Kenna
I wake up in the morning to hazy sunlight blaring through my windows. I blink, reaching up to rub my eyes but then pause and look over at the other side of the bed.
Evander slept here last night, but he’s no longer here, and his side of the bed is cold and empty.
He’s leaving today. Soon, I assume, given the fact I overslept, and it’s probably close to 9:00 AM. I roll over onto my side, lifting up on an elbow to peer over the edge of the bassinet beside my bed.
Brie is snoozing with a peaceful expression on her perfect face.
A soft creak alerts me to someone entering the room, and thinking it’s Evander, I sit up a little straighter, but it’s only Avery.
“Hey,” I whisper, pushing the sheets down to free my legs as I swing them out of bed. “I didn’t expect to see you until later.”
“It’s a quiet morning down in your makeshift infirmary,” she says with a soft smirk. She edges toward the bassinet and peeks inside, her smile growing. “Are they supposed to sleep this much?”
“Yes. It’s really all newborns do,” I yawn, stretching my arms over my head. “But she was up several times last night. Evander took a few trips down to the mother acting as a wet nurse with her to help settle her.”
Avery sits on the edge of the bed in her healer uniform, her starched apron a pearly shade of white.
Avery is my oldest friend, other than Evander. I met her in kindergarten, and we grew up together, but our training went in totally different directions. She’s a surgical healer, a highly specialized trade that uses an even more specialized kind of magic, and she knows very little about babies.
She smooths a rogue lock of red hair away from her face and watches me as I flutter around the room, pulling out fresh clothes and an apron from my closet to get ready for another day of healing downstairs.
“How come you never told me about Evander?”
I pause, my fingers brushing over the fabric of my apron. “I should have. I’m sorry.”
Avery exhales, shrugging as I turn to face her with my uniform in hand. “I wish you had, only so I could have been there for you.”
“I’m fine, really. I was fine before.” I’m not sure why I never told her, or any of my friends, about my real feelings for him. I guess it kept me safe–locked away in my own delusion.
But everything is different now.
“Well, everyone’s heard about what happened between your father and Evander at this point.” She huffs, eyeing Brie as the baby starts to stir. “I was just down in the kitchen. Everyone’s talking about how your dad tried to send Evander away.”
“He didn’t just try,” I counter, shrugging out of my pajamas and pulling a pair of panties and deep blue slacks up to my waist. Avery’s seen me naked a time or two, so I don’t bother with modesty. “He is sending him away, today. Right now, I’m sure. I need to find them both.”
Avery gives me an odd look as I put on a bra and pull a matching shirt over my head and begin to tie my apron strings. She gingerly picks a squirming Brie out of the bassinet and settles her against her shoulder. “No, he’s not! Like I said, I was just in the kitchen. They’re preparing the biggest breakfast I’ve ever seen in my life! Enough to feed everyone housed in the castle right now and the Ghosts who just arrived in town this morning with your mom.”
My heart falls into my stomach. “My mom is here?”
She nods, her mouth popping open to say something I’m sure is along the lines of, “You didn’t know?” But I’m already taking Brie from her arms and racing toward the door.
“Where are they right now?” I ask, my heart thundering against my ribs as my breath catches.
“I have no idea!” she exclaims, but I’m already cutting through my living area and yanking open the massive double doors leading out into the corridor and the depths of the castle. Why did no one tell me? Why wasn’t I woken up the second she arrived?
I jerk to a stop as Evander appears holding a tray of breakfast. He looks remarkably relaxed for someone about to get banished to another kingdom and separated from his mate under the guise of a mission.
“What are you…? Where is…? What’s going on?” I trip over my words, my mind going a hundred miles per hour. Evander looks over the top of my head as Avery comes out of the room behind me, mumbling something about taking Brie downstairs for her own breakfast as she takes her out of my arms and hastily walks out of sight.
“Good morning,” Evander says slowly, skeptically, as he steps up to me.
I blink a few times, wondering if I’m dreaming. “I thought you and Sydney were leaving this morning? Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Kenna, your mom is here, and she’s safe. I found out early this morning when I was bringing Brie back upstairs and didn’t want to wake you after the night we had with her,” he says, giving me a knowing smile. “The Ghosts found her after she alerted your dad to her whereabouts.”
“Then the Draven Coven has been found?”
He shakes his head. “They were let go. That’s all I know. She’s resting, and I haven’t been briefed on whether plans are changing, but for now, I’m staying here.”
I throw my arms around his waist. He carefully holds the tray above my head. “When can I see her?”
“I’m sure they’ll find you soon enough.”
A guard hurries down the hallway in our direction. We turn as the young man skids to a stop, his shoes screeching on the tiles. “Princess Kenna,” he says with a short bow, “General Evander–”
“What is it?” Evander asks, dropping his voice into his usual icy, all-business tone.
“I didn’t know who else to go to. Alpha King Ryatt and Beta Granger have been in his office with the Queen and Lady Amanda since the arrived–”
“What is it?” Evander repeats through gritted teeth.
I peer at the guard, who looks between us, his shoulders rigid. “We have a few Draven prisoners on the other side of town, as you know. One of them is willing to talk, but only to her.” He points at me and all the fine, downy hair on my body stands on end as I slowly look up at my mate.
“Why?” Evander asks.
* * *
It’s going to be a hot one today. I can already feel the heat oozing off the pale stone pavers lining the winding streets of Moonrise as Evander holds a door open for me, which leads into the dark recesses of what’s been used as an office building pertaining to royal affairs. Generals, commanders, and lawyers use this space. Tight offices crowd a narrow, unlit hallway as we follow the guard down the hall and up a flight of stairs.
