha wasn't waiting close by. She wasn't anywhere. Huffing, I nearly laughed.

Of course, she'd run. I strode down the path toward her scent—a mixture of lemon, lavender, and spice. It lingered in the air, a teasing aroma that yet again made my canines ache.

My desire was unexpected, and yet the burning heat of want curled hotly inside me all the same. A growl rumbled in my chest before I beat my wings and flew after her beneath the high branches, seeking my prey.