Warrior Fae Princess (Warrior Fae 2)

“This is false,” Charity said, anger inspiring her stubbornness. She gritted her teeth. “This feeling is false.” She stared accusingly at her grandmama. “Are you doing this? Can guardians create magic that messes with people feelings?”

“No, darling,” Romulus said, confusion still weighing down his features. “That magic is mostly legend. None of my family has had it in many generations. No, what you are feeling is the call of these lands. It is powerful. You’ve been ensnared, as we all have. Mother is right. Maybe—”

Shaking her head, Charity took a step back. It wasn’t these lands. This was magic, it had to be. And given that Charity could tell Romulus was telling the truth, it had to be from the First. But why was she feeling it now and hadn’t before? Surely her grandmama would want to tempt her to push Devon away.

And then it hit her. Like a Mack truck.

“You kept me busy, and away from the shifters, as much as possible,” Charity said to her grandmama. “You hinted at your displeasure at them seeing me in the evenings. That wasn’t because their magic would incite mine—it was because the shifter magic circumvents your magic somehow, doesn’t it? On the battle yard, when Devon blasted his magic out, people awoke as though from a dream. I saw it. People begged to fight them. Begged to bed them. Was that because of sexual taboo or promiscuity, or because they wanted to feel normal? They wanted the fire that the shifter magic allows them to feel?”

“You insolent child—” her grandmama started.

“Devon and I had a magical link. His magic was constantly with me. Constantly protecting me from this…whatever this is. Only now that he’s gone—that his magic is gone from me—do I feel it.” Charity laughed and shook her head. “You’re keeping people here, aren’t you? You’re basically trapping them here with your magic. What are you hiding from?”

“I never mentioned the cottage,” Romulus said softly, almost like he was talking to himself, working something out. “Purposely. I didn’t want you to know she was poor. How did you know…”

His voice trailed away. Pieces of the puzzle snapped into place. He studied the First.

“Those that have left…they’ve mostly been elders,” he said. “Those that left had witnessed our history outside of this place, instead of just hearing about it. Those that have stayed are unnecessarily tight-lipped about the shifters. About why we stay here. About what happened to Grandmother and Grandfather in the royal palace.” He shook his head slowly. “Tell me you aren’t manipulating your people, Mother. Tell me Charity is way off base.”

The First brought herself up regally. “It was decided. After your grandmother and grandfather were slaughtered in the royal palace, and I was newly in charge, my councilors agreed—we would gather our people together and live here, away from influence. Away from the unnecessary danger thrust upon us by those selfish, conniving elves. My magic was just blossoming at that time. My powers to sway my people were just manifesting. We all agreed that it was Fate. A divine nudge. I could protect us all. I could save us all. And so I did. Those that didn’t agree left, yes, that is true. And some younger who slipped away without my knowledge. But this is for the greater good. Keeping my magic hidden was for the greater good—everyone agreed! And here we’ve lived in harmony. In balance.”

“In boredom. Withering,” Charity said. “Cut off from your one true purpose.”

Romulus didn’t seem to hear Charity. “But how did your magic reach me in the human lands?” His voice was wispy. He didn’t want to accept the obvious.

“You are the Second. Your duty is here. You made a connection, your quest was fulfilled, and it was time you came home. End of story.” The First pushed her hair off her face indignantly.

“And I suppose the advisors covered for you when you were gone,” Romulus said. “I suppose they helped through all these long years to lie to our people, and hold them hostage, as you were clearly doing me.”

“We are leaders, Romulus. We have a duty to our people.”

“That duty is not lying, Mother. It is not drugging them with magic. It is not hiding from the ruling power in fear. In…cowardice. What you have done—what you are doing—is against our laws. Hiding magic is a punishable offense, especially magic such as this. How you kept it from us…from me…”

His mouth opened and closed like a fish’s. He was, truly, at a loss. That much Charity could read.

“What did you expect me to do, Romulus?” the First said in a lowered tone. “I was nineteen and my parents had just died. Been killed, if you must know. Assassinated. My world was ripped out from under me. My magic was surging, battering me. Our people’s numbers had been steadily falling, and after that bloodbath at the palace, going through us to get to the elf royalty, they were nearly cut in half. I saw friends die. I held them in my arms as they took their last breath. Something had to be done. Why else do you think the council crafted this plan and still, to this day, follow through? Our numbers now are higher than they’ve ever been in history. Our youth are growing up in peace and harmony, with long, happy lives in front of them. Because of me, they have futures. Because of me, we have a community. A growing, prospering community. This is what is best for our people.”