Careful, a whispering voice seemed to croon. Careful now.
He tossed his sword to his other hand, eyes never leaving me. “Where’s your weapon?”
“I’ll have you know—”
He raised a brow.
I bristled, loathing to admit, “I… I don’t carry one.”
Thick golden brows furrowed. “You truly wish for me to believe you’d leave the safety of your nest to tempt the shadows beyond without being prepared?”
I swallowed, unable to look at him, and shifted on my bare feet.
He drank me in then. I could feel it, his cool gaze chilling my blood as he no doubt studied my soiled gown and feet, and pieced the puzzle together. “You fled in a rush.”
“I did.”
“Fool,” he spat as though I were a child in need of scolding.
I had no idea who this mongrel was, but he’d lingered long enough for me to detect and confirm the scent of a wolf. I was about to call him as such when he threw his sword at me. “But you do know how to fight, don’t you, sunshine?”
I caught it, the leather pommel warm from his touch. “Of course, I do.”
He unsheathed his other sword, this one shorter. His gaze cooled a fraction, lips lifting once more. “For your miserable life?”
“You’re disgustingly rude.”
“But am I wrong?”
I scowled. “My life is not…” I stopped and drew in a lungful of breath, not wanting to go there. My life was anything but miserable, but I wasn’t about to admit to him that it wasn’t anywhere close to what I’d hoped it would one day be. That would be selfish given the many people, villages, and towns we’d lost. Though I hadn’t created a dream firm enough to seek even before the attacks had begun, I had hoped for something. Something more. “Yes.”
His sword twirled in the air before he caught it with a flourish that ended with his booted feet braced apart. “Show me.”
“I do not need to show you anything—” Air sliced from my throat as his blade lunged for my hand, and I dived out of the way, tripping over the long skirt of my nightgown. Wincing, I blinked up at the dirt, rock, and tree-root-packed ceiling of the cave. “I’ll have your head—argh,” I screamed and rolled, strands of my long golden hair embedded in the dirt beneath the stranger’s sword.
Breathing hard, I gaped at its owner, who glared down at me with his arms crossed. “I see. You wish to die.”
“I do not,” I spat, hurrying to my feet.
Stepping forward, he drew uncomfortably close, close enough for me to see tiny flecks of black within his deep blue eyes and the vast length of his golden lashes that framed them. “They will have their way with you. Mark my words, Princess, and then you will be discarded.” Every word was pushed from between perfect white teeth, the canines on either side sharper than any I’d seen before, and my neck cricked back farther as he loomed over me. “Treaty or no, the human kingdom tolerates our lot at best, and would rather see you burn than married to their precious bratty prince.”
Lifting the hacked strands of my hair, he watched them regrow in his palm, but I didn’t remove my eyes from him. From the rigid, harsh cut of his square jaw peppered with days’ old stubble. His nose, strong and straight, twitched as his nostrils flared and he stepped back.
As if I could finally breathe again, I swallowed gulping lungfuls of damp, earthen air.
I’d never been that close to a blood Fae before—I’d never even spent time in the same proximity as one. The closest I’d come was hearing their bellowing howls and cries from our dungeon if they’d been captured spying or sneaking too close to the castle.
Even before the attacks had begun, there had been nothing but silence since the first war. Nothing but a deep, brewing tension for years and years as the two lands became separated by more than growing water.
And so I’d never known, hadn’t even heard that being as close as this stranger and I had just been, could extinguish breath and rational thought.
“He’ll take you,” he murmured now. “Of that, I am sure, but for what purpose? He’ll never mate with you, never be allowed to keep you, so”—he turned—“I guess we wait and see.”
Flustered and shaken, I ignored the warning lurking beneath his last words. “I need to go,” I said, trembling as I spied the sword I’d dropped. “They’ll soon come looking for me.”
“Do you always do as you’re told?” A caressing taunt but he didn’t stop at one. “Do you always coast along the waves of this rotten life, hoping for better instead of taking action?”
Rage unfurled from somewhere deep inside me, unexpected but not alarming enough to halt my tongue. “Stop it. You have no idea what you’re even saying.”
“Oh, but I do,” he said, brushing his thumb beneath his plump lower lip. “And I fight with everything I am, everything I am not, for all that I am.” His gaze grew lupine, both bright and dark, as it slid over me. “Are you a tool or a weapon, sunshine?” My mouth dried, and he barked, “Become a weapon no one can wield. Pick up the sword.”
Tears welled but not from fear. No, they came from someplace I’d rather not visit, but thankfully, I did not have to. I allowed it enough freedom to bend down and rip at my nightgown, the material now sitting just above my knees as I rose with the sword.
The crimson guard didn’t look at my legs. He didn’t take his attention from my face as I braced my feet apart, inhaled deeply through my nose, and nodded.
I danced around his first strike, and when he turned, our swords met with a resounding clash, my shoulder barking from his strength.
Sweeping back, I advanced when he did and ducked beneath his arm. He laughed and then struck with so much force, I had to jump, and our blades met in the air, the downswing of mine saving my hand.
“Better,” he said, standing back.
I swiped sweat from my brow, knowing he’d been holding back—not knowing why but appreciating it all the same.
In circles and leaps, we parried, blood trickling from my arm and leg. The cuts weren’t deep, I could tell, but they were enough to fuel the fire this stranger had stoked to life.
And with noises leaving me that I hadn’t known myself capable of, I lunged over and over.
He met me blow for blow, and I knew I would never best him, but I didn’t care. It wasn’t about that, and I refused to let it stop me from trying and failing and trying again.
“The moon leaves,” he said when we separated once more, his face free of perspiration while mine dripped. “And so must you.”
In clumps and heaves, my breath left me, lifting and lowering my chest, and finally, the crimson dared a glimpse at my body. His lips slackened, and he seemed to shake himself free of whatever thoughts had taken his mind.
He turned and headed back inside the hollowed tree.
“Your sword,” I called out.
“Keep it,” he returned without looking back. “We will meet again.” And then he was nothing but shadow eaten by darkness.
I was halfway home, the sun smearing the dark mountains beyond the castle in the distance, when I realized I hadn’t gotten his name.
“Opal,” my mother called up the stairs of my tower the following morning. “Stars above, what is wrong with you?” she asked, opening the door to my chambers. “It’s almost noon.”