Chapter 6

Six

Isat back down cross-legged, tucking my skirt over my knees, and then stared at the wood sprite. I finally knew why she'd been following me for so many months. Well, sort of knew.

"Hi." I waved.

She lifted her wing again.

"Can you speak?" I asked.

"I speak," she said in a high-pitched voice.

I smiled. "You're very pretty."

She made a chirping trill sound, flew down to the wooden plank right in front of me, and said excitedly, "You're very pretty, too. And kind. I like you very much."

I laughed. "How do you know I'm kind?"

"You speak to the trees and flowers. They listen," she told me with deep sincerity in her round, black eyes. "I see you bring meals to the old fae lady who lives alone by the willow tree. I see you bring berries and nuts to the lame male who loves them but cannot walk far and find them himself."

I hadn't realized she'd watched me that much. I'd only seen her on occasion, mostly when I went into the woods.

My thoughts turned back to the shadow fae. "Why has he been making you follow me?" I pointed to the opening in the branches above us.

She shook her head. "He will tell you."

"What's his name?"

"Vallon."

His name soaked into my skin, and some tremble of awareness awoke inside me at hearing his name. A prickle of magick hummed quietly, as if waiting.

Waiting for what?

"He is a very important priest to the king." Then she added, "And the prince."

That only gave me more questions. "I just don't understand why a shadow fae I've never met, or even heard, of would have any interest in me."

"He will tell you," she repeated, blinking those large eyes sweetly.

So she wasn't going to give me any information about how or why I'd come to be here. Perhaps she'd tell me something else.

"How did you and Vallon become friends?"

Her smile widened to reveal a row of white serrated teeth. "That's a lovely story." She flew closer and perched on my knee, her talons pricking gently through my skirt. "Actually"—her pale blue brow scrunched into a frown—"it's a scary and sad story. Can I tell you a scary story?"

I nodded, instantly mesmerized before she said a word.

"My family and I lived in the woods at the foot of the Solgavia Mountains until we were hunted by evil creatures."

"What kind of creatures?"

"It was a flock of snow hawks."

"A flock?" I asked, puzzled. "But snow hawks are solitary birds."

And how could they be evil?

"Yes, they usually are." She bent her long legs and wrapped her blue wings around herself until only her tiny head peeked out. "But there was something wrong with them. My father and mother used their magick to try and stun them as they attacked." She shook her head. "But nothing could stop them. I was a mere nestling, but I saw them rip my father to pieces, and one of them carried my mother away in its sharp talons."

"I am so sorry." My heart ached for her, for I could see the pain etched in her face.

"I heard the cries of my siblings as I tried to fly away. We all flew from our nest in our home-tree, trying to hide in the woods. But one of the hawks caught me in his big claws." She sniffed, blinking her eyes sadly, but then her face brightened. "Suddenly, a giant shadow fae was there. He snatched the hawk by the throat and twisted its neck. It dropped me right into the fae's palm." She stood again and opened her wings. "The shadow fae was Vallon."

I had surmised that, but I didn't let on. "How fortunate he was there to save you."

"Yes, yes. He is my best friend." She made a sad chirping sound. "We couldn't find my siblings. They'd been taken away by the hawks. Vallon said there was a sickness inside of them since they didn't behave like regular hawks, and I agreed with him. Hawks don't prey on magickal creatures like wood sprites. But they weren't just sick. They were evil. I felt it, and I told him so."

I wondered at that. How could natural creatures be infected or tainted by some kind of evil? I'd never heard of such a thing.

"So you live with Vallon in Gadlizel?" I asked.

"Yes, yes. He is my family now."

Wood sprites typically lived in small families with other sprites. How curious, and even sweet, that Gwenda had attached herself to Vallon. But I suppose that would be natural if he saved her from certain death.

"You will like living in his villa. It is very beautiful."

I sat straighter suddenly, which had her puff out her feathers.

"Live with him?" My voice rose with shock. "Why on earth would I live with him?"

She blinked her dark eyes owlishly. "Because you are his to protect."

I laughed. "I don't even know him. By the gods, what in the world is going on?"

Then a flapping of giant wings raised my attention above me, his wingspan blocking out the stars as he lowered through the opening.

