Page 115 of Destined for the Fae King

The blow to my shield strikes like a punch to my chest. One moment, I’m upright; the next, the wind has been knocked from my lungs, and I crash to the ground, pain radiating along my head and back from the impact. Stars dance before my vision.

Lysandir cries my name. Someone else screams. Tharin lets out a bellow.

Then hands are on me, feeling for injuries. Lysandir says something, though I can’t quite make it out, but I feel his nearness, savor it. I blink, my vision returning. As it does, I see glimpses from where my cheek lays against the cool ground.

The Unseelie King deflects a blow from Tharin. Half the length of his sword is blackened. It makes an odd sound when struck. Katiya throws something at Tharin, and he backs away, coughing. The Unseelie King scoops Katiya into his arms and speeds away.

“Mira!” Lysandir cups my cheek in his palm and turns my head toward him. “Where are you hurt?”

Everywhere.Each breath is a harsh rasp, but they come. I can wiggle my fingers and toes. I’m going to be bruised like crazy, but I don’t think anything is broken, at least nothing major.

“I’m fine,” I manage to say. “He’s getting away.”

Lysandir looks back over his shoulder. Warriors from the Court of Fire have closed in around us, offering protection.

“Maybe for the best,” he mumbles.

He meets my gaze, and I read the things he doesn’t say. Because he might not have won. Even with my shields, the Unseelie King was a formidable opponent, one he was not prepared for.

Lysandir looks to the surrounding fae and shouts, “Medic!”

“I’m fine,” I protest again and attempt to sit. My breath comes easier now. “But you’re not.” Blood leaks down his arm.

A fae I don’t know drops to their knees beside us. They lay a hand on each of us before I can ask what’s happening. Magic shivers under my skin, and suddenly my aches and pains fade away. They drop their hand from me, but healing Lysandir takes longer.

I grab the spear where it fell on the ground beside me. It looks none the worse for wear, but the whispers of power I heard and felt from it before are quiet.

“Almost had her.” Tharin wipes at his face as he joins us. Whatever the Unseelie woman used worked to distract him but doesn’t seem to have had any lasting effect, thank goodness. “Should we pursue?”

“To the borders only. No farther,” Lysandir commands.

Immediately, Tharin begins barking orders at the others.

The sun has begun to rise, brightening the sky and casting a muted light over everything. Smoke rises from the fires caused by magic. Some of the fae rush to put them out, seeming to suck the flames away and extinguish the smoldering embers.

“You’re safe. You’re okay.” Lysandir says, maybe more to himself than to me.

“I am.” I lift the spear just a bit and try to push my awareness into it. It flares weakly but then sputters out. “But it’s quiet now. I… I didn’t break it, did I?” Oh gosh, if I destroyed the spear, what does that say about me?

“It’s fine.” Lysandir curls his hand around mine over the spear. “All magic must recharge. Mine. The spear. It likely just needs time.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

We’re an island of stillness in a sea of activity. I glance around but quickly avert my gaze as I spy a few unmoving figures in the distance. Instead, I focus on Lysandir. His bleed has stopped, and though he still breaths heavily, I know he’s okay.

“What happens now?” I ask.

“Let’s hope the Unseelie have fled for now.” His expression turns somber. “This night has seen too much death and bloodshed.”

My heart aches for him. I lunge forward, throwing my arms around his neck and hugging his armored form. “I’m so sorry.”

He trails his fingers through my hair and holds me close. I hear his breath catch, and I nestle a littler closer, offering whatever support I can. When my father passed, there weren’t any words that made it better. People feel the need to say them, I think, to offer support however they can. After all, didn’t I just do the same? But the thing that actually helped was closeness. Mom was too distraught, as were my brothers, but Selena held me close, an arm wrapped around me as I cried on her shoulder. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Just being there was everything. I can be that for Lysandir now. Someone to lean on when all the world feels like its crumbling and shifting.

We cling together like that for a while until Tharin comes back and drops to one knee beside us. He places a hand on Lysandir’s shoulder. “The Unseelie King and his host have fled past our borders. We’re sweeping the area now for any others.”

Lysandir’s cheeks are dry when he raises his head to look at his friend, but there’s a weariness in his eyes I’ve never seen before. Already, the crown sits heavily.

“Good. See it done.” He rises to his feet and pulls me with him. “I will take Mira to the capital. You’re in charge until I return.”

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