There’s nothing for me back home, not really.” The wolf’s forefinger tapped the railing. “Sometimes I just…overthink.”
What Emara loved about Breighly was that she appeared to never second-guess anything she did, but apparently, there were more layers to her front than Emara knew.
Emara pinned an untamed strand of hair behind her ear, wishing she had worn it in a braid. “I don’t want you to feel pressure to live up to the male guards of the trio. Breighly, I put you forward for the position of protecting my life because of who you are, not for you to prove yourself to anyone. I see who you are, I see the fearless stars that sparkle in your eyes when a challenge is put your way. I see the way that men look at you, not just because you are beautiful, but because they are intimidated by your strength and skill. Women like you are going to change the kingdom. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be soft, kind, and have emotions. Being my guard doesn’t mean you can’t have bad days or days you have a good cry. You don’t need to be strong all the time. You can just be you.”
A little colour made its way back to Breighly’s cheeks as she tried to bite back a smile.
“You are a warrior, regardless of your faction of birth. I don’t want you to be anything other than yourself. You are not a hunter, you are Breighly Baxgroll.”
“It takes a strong woman to understand that she can stand with other strong women and not be threatened.” Breighly straightened up from her sulk against the edge of the ship. “That’s what my father used to say anyway.”
“Murk said that?” Emara was surprised.
“You would be surprised if I told you all the beautiful things my father has said to me.”
She smiled. “You’re a strong, beautiful, fierce, loyal, and insanely witty wolf. Lean into that.”
Breighly finally gave her a smile that lit up her eyes, warming them from that cold stone to honey brown. “You forgot intelligent.”
Emara chuckled. “I want you in my trio because I trust you. When I was attacked at the Amethyst Palace, it was by hunters—the people who are supposed to be protecting me and my coven. I knew from the moment that I recovered that I needed something different. I didn’t want to see another hunter in my guardship. I wanted someone who looked at the world like I do. I needed a woman who could relate to me. I needed balance. You’re the perfect fit. But I understand that you’re adjusting to this world. Being around hunters is not easy. You must find it hard to not be free to run with your pack or shift. I understand what you have given up to be here. But I don’t always need you to guard me with a weapon, Bry. You are more than capable, in human form and in wolf form.” Emara reached over and took Breighly’s hand, sending a soothing current of magic into her. “And when you get in your head and tell yourself you are not good enough, you start to believe it. You are enough. Don’t let the darkness in, Breighly Baxgroll.”
Her voice was meek as she uttered, “I didn’t say I wasn’t good enough.” The wolf wiped away another tear.
“No, you didn’t. But I can see that glimmer in your eye that tells me that you are thinking it. I know what it feels like to question everything about yourself, question what your life’s purpose is, question if you are on the right path or if you are even in the right skin. But trust me when I say this”—Emara squeezed Breighly’s hand—“the moon and stars shine down on you brightly; they know how special you are. I can feel it. I know it.”
Breighly gave a thankful smile as she choked back her tears. “Don’t tell me you are claiming to be an Empress of House Spirit now too?”
She laughed. “I am getting stronger with spirit, and I can always see and feel things around me. I can even see them around you too. But I wouldn’t quite call myself an empress in the element.”
“Eli?” she whispered.
Emara nodded, trying to swallow a huge lump in her throat.
The wolf’s teary gaze found Emara’s face. “I have a feeling that I could be guarding the Supreme soon.”
Her airways slammed shut.
Supreme.
“I don’t think I will ever be powerful enough to be the Supreme.”
“We’ll see.” Breighly side-eyed her.
A soft wave of silence fell over them as they listened to the merging water slap against the ship’s wood. There was a stunning tranquillity about sailing, and for just a second, Emara pictured Cally laughing with Breighly about how society viewed the length of their dresses and their casual attitude to relationships. She imagined Cally bringing out a bottle of sparkling wine from her satchel of tricks and Breighly’s eyes lighting up.
They would have been some pair.
Abruptly, Breighly stood and gave a sharp exhale. She shook her head twice and squared her shoulders before looking over to the briefing that was still taking place. She combed her fingers through her beautiful blonde hair. “Please excuse me, Empress.”
“Where are you going?” Emara stood too.
“To disconnect a hunter’s dick from his body. He commented on my mood earlier in the foyer.” That wildly sunning look was back in her eye. “With the moon being full soon, it will only spiral from there. He’s in for a treat.”
Emara couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Welcome back, Guard Baxgroll.”
Crimson Dock was guarded by Fae officials, and Emara hadn’t realised how long it would take to get through their inspections. The Fae king didn’t own the land of Skyelir, just the dock, but he was commissioned by the prime to control who went in and out. Not just anyone could enter Skyelir without permission, and portals were banned.
Some people still portalled in, but it was treasonous to not declare yourself at the border. Torin stood at the top of the line as each hunter passed controls. A Fae guard stamped a large black sign next to their names on a scroll that was longer than Emara’s leg, granting access to be here on business. Torin had firelettered the king to fill him in on their mission.