My breath caught as I took stock of him yet again. He was an extremely large male, his wings making him appear even more imposing. But it was the stark beauty of his face and his glittering red eyes that held me so captive and had my heart skittering faster as he landed on the far side of the coal-fire.

He carried an already skinned rabbit on a skewer and a bundle in his arms. His gaze swept over me as if he were looking for something, like he was ensuring himself I was still in one piece. Gwendazelle flitted to perch on the branch closest to the fire and cocooned herself into her feathers.

He settled the skewer crossways over the coal-fire. It fit perfectly into grooves on either side of the portable pit, obviously made for it.

"I've never seen such an efficient thing as that. Do the shadow fae make them?"

"No. They're a beast fae invention. Though the beast fae prefer natural fire over the blue coal."

"Why is that?" I asked.

He stepped around the fire and handed me the bundle of cloth. "The beast fae prefer the natural over magickal elements."

"What is this?" I stared down in my lap, seeing lacings. They were clothes.

"Those will suit you better and keep you warmer on our travels. I hope they fit. Change into them. I'll be back shortly."

Then with another whoosh, he was gone. Gwenda's eyes blinked sleepily, so I didn't bother her.

I unfolded the clothes in my lap. There was a pair of dark blue trousers made of a finer cloth than I'd had access to in our village. It was a thicker fabric, as was the beige blouse that laced in the front. There was also a black leather belt and a heavy coat.

Standing, I held out the coat that would hit my calves when I wore it. It was made of a deerskin pelt that had been smoothed into the softest leather, the color a pale brown, like cinnamon bark tea with the heavy cream I cherished whenever we could afford it.

We? There was no more "we," Papa and I. Tessa had been gone for almost a year, and it had felt less and less like home every season without her.

I'd always pretended that one day Papa would see me as his daughter and treat me as a cherished child, the way he had treated Tessa, his true-born daughter. But that had never happened. If I needed further proof of my worth to him, I only needed to remember that he had gambled me away like a piece of property.

I sniffed at the sting of it, blinking away the tears. I suppose it was only natural that a new life would garner me new clothes. Though I wasn't sure who this Vallon was, I was certain he had no intention of hurting me. Not only had he given me no reason to believe he would, but I sensed it with that inner whisper that sometimes spoke to me.

It didn't speak literally, but there had been moments when I simply knew something to be true. My magick, latent though it had been, would ripple along my skin and warm my body when it was trying to tell me something.

Gwenda said that I was under his protection. It was more than Papa had ever given me. So maybe this wasn't a terrible turn of events, but a new start. The thought of going back to the inn to Papa now made me nauseous.

Gwenda was now asleep, and I was sure Vallon had left me in privacy to change, so I stripped down to my shift, even removing the leather strap for my dagger, which was still missing. I was suddenly eager to put on these new clothes, to remove my old ones—my old life. When I picked up the shirt, an undergarment fell out.

It was made of the gossamer material of a chemise, though finer than my own. Removing my well-worn shift, I pulled the new one over my head. It had lacings at the bodice that tightened the chemise and held my breasts firmly in place. Not that mine were very big, but it felt good to have an undergarment that supported me there.

My old one was little more than a thin barrier so that I wouldn't chafe against the harsher wool dresses I owned.

My new chemise fell just past my hips. There were no other undergarments to wear beneath the trousers. When I pulled them on, they were of a thick material, but soft. I liked the feel of my new clothes as I added each layer.

When I saw my scabbard laying on the ground, I removed it from the leather strap and fitted it onto my new belt at my waist. When Vallon returned, I'd demand my dagger back.

By the time I pulled on the long coat, I was smiling and wishing I had a looking glass to see myself. The new clothes didn't only fit my body, they fit me. They made me feel stronger somehow, more confident.

The tell-tale flapping of giant wings warned me of his arrival. This time, I prepared for his overpowering presence.

When he landed, his gaze skated over me again, another inspection, but this time it was a slow perusal. When I glanced down at myself, I realized how well the clothes fit my petite figure and wondered where he'd gotten them.

"Where and how did you find clothes like this so fast? They fit perfectly."

"I see that," he drawled, standing very still as he continued to drink me in.

Heat flared in my cheeks. That was an expression I'd seen before on men. Many looked at me in such a way, some even offering gifts to seduce me. One traveler had outright offered coin for a night in my bed. But I'd avoided all of them, even the admirers I liked.

