Sighing, Layla hurried to catch up to Max. Wordlessly, he caught her hand and tugged her towards a house nestled into the sea grass and sand banks. It was small with quaint little windows overlooking the water.
He pressed his hand against a biometric reader and waited as a small robot dropped from the porch ceiling. It scanned his eye and snuck a needle in his thumb before snapping back into the ceiling.
A moment later a mechanical voice said, “Welcome, Maximus Beauregard. Identity confirmed.” The scraping sound of a bolt sliding out of place followed.
“Come on,” Max said as he pushed the door open.
Layla followed him into a room she had not been expecting from the rustic beach house exterior. The furnishings were sleek and modern. Neutral shades of cream, blue, and grey created a calming atmosphere. Although all the windows were closed, she could still smell the freshness of the salt and the sea.
“What is this place?” she asked.
“An elvish safehouse. My aunt lets me use it when I’m on a mission.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “What sort of missions?” she prodded.
He twisted one of his braids between two fingers as he stared at her in silence. The room seemed to shrink the longer the silence stretched between them. She tapped her fingers anxiously on her leg as she waited for him to respond.
“I am a member of the Elvish Liberation Front,” he finally said.
Layla stared at him in disbelief. Her breathing came in short, shallow bursts. The Elvish Liberation Front was a group of self-proclaimed ‘freedom fighters’ who sought to undermine King Renard. They’d caused riots across the kingdom on various occasions. No one thought they had any type of power. They were usually just associated with poor planning. A joke among the people.
“What do you want with me?” she asked.
“We think you really are the lost princess,” he said, taking a step towards her. “In fact, we are almost positive that you are.” He took her hands in his. His touch sent a current of electricity coursing through her. She jolted, pulling her hands out of his grasp and taking a small step away. His eyes lingered on her lips as he said, “Do you have any idea what it would mean to us if you were the fae princess?”
She shook her head. She didn’t know what to say to him. Not once, in her entire life, had she dreamed about being a princess or a queen. Sure, she knew plenty of girls who had dreamed of such a thing. Her best childhood friend had gone on and on for ages about the lost fae princess. But that hadn’t been Layla’s story. She was the one who’d stayed up late reading books when she was young. As she grew older, she’d become even less interested in royalty and, out of necessity, more engaged with survival.
She didn’t want this.
And she certainly didn’t want all her carefully laid plans to go to waste. The anger and frustration and fear from the last two days brewed within her, boiling to an eruption point. She stepped forward and jabbed her finger into his chest.
“You wanna know what being the lost princess means? I’ll tell you. It means that my entire life is ruined. It means that I will constantly have to fear for my life. That I will have to put up with being passed from one political movement to the next, all in a mad grab for power. I don’t want it!”
His cheeks paled as she spoke. His hands hovered over her shoulders as if he wanted to touch her but was afraid of causing another visceral reaction.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t…” he paused. Wetting his lips, he continued, “I didn’t know this wasn’t something you wanted.”
He turned away from her, his shoulders sagging.
All the anger that had boiled within her subsided as quickly as it had come. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she crossed her arms over her chest and let them fall to the floor unbridled. She gasped for breath.
He spun around, his body quivering, as he held her gaze. His eyes were full of kindness as he wrapped his arms around her. For a second, she melted into his embrace. She breathed in his scent. He reminded her of campfires and autumn leaves. His arms tightened around her as she let herself meld into him. She could get used to this.
She closed her eyes and visions of the past two days came flooding back into her. The man being shot. The fear she’d felt when Bear’s life had been in danger. The battle in the apartment. Kaden’s face.
Everything.
Her back tensed and she gently extracted herself from his embrace. Her jaw clinched as he gripped her arms and stared down at her. Even now, his hands sent warmth spreading through her.
He gazed down at her with hooded eyes, a small frown on his lips. “I am sorry for everything you’ve been through.”
She pulled her arms out of his grip and instantly felt the kiss of cold air on her bare skin. She shivered, though it had nothing to do with the cold. She wanted him to continue holding her. She wanted to meld into him and let her worries disappear. But, she couldn’t. She didn’t know him, and she couldn’t trust him.
“You didn’t cause any of this to happen, so there’s no reason to be sorry,” she said. Her tone was clipped and hard. She flicked her thumb as she stared at him, willing herself to return to her normal badassery.
“True, but I can still be sorry for those things, can I not?” he asked.
There was something about the tenor of his voice that made her want to trust him. She didn’t. How could she when everyone around her seemed to lie? But there was a part of her that wanted to.
He took her hand and squeezed it. “I know you have no reason to trust me.”
She blinked at him, wondering if he could read her mind. “I don’t; you’re right,” she said.
He nodded, his jaw setting into a hard line. Too late, she realized that he had been hoping she would refute that statement. Although there was a part of her that wanted to, she couldn’t.
“But that doesn’t mean that I couldn’t learn to,” she said quickly. She finally returned the hand squeeze, but he only stared at her blankly. She chewed on her bottom lip as she contemplated what to say to make things better between them. She couldn’t explain why she felt drawn to him, but she was. She chalked it up to having been abducted twice in one night. She’d read about how victims sometimes fell in love with their captors. The thought made her squirm. This was not the time to fall in love.
Sighing, she walked over to one of the couches and sank down onto it. Layla pulled a small blanket over her shoulders and closed her eyes. All the exhaustion from the day overwhelmed her. She felt the couch shift as Max sat down next to her. He placed a warm hand on her shoulder, grounding her to the reality of where she was and what had happened.
“Before you sleep,” he whispered, shaking her lightly, “there is something else we have to discuss.”
Her body groaned as she opened her eyes and turned towards him.
“Do you know anything about your PEA?” he asked.
“My PEA?” she stammered. “Why are you asking about my PEA?” She was careful not to use Penny’s name. She’d learned long ago that most people didn’t name their PEAs. Unlike other people’s personal electronic assistants, Penny was sentient. She had her own thoughts and she interjected her personality into their conversations. She didn’t seem to have a service program like the others did, though she was concerned for Layla’s safety.