“You can, Brea. Of that, you should never doubt.”
“I have to talk to Griff before I do anything stupid.” Like trust something Lochlan O’Shea said. “I have to know if Griff had any part in this.”
Chapter Thirteen
Brea stumbled through the palace, forcing her way past guards wearing her aunt’s colors. She sprinted down a spiral stone staircase, thankful not to have a dress tripping her up. The clothes Neeve procured for her gave her some sense of normalcy. Sure, they weren’t exactly the styles she’d have worn on the farm, but close enough.
Her breath rattled in her lungs as she kept running down the long hallway. Servants scurried out of her way as she rushed out the double doors that stood open to the long bridge crossing the river to the rest of the palace grounds. The waterfall crashed to her right, sending a spray of water into the air.
The forest closed in on her as she crossed the bridge, careful not to look over the sides into the depths below. The horse stables stood shrouded in vines at the far edge of the property with a paddock out front. Riders came and went while stable boys led horses from their stalls.
It looked nothing like Myles’ farm, but the smell—of horses and hay—allowed her to imagine she was back there where she’d felt safe. Any moment Captain America would walk into the paddock with her new colt by her side. She’d give Brea a look in that understanding way of hers that made her want to spill all her secrets.
Entering the bustle of the long stables, Brea inhaled deeply, her fingers twitching as if she could feel Myles’ hand in hers. A familiar head appeared, snorting when it saw her.
Maisie, the sweet horse she’d ridden from Griff’s house. The house she never should have left.
Everything she says is a lie.
That had to have been a message from Neeve, but then why would she deny it? And what did it mean? The kind and welcoming aunt she’d come to love was lying to her? About what?
That same aunt wanted to marry her to Griff to make him king. It was the reason she’d been brought from the human realm. Could she trust nothing that had happened since her arrival?
“Hey Maisie.” She reached the stall and unlatched it before slipping inside and shutting the door.
Fresh hay was spread over the ground. “Nice digs, Mais.” She approached the horse, running her hand along her smooth neck. “Looks like they’re taking good care of you.”
Just like her. That was the problem. She’d been well taken care of, having everything given to her on a silver platter—literally. But now she wondered if she was in a cage just like Maisie with no say in her future.
“What would Myles say about all of this?” she whispered, not sure if she was talking to the horse or herself. He’d probably tell her to do whatever it took to be free. That she didn’t owe these people anything just because they took her away from a bad situation in the human realm.
But still, she felt she owed them everything. Her love. Her loyalty. Her life?
Sliding down the wall, she sat in the hay and looked up at the beautiful beast, the only thing here that could possibly remind her of home. Tears built in her eyes and a wind whipped through the stall, pulled by the magic she now knew was tied to her emotions. Would it ever go away?
She didn’t want power.
The wind intensified.
She just wanted control of her own body again. Was that so much to ask?
Sniffling, she held in the tears.
“Brea?” Griff’s voice sounded far off as the magic buzzed in her ears. “Brea!”
Strong hands shook her, and she looked up into Griff’s worried face, a face she’d kissed only hours before. Now, she wanted him to leave her alone.
“Pull the magic back in!” he shouted.
It was only then she realized Maisie was cowered in the corner of the stall. Seeing fear in the horse, the string pulling her magic snapped and the wind died.
Brea slumped back against the wall.
Griff crouched in front of her, his arms resting on his knees. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“What do you want from me, Griff?” There was no strength to her voice, only resignation.
“Brea.” He scratched the back of his head. “I—”
“Need me? Yeah, I’ve been told.” She pushed away from the wall and got to her feet.
“Where are you going?”
“Away.” She shoved open the stall door and stomped from the barn, anger burning along her skin. But if she let this magic out, she feared she wouldn’t be able to pull it back in.
Griff ran after her. “Talk to me.”
She reached the bridge and turned on her heel to face him. “I don’t think you want to hear what I have to say!” She had to shout to be heard over the waterfall.
“What’s going on? This morning, we—”
“This morning was a lie. Everything is a lie. Me. You. My aunt.”
“Okay, slow down. What happened between when you left me this morning and now?”
So, he hadn’t spoken to her aunt. With a grunt, she turned and stomped across the bridge. She entered the palace, the noise from the falls dying down as she walked deeper inside. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have where they could be overheard.
By the time they reached her rooms, her anger had lessened, leaving her with the sinking feeling of being alone in a world that was not her own. She’d have given anything to have Myles with her.
Griff shut the door and approached her, his arms crossed over his chest. “Number six. When you get angry, your lip juts out stubbornly, and all I want to do is kiss the frown away.” He leaned in, but Brea sidestepped him.
“Do you really want to kiss me, Griff, or is that what you’re supposed to make me believe?”
“Why would you say something like that?”
She turned to the window, looking out on the realm she’d marveled at only a day before. Now, Fargelsi had lost its shine for her. She’d longed to belong here, but she wondered if she ever truly would.
Griff put a hand on her shoulder and she let him, having no more energy to push him away. She turned into his embrace, burying her face in his shirt. “Tell me the truth,” she whispered. “There’s no prophecy about me.”
“Brea—”
“Why did you really come to the human realm for me?”
When he didn’t respond, she lifted her eyes to his. “It was so you could become king, right? You needed someone with my aunt’s bloodline to make you a legitimate contender.”
He released her and stepped away. “You don’t understand.”
“I think I do.”
“Regan is my queen. She has been a mother to me. That throne is rightfully mine.”
“And what of me, Griff?”
“I lo—”
“Don’t say it!” Her hands vibrated in anger. “I swear to God, Griffin O’Shea. If you tell me you love me right now, I’m going to punch that pretty face of yours.”
“I never expected to feel this way about you.”
A harsh laugh pushed past her lips. “Oh, that’s rich. You don’t get to be this guy. The one who says everything he did was for my own good.”