Chapter Twelve
“When will the last troops come over?” asked Aleksei.
Mikhail observed the archers from his stance behind them, arms crossed and mood foul. “In a fortnight, I imagine. Nikolai’s cousin Riker will lead them across the Cimmaron Sea and leave the families in the safety of Cutters Cove.”
Aleksei nodded, his own countenance grave as he glanced up at the mass of clouds growing heavy. “Is Riker healed enough to fight?”
“Nikolai says so.”
Mikhail heard Friedrich’s boys tromping through the woods before he saw them launch onto the training field. Nate, the wild one whose father forged weapons for the Black Lily, was with them, as usual. Caden thrust an arm out to stop them from running out like fools in front of the line of archers. He’d be a good leader one day.
“Those fucking Legionnaires at the Glass Tower did a number on him,” he continued. “They should’ve killed him when they had the chance. According to Nikolai, he’s full of fire and fury, ready for combat.”
Aleksei chuckled. Mikhail watched the boys as they stepped up to Dmitri, who was leading the morning training. One of the Black Lily’s human soldiers patted Caden on the back as he handed over a bow. The soldier then ambled toward the sparring pin where Gregoravich, Gavril, and Yuri were training on a variety of weapons. Gregoravich demonstrated one of his deadliest moves with an ax in one hand and a dagger in the other, thrusting animatedly in the air. He had a rapt audience. Mikhail had seen him perform that particular move so many times he’d lost count. Subdue the vampire enemy with an ax to the head, then slit his carotid before he could blink.
“Good job, Emmett, but your aim is a little low,” said Dmitri, drawing Mikhail’s gaze back to the line of archers.
Dmitri was coaching both Caden and Emmett on proper stance and aim when the breeze carried the mouth-watering scent of sunshine and jasmine down the line. His canines extended at once.
“Good morning, Dmitri,” said Brennalyn, Mina close at her side.
Beatrice and Helena walked nearby, watching Caden and Emmett. Izzy ran down the hill, following Nate, Jack, and Denny to the sparring pit, her blond ringlets bouncing.
The sight of Mina—tall and fair and blindingly beautiful—knocked the air from his lungs. It also overcast him in a shadow of regret. He’d fled to Hiddleston last night, seeking a willing blood whore to fuck and feed his lust away, then maybe he could get Mina out of his mind. He’d found a lovely barmaid at the Bull’s Eye who was more than eager to oblige him, right there in a back room of the tavern. As soon as he sank his fangs deep, she’d hiked up her skirt, moaning and grappling with the lacing of his trousers.
When he’d stopped her, Mikhail actually felt remorse for misleading the woman. She’d not asked for payment, but he dropped three sovereigns on the ale barrel anyway and left her in the dark. He’d heard her call him bastard the second before he tore away again into the night. He didn’t stop at the encampment but continued on into the forest, winding up in the shadows outside the little cottage where Mina slept.
She was a magnet, ever drawing him closer. He’d watched over her till dawn, at peace just knowing he was keeping her safe. But also in turmoil for wanting what he couldn’t have. Shouldn’t have. She was right. Dmitri was right. He could have her. If he revealed his family’s tragedy and rewrote the past. All he wanted now was to right the wrongs of the present. Losing himself in the beauty that was Mina was a mistake. A distracted captain was a perilous one.
Yet, here he was, completely enraptured at the first sight of the fair-haired goddess. She approached Dmitri.
“May I have a try?” she asked.
Emmett handed over the bow while Dmitri smiled in his charming way. “Of course. So, stand with your feet square facing in that direction.”
Mikhail refrained from growling when Dmitri placed a hand on her back to guide her.
“Like this?” she asked.
He couldn’t help himself, sidling closer as Dmitri gave her instructions.
“Yes. Now grip the bow and—”
“She needs an armguard first,” Mikhail interrupted, lifting one off the post where they kept the quivers, arrows, and guards. Dmitri smirked at Mikhail as he stepped aside to stand next to Brennalyn.
Ignoring his brother’s implicit accusation with a look, he stood in front of her and lifted her left arm. Without meeting her gaze, he wrapped the guard around her slender forearm and buckled the straps.
“Have you shot a bow before, Your Highness?”
He felt the weight of her gaze, but he remained focused on tightening the straps so it wouldn’t slip. He didn’t want her silken skin to be marred by the snap of a bow string.
“A little,” she whispered intimately.
Unable to deny himself any longer, he lifted his gaze to hers as he dropped her arm. Why he felt the need to torture himself, he wasn’t sure. She held him there with the most serene, gentle expression he’d ever beheld. Her calm exterior only agitated him more, especially when his own emotions were in turmoil with one glance.
He stepped behind her and squared her hips. “Keep your body facing this direction, like Dmitri said.”