More guards appear, leaning against door frames and chatting in small groups over cups of coffee. Some of them give me a passing glance, but most of their attention is on Evander.
I haven’t seen him at work. Not really. I’ve never given stock to his professional reputation. All I know are the rumors and tall tales of my mate during his time in the field.
Seeing the shock, awe, and respect on the faces of the guards does something to my heart that's hard to put into words.
On one hand, I’m proud to be walking beside this man. This man who instills fear in his enemies and has the respect of his men. But on the other hand, I remember the scars on his back, and how empty and dark his eyes were before he finally let himself love me, and wonder if years of training, killing, and commanding has done irreversible damage to the man I love–the boy I once knew.
Evander gives a silent commander to a trio of guards standing in front of one door. They move out of the way, and he goes inside.
I follow him into the dark and shield my eyes as a bright, fluorescent kind of light flutters on.
A man sits in silver shackles on a metal chair. His shaved head is bowed to his lap, and his fingers are bruised and bloodied.
The room smells sharply of blood, in fact. I wonder if it’s his. I wonder, briefly, if they’ve been torturing information out of him.
He raises his head, and my assumptions are confirmed.
He’s beaten to a pulp–one of his eyes swollen shut and his lips violently split–but I sense no magic on this man. He’s a shifter. A wolf. I can smell the difference.
He tries to whistle at me as I edge to a stop, but his blooded mouth only sputters. Evander scowls, reaching out an arm to stop my progress. “What do you want, wolf?”
“I heard a rumor,” he whispers dryly, his beady black eyes darting between me and Evander, “that one of our own is in your castle, Princess.”
“Any surviving Draven rebels have been imprisoned here,” I say with so much firmness in my tone that I sound almost identical to my mom. It takes me off guard, but I quickly right my expression.
“You’re mistaken,” he rasps, revealing broken teeth as he smiles.
“Who?” Evander snarls.
“One of our own women,” the man spits, disgust flaring to life in his eyes. “She’s pregnant.”
My stomach hollows out. I place a hand to Evander’s lower back to steady myself.
“I didn’t realize the coven enlisted female warriors,” Evander drawls.
“Of course not. The women are for our own enjoyment, to keep up morale. Gabriel is a generous king.” His broken smile makes me sick to my stomach.
“There’s no such woman here,” Evander says. I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing I am as I start to knit my fingers together.
There wasa pregnant woman who wasn’t part of the coven. No one knew her, or her home pack, or her family.
Brie’s mother.
“She belongs to the Draven Coven. Gabriel will soon find out one of his women is unaccounted for. The baby she will bear is a girl child, which is sacred. He’ll come for her.”
“Gabriel is the least of your worries right now,” Evander sneers. “I was told you were willing to talk; so talk. What is Gabriel planning?”
The man smiles at Evander then shifts his eyes to me. “You think you’re so safe in your gilded cities, don’t you, Princess? Gabriel broke through your father’s wards like butter. But what he wants–what he was looking for–isn’t here, and your powers, Princess, are not the kind he wants to possess as his own. Although… a daughter from your womb is something he’d like in the future.”
I feel Evander’s rage ghost through our bond, but I step out from behind him. “He’s looking for his sister, isn’t he? She’s not here.”
“He knows that, but the battle in Moonrise provided the perfect distraction for the moves he’s making in Crescent Falls, didn’t it? Pity your own mother decided to surrender instead of fight.”
“Tell us where he is,” I command.
“I will tell you where his hideout is if you tell me where the woman is,” he snarls.
“Like he said, there is no pregnant woman who isn’t part of our coven here,” I snap. “If you can’t give me Gabriel’s location, you’re of no use to me or my family.”
“Your mother’s location, then, as a token of goodwill–”
I crouch, eye to eye with the man. “You’re too late for bargaining chips. My mother is here. Someone in your ranks let her go, and she’s currently debriefing my father, the king, on what happened to her. You will die shortly, I assume, unless you’re of some use to us. So, I’ll ask you again, where is Gabriel?”
His nostrils flare like he’s trying to pick up a scent on me.
Evander catches this and puts a hand on shoulder in a command to rise and back away, and I do.
The man narrows his eyes, a crooked smile tugging at the corners of his bloodied mouth. “You smell like milk and a baby.”
“I’m a midwife,” I rasp, but the nerves in my tone are clear enough.
His smile grows. “Lucky for the Draven woman, I guess.”
I turn from him before my concern can blossom across my face and hurry from the room. I close my eyes as I cross the threshold, and an echoing snap cuts through the air–the sound of flesh on flesh. I can almost feel the burn of the slap Evander laid across the prisoners face on my own skin as I walk blindly down the hall and down the stairs, holding my breath until I finally reach the blaring sunlight.
Evander is behind me in a few seconds but doesn’t stop me. He silently follows me through the streets–past the freshly reopened store fronts and families throwing open their shutters as they clean the battle debris from their townhomes.
He doesn’t say a word until we’re at the steps leading up to the castle.
“Kenna, he could be talking about anyone.”
“You know he’s not. You know he’s talking about Brie’s mother–”
“You are Brie’s mother now,” he cuts in, grasping my shoulders and whirling me to face him. “She is ours. You heard him–her mother was nothing but a slave. Her coming here, seeking the help of our healers, was her final gift to that child.”
“What if they take her?” I whisper, fear clouding every sense.
He drags me against his chest. “I won’t allow it.”
Groups of people walk up and down the stairs, the city having returned to its usual bustle.
We have no privacy here, and this conversation can’t continue in the open.
“Have you been summoned by your parents yet?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Come on,” he says, knitting his fingers in mine.