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I fell back on to the ground, scurrying as best I could from the beast in front of me. The fur disappeared, replaced with smooth skin, and then Baine was on one knee, gazing at me with furious intent.
“You’re . . .” My heart raced so fast I couldn’t speak. “You’re . . .”
“A shapeshifter. I know what I am.”
Impossible.
If fae were the fairy tale you heard about, shapeshifters were the nightmare that came and visited. From what I knew, not all fae could shapeshift, only the extremely powerful ones, including the immortal King of the Fae, Kane. He was a polymorph, and I’d heard he would judge his people in different forms based on his mood.
How did Lord Demious end up with a shifter fae as his bodyguard?
Needing to distract myself from the terror before me, I changed the topic. “How did you find me so fast?”
“We all have our secrets.” Baine glanced down. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s my foot.”
“Let me see.”
I stretched out my bad leg and he picked up my foot, gently pressing the sides.
“Does this hurt,” he asked as he pressed.
“No, no, ouch!” I jerked back.
“You’ll need to rest. It’s not sprained, only a little bruised. You’ll feel better tomorrow, but no walking on it tonight.”
“What does that mean?”
He took one of his blades out of its sheath and grabbed my dress. “I’ll have to carry you.”
“The whole way?”
“Yes,” he replied and sliced a piece of my nightgown off. “You were foolish to stand there. What were you thinking?”
“I didn’t think they were going to whisk me off into the sky. I think they wanted to help. They tried bringing me through the barrier, which really hurt.”
Baine lifted my leg and my nightshift slid toward my hips. The night breeze blew through me and while my skin prickled with sensitivity where he touched, his gaze focused on wrapping my foot.
“That should help until we have a cleric examine it.”
This time, Baine looked directly at me. His face pinched in that angry stare, before his gaze went to my mouth, and he wiped the blood off with a swipe of his finger. “What are you?”
“I’m human.”
“No, you’re something else.” He lifted his left hand and whispered in the fae tongue. His tattoo glowed a vibrant silver, tiny tendrils of magic hovering over his arm.
He brought his palm to my body, slowly hovering over the skin, so close I could feel the tinge of magic seeping through my night dress. Inch by inch he trailed his hand around me. When he hovered by my breasts, my pounding heart almost made me faint. I stilled, not knowing what else to do.
His jaw twitched, but he kept moving, circling around until he stopped by my heart. His eyes widened and he pressed his palm to my breast. Too anxious to move or speak, I stared at him, wondering the point of this odd exercise.
Clinical like a doctor, his touch had no sensuality, no hint at a playful tussle.
The glowing stopped and he pulled his hand away. “Your magic is wild, strong. There is something old inside you.”
Father made me and my brother swear to never to speak of our heritage. We pretended to be a family descended from sorcerers. If anyone knew that my father had been half human and half elemental, the Magi Council would have stolen my brother and me the day we were born. The elementals were the only uncontrolled race in Saol. Also, the oldest and strongest magic users.
“Just plain old magic,” I said with a wide smile.