I was aware that as a half-breed, I wasn't an enticing catch as a wife. The males I'd admired in our clan never saw me that way.

The only time I'd ever let myself believe it was when Dellyn, the smithy's son, had started courting me. It was right after Tessa's disappearance, and so I'd gravitated toward his company and attention easily. I was lonely.

Dellyn had come to the inn often for that month, staying much longer after a meal and a pint of mead. We'd talked about our days, about the weather, about the war and hoping it would end.

One night, he'd left me a ring. It was fashioned from iron, not a precious metal, but it was intricately engraved with a vine of leaves. I remember that tender feeling that someone cared about me blooming in my chest.

I'd risen early the next morning before we opened the inn and tavern and gone to the blacksmith shop to thank him. I'd met with his father, who asked why I wanted to see his son. I remember the disapproving scowl he'd given me as I stood in his open doorway.

When I glanced down at the ring on my finger, the smithy seemed to realize what had happened. Perhaps he'd even seen his son forge it at their kiln because then he'd asked, "Did Dellyn give that to you?"

I was frozen, not knowing what to say, because his voice was harsh, angry, and obviously disapproving. Then Dellyn entered the room, and his father commanded darkly, "Whatever game you're playing, son, you best end it. Now."

That was when Dellyn took me outside, not angry with me but frustrated that I'd come to see him, to thank him. Because I was a green girl when it came to relationships with males, I'd asked him if he was courting me to be his wife.

Dellyn had flushed red and shook his head. "Not to be my wife. You know I could never take you as a wife. But I would be a good and kind lover to you, Murgha."

The way he'd offered to be my lover, like it was a gift, and then told me I could never be his wife, like the idea was preposterous, still tore me up inside to this day. That was when I realized I was a loathsome creature as a half-breed, an unwanted child born of a deceiving wife who cuckolded her husband. Perhaps they thought my mother's blood had tainted me to be the same sort of female. An unfaithful one. A female only good enough to warm their beds but never to let into their hearts.

I'd handed him his ring and walked back to the inn with my head lifted and tears streaming down my cheeks. I'd never needed Tessa more than that moment.

But that day had taught me a fine lesson. That no matter what other males thought of me and the blood coursing through my half-breed veins, I was an honorable fae, and I would be a loyal wife if I ever found a male worthy of my love. So I guarded the one thing I could offer a true husband more preciously. I'd vowed not to give my virtue to any man but my husband.

Tessa had thought me silly since she'd had a few lovers and told me it was fun and pleasurable. But Tessa was a pure-blood wood fae. And men didn't look at her the way they did me. She couldn't understand why I was so wary of men.

So the shadow fae standing before me, giving my appearance a thorough and approving perusal, could look all his fill. Even if his heated gaze made warmth bloom beneath my skin with desire, I would not give him what he wanted.

"You know lots of small fae females you can snatch nice clothing from?" I asked.

That seemed to snap him out of his stupor. He settled back on his side of the coal-fire and turned the rabbit on its spit. The heat from the blue coal seemed to be cooking it quicker than a natural flame.

"I know a wraith fae female who lives in the Borderlands close by. She sold me the clothes."

"And you caught a hare as well in that short time? You're quite an efficient male."

His brow puckered uncomfortably, and a swath of pink climbed his neck. Was he actually blushing?

"She had been hunting so I bought the rabbit from her as well." He found my gaze across the coal-fire when I sat back down, cross-legged. "I thought you'd be hungry."

I was, but I had more important things to tend to than my stomach.

"Your name is Vallon." I nodded to the sleeping wood sprite. "Gwenda told me. What's your full name?"

His pause was brief then, "I am Lord Vallon of House Hennawyn, high priest of Gadlizel."

There was pride in his voice as he stated his name. As there should be. I knew by the four horns curling out of his head that he was a noble-born dark fae. And by the gold rings decorating them, I was aware he had high status.

Even so, hearing him say it made me understand why this shadow fae carried himself with such confidence and importance. He should be confident. Because he was important.

"And why has a high priest noble kidnapped a common-born wood fae?"

His gaze was sharp and assessing. This was the warrior I'd seen walk through Papa's tavern door.

Fierce yet cool, he held my gaze as he told me with unwavering certainty, "It was my father's dying wish. As well as yours."