“I see.”
“Since you’ve shot a bow before, you know to keep your elbow out and your inner arm flat, correct?” He raised her arm now gripping the bow, aiming it toward the target, a bale of hay with a canvas bull’s-eye.
“Like this?” Her elbow still angled toward the ground, jutting out her inner arm. And though she now wore the guard for protection, his blood rose at the thought of her injuring herself while playing at archery.
“No,” he practically growled and stepped close behind her.
She focused on the target. With his body aligned behind her, he mirrored her stance, gripping his hand over hers on the bow’s handle.
“Look at my arm. See how I’ve turned my arm where my inner arm is flat? That will keep you from getting hit with the string when you let loose. It also gives you more control of the aim.”
“Oh. I see.”
Her heart rate picked up speed. That was when he realized he had a death grip on her waist, keeping her body perfectly molded to his. What he wanted to do was to nuzzle his face into her hair and breathe deep of her essence. Instead, he stepped away and crossed his arms, facing toward the target.
“I think you’ve got it. Just notch an arrow, aim, and let loose.”
“Here you go,” said Dmitri, handing her an arrow from the quiver on the stand.
“Thank you.” She notched the arrow and pulled the string back, her bow tilted slightly upward.
“No,” Mikhail corrected gently. “You’re aiming too high.”
She didn’t reply but aimed a second longer before letting the arrow fly. It hissed through the air, arching upward toward the overhanging tree beside her lane, struck through a single leaf dangling from its branch, then sailed onward in the perfect curve, hitting the target dead center of the bull’s-eye.
Brennalyn laughed behind them. But his eyes were on Mina as she glanced over her shoulder. “Like that?”
So, the princess could be deceptive after all. That was a new discovery.
“You weren’t exaggerating,” said Brennalyn, a bemused expression lighting her face.
He arched an accusing brow at her. “You’ve practiced more than a little archery.”
She placed the bow back in its wooden stand and unbuckled the armguard with quick, deft fingers, like someone who’d done it a thousand times. “A lady should never be too vain about her abilities.” She quirked a smile at him. “Perhaps I was born to be a warrior, not a princess.”
You were born to be a queen, he thought with conviction. He took the guard from her and tossed it to Dmitri, who grinned like the fiend he was. “Would you care to take a walk with me, Your Highness? I’ll show you our training camp.”
“I would love nothing more.”
She placed her hand at the crook of his arm. Her touch both rattled and grounded him. The woman had the strangest effect on him. He led her along the ridge toward the sparring pit. Brennalyn and Dmitri walked down the hill toward the ring where Helena and Beatrice stood off to the side. Dmitri positioned himself a yard behind Helena, hands at his back, eyes watchful. He’d been protective of her ever since they’d saved her from King Dominik’s prison fortress. Mikhail wondered at that, then Mina broke in.
“So, the Bloodguard is training the human army for the Black Lily.”
He brought her to a stop as they watched Gavril wielding a thin-bladed short sword, demonstrating in slow motion on Yuri where to stab a vampire through at the back of the neck and into the skull in order to kill with one strike. Gavril and Yuri were two of his best men.
“Not entirely,” he answered. “Nikolai has already taught most these men both on Cutters Cove and those we’ve recruited here the essentials of hand-to-hand combat as well as battle strategy. My men are also training them in deadly force and use of weapons.” He pointed off to the right of the sparring pit, where a group surrounded it. The burly human, Ivan, had his brother in a choke hold as they demonstrated evasive moves in slow motion for newer recruits. “Do you see those two men down there?”
“Yes.”
“That’s Ivan and Evan Barrow.”
“Yes, I know them. They were kind to me when Arabelle had me kidnapped.”
Mikhail slid his gaze down to her. The chilly wind lifted strands of her white-gold hair, a tendril gliding over her lips. She swiped it away, then looked up at him, a sweet, innocent expression softening her face.
“You didn’t know Arabelle had abducted me when I was sent here to the Glass Tower for my wedding?”
He flinched at the thought of her marrying Marius. Of her marrying any other man.
“Yes. I heard.” He watched the sparring session, Friedrich’s boys leaning on the wooden fence surrounding the small arena. “I suppose it’s difficult to imagine, seeing where we are now.”
“Yes, you’ve all been hard at work since I’ve been…gone.”
His heart clenched at where she’d been the past months. “So, you learned archery growing up at Briar Rose.”
“I did.” She smiled with confidence.
“And what else did you learn with such proficiency in the south?”
Her smile faded. “Nothing else very exciting, I’m afraid.” She heaved out a sigh. “The typical makings of a lady. Embroidery. Dancing. Painting. Music. Though I did enjoy riding. Did you know the Arkadian horses are considered the finest breed across all four kingdoms?”
