Page 58 of Slaying the Shadow Prince
‘I won’t be long,’ she told him, and rushed off, craving the much-needed solitude to unpack everything that had come to pass since Talemir Starling had stepped foot into her kingdom.
Drue had been to this village before with Adrienne, so she knew there was freshwater close to the town square. She headed there in a daze, with Terrence flying low in front of her. Oddly, the hawk had kept his distance since his injury, but he seemed very much recovered.
Thankfully, the brook still flowed generously and Drue stripped off her outer layers when she reached its banks. Bathing in the hot springs felt like a lifetime ago now and she was sorely in need of a clean set of clothes and a decent wash.
The water was icy, but she braved it anyway, wading up to her knees in her undergarments. There, as she scrubbed away the grime of her journey, she tried to piece together what she felt for the Warsword, attempting to separate that from the memory of his hands on her body, his mouth on hers.
And then those great wings spearing from his muscular back.
How had things got so tangled between them? When she had met him, when her cuff had warmed against her skin and exposed what he truly was, all she had wanted was to carve out his black heart.
But now…
‘It led me to you,’ he had said, his rich-timbred voice full of sincerity.
Drue splashed water on her face, trying to find the voice of reason that usually sounded in her mind during times of peril. She had survived this long in a fallen kingdom full of shadow wraiths because of it… But it was silent now. The only thing she could hear was the thundering of her own heart at the thought of Talemir Starling —
A branch snapped.
And Drue paused before she turned around, gathering her courage to face the Warsword who had undone her so thoroughly.
‘I think I was hoping you would join me…’ she murmured.
But somewhere nearby, Terrence shrieked in warning.
Drue whirled on her heels to find a stranger leering at her, brandishing a rusted sword. ‘Is that so, princess?’ he taunted, taking a step towards her.
Drue’s heart seized. She’d left her weapons on the stream bank.
Terrence made a nosedive for the man, who flung his blade at the hawk in a panic.
‘Terrence, no!’ Drue called. She couldn’t bear the thought of her feathered friend getting injured again. Surprisingly, the bird obeyed, beating his wings furiously and flying off towards the town.
‘Where were we, princess?’ the prick jeered, advancing as his eyes roamed over her exposed skin and undergarments. ‘I think you were asking me to join you…’
Drue’s lip curled, and she clenched her fists, readying to fight as she scanned her surroundings for anything she could use against him —
There!
Long fronds of pond weed grew at the stream’s edge. And that was more than weapon enough for her. Without a moment’s hesitation, she lunged for it.
The man laughed as water sprayed.
But by the time the sound had left his lips, Drue had two pieces like ropes in her hands.
She used the first to disarm him, wrapping it in a blur around his sword arm and pulling the sorry excuse for a blade from his unsuspecting grasp.
‘Bitch!’ he shouted as the grass also lacerated his skin.
But Drue was already moving, the stream surging about her legs as she closed the gap between her and her opponent.
He’d expected her to be a cowering damsel.
But she was no such thing.
She wrapped the pond weed around his throat.
Once. Twice. Thrice.
