My kingdom was nowhere near as beautiful, but when the land finally shed its winter coat and warmth spread its virility, Eira was a glorious sight—for four months, and then it quickly transformed back to its usual snowy landscapes and frigid temperatures.
Whether he did it to keep me safe or to terrify his young niece, my uncle would often tell me stories of tortured souls and demonic spirits that roamed Varian. Even later, our warriors would spin tales of butchered travelers found lifeless along the road and disappearing children that played too close to the borders.
Aside from the halted wars, it was what kept most from traveling through Varian Forest into our neighbor’s land. Those that did, stuck to the few well-known and well-marked trails that crossed from one side to the next. It was better to travel in packs. Large convoys of heavily armored warriors went two-by-two, constantly on the lookout. Single travelers purchased the best and fastest horses to make the trek in record time.
I had none of these options when I fled my uncle and had escaped death, but deep-down I wondered what foul creature had whispered my flight in the wilderness that led to…
Light infused my vision as a belated pain exploded in my jaw. I stumbled back, barely keeping my feet before I realized what was happening. A shadowed yet familiar form stalked toward me.
I hissed, wiping the blood from my bottom lip. “Lucan.”
“That felt good.” My uncle’s spy clenched and unclenched his hand. A satisfied smile lit one corner of his mouth. He pushed back his blond locks. “I knew you’d be by here sometime soon. You’re so predictable.”
“Predictable?” The words hurt my jaw. I crouched low. I had fought him before in training, and had lost. The memory of it quickened my heart to a painful cadence.
A line of three men stretched out to his left and right, blocking my way. Another snap sounded, and three more drew from behind. I twisted, eyeing their enclosing ranks. Their leathers and black hoods masked their faces, but one stood out among the others in a gray dress. The man from the pub smirked.
Trapped.
Demon Daughter
My heart picked up speed, but I reserved my full attention to the deadliest man of the group.
Lucan shrugged, rolling his shoulders. “I didn’t expect you to make me wait three months inside some prison, but oh well.” He lunged and swung.
I barely dodged the wild haymaker.
He smirked. “I think it’s time for you to come home with me.”
“I don’t think so.” I pulled the dull butter knife from my pocket.
He laughed, as did most of the others, then ignored my weapon completely. “Come, Ilianna. Your uncle misses you.”
My brow raised. “You know that’s not true.”
“That’s where your wrong, Princess.”
He unsheathed his knife. The sound grated against my tightened nerves. I couldn’t win against Lucan and six other armed men, not in my current state. My eyes frantically searched for an escape.
One of the cloaked men looked toward Lucan, his black eyes concerned. “I thought you said she was the princess. Why do you draw your knife on her? Why do you strike her?”
“She’s not as innocent as she seems, gentlemen.” Lucan smiled, his gaze never leaving mine. “My king doesn’t hold back from putting his servants in their place, and that is all she is. A servant to the crown that needs to be humbled.”
“Whatever you need to do, do it quickly. We won’t survive this cursed forest for long,” one man said, nervously shifting from one foot to the other.
“You paid me to retrieve a runaway princess, but this is wrong,” Black Eyes said, stepping away with raised hands.
“It’s brilliant.” My friend in the dress stepped forward, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I say we have a little fun with her.”
I flinched, clutching my knife tighter, unsure of the implied meaning I knew I was missing.
“She is not to be soiled,” Lucan growled.
“What better way to humble her? Besides, I’ve always wanted to sample royalty.” He hiked up the hem of his dress to his knees.
Several men sneered, but the one with the black eyes caught him by the sleeve.
“You heard him,” Black Eyes said, his voice hard.
The man from the tavern pushed away his roughened grip and stepped toward me. Faster than a whip, Lucan twisted, slamming his blade into his heart. Eyes wide, he gasped and folded to the ground.
Lucan tsked, using the fabric of the man’s gray skirt to clean his bloodied blade. “I said she is not to be soiled.” He kicked the man’s body. The others stepped away nervously, no longer concerned about me.
I bolted but didn’t get far before my legs were swept from beneath me. I tucked my head and rolled, quickly regaining my feet. Pain took my breath when someone grabbed me by my braid. They yanked me back into the wide expanse of their chest. Their arm snaked around my neck. I cringed when a mouth brushed my ear. “Gotcha.”
I rammed my elbow back, earning a feral grunt, then stamped my foot on my captor’s toes, loosening his grip. I broke away, but Lucan was there to meet me.
With a downward slash, his blade cut into my arm. A red line instantly drew from the inside of my elbow to my wrist. Unwittingly, I lurched into the hands of another waiting foe.
“That was a warning, Princess,” Lucan said, crouching low.
My jailor’s touch chafed upon the very fibers of my skin. Instinctively, I threw my head back. A satisfying crack and a cry told me I had hit my mark and the man stumbled. I twisted and sliced my blade across his middle, then plunged my knife into his heart.
The scene slowed to a crawl, forcing me to witness as Black Eyes lurched forward, stabbing into the gut of another that went for me. My mind reeled when he instantly turned, battling another of Lucan’s men.
Instincts kicked in and I moved to land a sidekick to Lucan’s stomach, but he was prepared. He grabbed my ankle and twisted hard. Pain racked up my leg and I fell, landing face down. I tasted blood from a split lip before hands seized my feet and yanked me back. My body flew over rock and brush that scratched at my face. I flipped over bucking wildly, freeing my legs.
Lucan’s boot found my stomach before I could do more. Then again. My breath locked in my chest and my body seized. He wrapped his fingers into my tangled hair, dragging me to my feet. He shook me, jarring my neck. I gasped for air, my breath returning.
Lucan shook me again. “Are you ready to come willingly?”
“Go to hell,” I said, my words mumbled through a swollen mouth.
He sneered. With a jerk, he head-butted me between my eyes. A crack sounded in my ears before I felt my body crumple like sand. I blinked against a numbing pain. Lucan drew back his boot to strike again—
His body flew, caught in some invisible snare that catapulted him into an unsuspecting tree. Magic pulsed through the air, standing the hairs at the back of my neck on end. Lucan slid to his feet just before the newcomer tackled him full-bodied to the ground. Both men rolled and leapt to their feet. Shock infused my already mottled brain when I recognized the newcomer.
Prince Castiel discarded his coat and drew two knives from sheathes strapped to well-built thighs. He glared, crouching low. His jaw muscles rippled. He circled Lucan, his movements smooth yet feral.