“I did.” He liked hearing the pride in her voice. “Friedrich has two Arkadians.”
“Really?” She glanced down at the fields, stopping their leisurely pace. Soft flakes of snow began to fall. “Where does he keep them?”
“One of the men is a farmer who has a sizeable barn on his homestead nearby, just outside Hiddleston. Harrison keeps a few horses for the Black Lily. And there are others who are doing the same within the vicinity of the forest.”
She nodded. “It seems you’ve all been planning well for quite some time.”
“We have.”
“And everyone’s playing their part. Even Sienna and the hart wolves.”
“Yes. Nikolai and Sienna risked their lives recruiting toward the north. That’s when they heard from Friedrich about you and where you were. And Sienna, she…”
She gazed curiously up at him. “What did Sienna do?”
“She had a sort of vision, actually. She’s, well, I’m not sure how to say this. She’s been gifted with prophetic sight…among other things.”
“I see. And apparently she had a vision that involved me, didn’t she?”
He gave a stiff nod.
“Well?”
Clenching his jaw at the vision Friedrich told him of, one he’d be damned to hell before he let come to fruition, he stared down the hill. “The full vision is disturbing, to say the least. She remembered a dark fairy tale her grandmother once told her. But this time, she saw the faces of those within the tale clearly. She saw you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You were married to King Dominik. You bore him a child. And the queen—” he forced himself to face her—“she took your newborn babe and killed him. Drank him dry.”
Mina’s eyes widened in horror, but Mikhail would withhold nothing from her. She must understand all that was at stake. Not simply the breaking of the caste system and equality among human and vampirekind.
“She used black magic and sacrificed the pure-blood vampire child to plunge our world into eternal darkness, where she would reign supreme, unfettered by laws or rules. Where she could spread her wickedness and the blood madness far and wide until all who lived were slaves unto her.”
Mina wobbled. He gripped her shoulders.
“But that was Sienna’s vision, you said.” Her face paled. “That doesn’t mean it will come true.”
“No. It won’t come true. I promise you that.”
He smelled a friendly scent and heard someone approaching in a run.
“Your Highness!” Allora shouted.
They both turned to see her step from the woods. She ran to them, her buckskin coat with fur hood protecting her from the falling snow. She panted puffs of white when she finally reached them.
“Marius and Arabelle have returned. They called for you as soon as they arrived. And you, too, Captain. They’re with Friedrich at Brennalyn’s cottage.”
“We’ll join them immediately,” said Mikhail.
Allora nodded and swept down the hill toward the sparring pen.
Soft flakes were sticking to Mina’s hair. He reached up with both hands and lifted the dark green hood of her cloak. Though a vampire could withstand the cold, he couldn’t bear the thought of her being uncomfortable in any way.
“I hope they bring good news,” she murmured.
Tucking his hands back in his pocket, he crooked an arm for her to take to escort her back. She did so, leaning softly toward him as if they’d walked side by side a thousand times. He wondered what that would be like. For this to be commonplace, to walk beside her.
“I do as well.” He heaved out a heavy sigh. “But I doubt it will be.”
“You don’t think King Agnar will support his brother?”
Mikhail gave a tight shake of the head. “I have sources who tell me the king is unlikely to side against his mother.”
Mina’s grip tightened on his arm. Her eyes narrowed. “That witch has put the fear into everyone, hasn’t she? Not just the commoners she tramples on. But even her own kin.”
“Yes. She has.”
Her steps quickened, meeting his long strides, quickening their trek back through Silvane Forest.
“You don’t appear to be afraid.” He pushed a low-hanging branch aside as she passed under it.
“I’m not. I’m furious.”
Mikhail smiled. She caught him.
“You think that’s funny?”
“No,” he answered soberly, though he still smiled. “I think that’s wonderful. We need anger, Your Highness, to fuel us till the end. To wipe out her armies and to raze her kind from this land. To destroy her and King Dominik and start anew.”
He glanced to see if his words frightened her. For they were honest words. He chose to be as forthright as she was with him. Her fierce expression of determination never wavered. If anything, she appeared downright warrior-like, ready to march into battle.
“I believe we must do whatever necessary and pay whatever cost in order to end her reign.”
They rounded the bend, Brennalyn’s cottage coming into view. A plume of wood smoke unfurled from the chimney.
“Indeed, Captain. I’m ready to play my part, whatever that might be.” Grim determination burned bright in her steely expression as she released him and stepped up to the cottage door. “Whatever the cost.”
Mikhail’s heart skipped a beat at the look on her face. For it was the exact same expression he’d seen in the mirror these many years since his father had died. Both he and Mina had lost much at the hands of Queen Morgrid. They were united in their need not just for vengeance, but for justice. It appeared fate continued to find ways to bind them together. At least in this regard, Mikhail had no objections.