Page 54 of The Curse of Ophelia

He was silent for a minute, watching the linen with which I had covered his wound. A breeze stirred around us, carrying the scent of spiced citrus mixed with the flowers and trees.

Tolek’s voice was distant when he said, “She will find someone whom she loves. Someone who drives her existence, makes her fiercer and gentler at once. Who will match her spirit and truly see her heart. Who brightens life and makes it worth living.”

“You sound as if you know the feeling.” My mind fluttered to my North Star.

Tol’s face twisted, but before he could respond, a scream cut through the air.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Rina,” I breathed.

I was on my feet, spear and sword in hand before her name had left my lips. I turned to Tolek, mind battling between dragging him to his feet and running.

“Go,” he instructed.

“Thank you,” I whispered, tearing through the trees in the direction of Santorina’s scream. My heart pounded in time with my soundless footsteps.

White cypher trunks and thick green leaves flew past me, wild creatures jumping along beside me, following the source of my pursuit. I willed one of them—any of them that were untainted—to reach her before me. A friendly beast to tackle whatever predator had found Rina.

I hurdled over roots and ducked beneath low-hanging branches with innate swiftness. Senses perked, warrior blood heightening, following her human scent and another unfamiliar one in a straight shot from the river.

I burst into a clearing rimmed with bushes bearing wild berries. In the center stood Rina, a hulking figure behind her and a small silver blade pressed into the sensitive flesh of her throat.

Her pupils swelled, locking on me as she inhaled, a mix of relief and distress. Hands locked on her attacker’s wrist, muscles straining to keep that dagger from pressing in deeper. Though she held a mask of bravery against this man, her lips trembled minutely. The woman who’d held a dagger against Engrossians days before was shadowed. She blinked furiously at me, afraid to make the slightest move, but I read that flurry: Help.

I mimicked her collected mask as I surveyed our opponent. A head taller than Rina, the enemy’s shoulders and chest were broad enough to engulf her. Strong arms wrapped around her waist and neck. But it was his shirt that caught my attention—the style was formal, different than any in Gallantia with its shiny brass buttons, high collar, and thick fabric.

“You’re not from here,” I accused. Starfire was in front of me, sunlight reflecting off her pristine blade and into the face of our enemy, illuminating his sharp nose, wide eyes, and cut jaw.

His lips curled back, in a smile or a grimace I couldn’t be sure. “You’re correct,” he muttered in a gruff voice. It wasn’t malicious or harsh, but a tremor of unease ran through it.

“What do you want?” I kept my voice steady, though heated.

He tilted his head, the movement swaying his shoulder-length brown hair around his face, ears poking out. And Starfire nearly fell from my grasp. Pointed ears. I looked closer at his menacing half smile and saw the elongated canines.

Fae.

When he saw the shocked recognition on my face, he truly smiled, putting those gloriously sharp teeth on display.

“You’re a faerie,” I breathed.

My brain whirled, trying to remember every bit of history that had divided Ambrisk’s three largest land masses between the three dominant magical groups: fae to the west, sorcia in the Northern Isles, and warriors to the east. We were given the responsibility of protecting the magic-fueled land of the Mystique Mountain Range for the good of all magical creatures, including the faeries of the western continent, Vercuella. The sorceresses, something different altogether, removed themselves from the conflicts of warrior and fae historically.

Faeries could not cross the sea into Gallantia, for they had a brutal history tainted crimson with bloodshed—particularly human bloodshed. My heartrate spiked as I remembered the reason a treaty was finally signed two thousand years ago, sealing this agreement. Ending the slaughter of innocent humans by the fae and allowing the escape of refugees to our continent.

Regardless of that, we all thrived off of the same magic—argued over ownership of it.

The faerie smiled, his teeth impossibly white, but his grip on Rina neither slackened nor tightened. “Correct again.”

“You’re not to be on our continent, nor to harm our people,” I growled. “Release her.”

I sensed movement through the brush behind me and prayed to the Spirits it was my friends coming to our aid. I needed to hold out until they arrived. While I could handle this brooding faerie on my own, the additional weapons and muscle couldn’t hurt.

“You don’t know what you’re saying. She is no warrior.” In a movement that was almost intimate, he inhaled the air around Santorina’s temple. “She is something else; we have no deal with her kind.”

“She is an ally of my people. She is with us.”

My words hit him like a bolt of lightning. His muscles flinched as he understood that Rina was protected under our rule, and he was bound to the treaty.

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