HEIR | The Cursed Monarchy | Book 1

Rise: Part II, Chapter 12

As if released by her voice, Daire stepped toward her, closing the distance between them. She watched him, determination growing with every step he took. Something inside her shifted. She felt slightly exposed; that small nugget of trust was taking hold, and it made her vulnerable to him. But she didn't look away, nor did she flinch from him as his body slid by.

Why is he here? she thought, feeling like a fool. He didn't need her. If she were killed in the bowels of Bráithre Delve, it would simply unburden him of her presence. Surely he would forget her in a month's time. And no matter how she rationalized it, she found it difficult to simply accept how he could so easily walk away and abandon her completely.

With her heart torn in two, Cecily raised her arms and closed her eyes, focusing on the remaining energy inside her and summoning it forth. She felt the power wrench in her bones, and heard the popping and cracking of the air as it bubbled around her fingers. Suddenly, a sagging branch from a nearby tree split off its trunk with an ominous crack and soared through the air toward the dark prince.

Daire must have felt the movement in her mind first, that initial breathtaking moment when her power reawakened; the quick, but soft, shy beginnings of raw energy, of awareness. Then came the hesitation she felt before striking him, where she summoned the courage to do as her heart asked – because she was truly cross with him.

It wasn't a surprise when he deflected the blow with a shield he had conjured with a casual wave of his wrist, demonstrating his magical expertise as the glowing energy sent the branch careening off into the distant landscape. He smiled roguishly, knowing she craved approval in his eyes, respect in his mind, and that small smile he always gave her when she did something extraordinary.

Her energy seemed to emerge and regress for him alone. The colors of her soul were blending, glowing a shimmering coral color, and that fascinated him. She would have never done such a thing near anyone else, let someone witness the total vulnerability of such a moment when she was completely at his mercy and unable to protect herself after releasing so much of her energy.

Cecily became aware slowly, inch by inch, rather than all at once as she normally did. She could hear her heart slamming hard in her chest and her pulse roaring in her ear. Her mind felt slow and hazy and her body was sore.

Gallantly, Daire took her trembling hand in his. With a small half-bow, he kissed her knuckles and tucked her fingers into the crook of his elbow.

"You never cease to surprise me, Cecily," he said.

Her demeanor changed from wrath to curiosity. Her long lashes fluttered, and a sweet shyness slipped into her dark eyes.

"That's different," she said; her lips bore a sheepish smirk. Since becoming accustomed to life in Bráithre Delve, Cecily hated hearing her given name, yet when Daire said it, something cold and hard inside her heart dissolved. She liked hearing her name on his lips, even loved the way it rolled off his tongue in that low, sensual tone of his.

"You've grown stronger. I see your eyes full of passion and clarity. It's a look I know all too well," he said as his gaze flickered downward at her belt, which held three new weapons in sheaths lined with fur. "And I'm impressed. Now that's truly different."

"Impressed with what, exactly?" she said, raising her brow. It was a statement rather than a question. "The dwarves aren't teaching me magic."

"They're romantics," Daire said, smiling. "The dwarves follow a code of honor. The races are all the same in that respect. So they're teaching you what matters most: discipline – that way you'll use your magic wisely when the time comes. And" – he hesitated – "I'm sure you've realized dwarves aren't known for giving easy answers." He grinned ruefully. "Or any answers at all, if they can help it. But they're the best teachers – and the best companions – you could possibly have right now."