Page 63 of A Beastly Court

“If I can’t do it on my own,” I asked bitterly, “then what good am I?”

“Your worth is something you need to decide for yourself; no one can tell you what it is. No one else has the right to. But there is no one like you in the world, and that’s something special.” The tomcat rubbed his head against my knee and perked his ears, his optimism almost catching.

“Decide your heart and the rest will follow?” I asked wryly.

The little cat gave a stout nod. “Sounds like a good start.”

I scooped him into my arms, hugging him so tight he squeaked. “Forget Ossian’s ring,” I whispered into his soft fur. “I want to be worthy of your faith in me.”

He gave me one of his aggressive snuggles, mashing his head under my chin. “You already are.”

I was, and I could prove it, to both him and myself. After giving the cat a brief cuddle, I eased him into the foraging bag and lifted my gaze to the bear. The old terror resurfaced once more, but I tamped it down. I might always fear him, but I would never be mindless in my fear again. I was stronger and smarter than that. And I had friends to help me when it seemed too overwhelming. It took me a few tries, a few swallows to find my voice, but I managed a clear and concise, “I’m sorry.”

With that declaration, that choice, something within me shifted. Snapped. An invisible restraint had been destroyed.

The bear was eyeing me, which wasn’t unusual, but what was noticeably unusual was the fact that his eyes were no longer that hateful amber. They were hazel. And… kind. I blinked, startled.

He realized the change in my perception a second after I did, and the grizzly reared back onto his haunches with an excited grunt. He’d done that exact maneuver before, when he’d had me pinned against the fireplace grate, but this time it didn’t look like he was preparing to crush me. His paws were spread as if to embrace me, however impossible that was, and the grumble emanating from his chest wasn’t a growl. It was a plea? An affectionate rumble? I couldn’t tell, and I’d never find out, either.

For at that moment, a crack like that of a gunshot echoed across the ravine, loud enough to be heard through the thick windows. In just three sprinted steps, I had my face pressed against the glass and found Flora’s wagon stopped on the bridge, the tailgate torn clean off and flowers and shrubs and pottery dashed upon the ground. The honey badger cowered in the mess, one paw raised to protect her face, as the fae king gestured to his second-in-command. The one-armed man craned his club back for another strike.

My blood boiled instantly.

“Ossian!” I bellowed.

CHAPTER THIRTY

I don’t know how they heard of it, from Gertrude, perhaps, but Daphne and Shari came thundering down another hallway, nearly colliding into me as I burst from the great hall, the grizzly bear bellowing at my back.

“He’s beating her,” the mare cried.

“Move over,” I told the porcupine, and Shari jumped back, holding on to Daphne’s tail as I swung myself onto the mare’s shoulders. Gripping the mare’s mane in one hand, I reached for the porcupine with the other. “Go, Daphne!”

She surged forward, the echo of her hooves clattering against the stone floor like the cascading roar of an avalanche. Shari’s claws stabbed through my dress and pinched into my back as the mare took a sharp right turn at the foyer. A dash under the raised portcullis led us out into the main courtyard and the bridge beyond.

The ruined tailgate added splinters to the shards of terra-cotta pottery, black soil, and flowers strewn across the gray stone. In front of the carnage was the honey badger, tears leaking from her glossy black eyes, and the fae king and his second standing over her.

“P-please,” Flora whimpered, one paw still raised in supplication. “I don’t know what happened. I brought you the exact same order as before, just as you requested.”

“Liar!” the fae king raged. “If that were true, Meadow’s core would be free and I’d be going home tonight. I will not suffer your churlish behavior or your undermining tongue any longer! Alec, I am still displeased. Do something about that.”

Alec hefted his club even higher, but it never struck.

Thorny green vines wrapped around his wrist, yanking him clean off his feet and hurling him into the back of the wagon. Then they seized the fae king, wrenching him so violently he crashed to the ground.

The King of Beasts was on his bare feet and snarling when I slid off of Daphne’s back, green magic whipping around me.

“How dare you touch her,” I seethed.

“I am correcting an egregious mistake,” he fired back. “Do not interfere!”

“I will always stand between my friends and those who terrorize them.” It took only a second to bond with my oak tree this time, its wooden pulse pounding like a war drum. I sank into it, becoming it, until there was no distinction between where I ended and it began. Though constricted by the chain mail net smothering the canopy, I felt no pain from its presence. While it curbed my power, I had enough for what was to come.

“Flora.” My voice resonated in a strange, two-octave tone. “Come here!”

Slinking on her belly, the honey badger made to scurry over to us, but the fae king was not going to let her go so easily. He did when I lashed him across the face with my vines, drawing a thin line of blood across one cheek. Incredulous, he pressed a palm against the wound and hissed when it came away red and wet.

Exactly like the trail Flora left behind as she finished crossing the bridge to the safety of our friends. Blood from an unseen wound sank into the seams between the stones. It took every ounce of my self-control not to strike him again, to bleed him like he had the honey badger.