A Captive of Wing and Feather A Retelling of Swan Lake - Melanie Cellier Page 0,52

claws raking down my back.

We burst from between two trees into an area where they grew more sparsely. We flew across the space, moving faster over the open ground, but had only made it half way when a loud bugling sounded. Feathers filled the air, white with a flash of black.

“No!” I shouted as my swans interposed themselves in a wall of wings between us and the pursuing bear.

I stumbled to a stop, turning back, but Gabe grabbed at me, dragging me onward.

“We can’t stop,” he panted. “We have to put some distance between us and that creature.”

“But my birds—” My bugle did nothing to slow him down, and he continued to tug me along.

I twisted as he pulled me, peering back at the open area behind us. I couldn’t see past my swans, but I heard the bear give a roar that sounded more like a loud grunt. He must have waved a paw toward them because their line seemed to ripple and bulge as they pulled away from him.

He didn’t seem to have made any real attack on them, however, and Eagle let out a squeak that was more like a screech—the one that had earned her the name—and dove toward him. I squeaked myself, pulling back on Gabe, but somehow she wasn’t swatted down.

Gabe threw a glance back over his shoulder, taking in the scene behind us.

“We need to keep going. Please, Addie. I have to get you to safety. I don’t know how those birds are keeping him back, but they are, and we need to take the opportunity.”

Reluctantly, I nodded. The swans did seem to have escaped harm so far—almost as if the bear wasn’t interested in hurting them. Like how at the lake the other animals had ignored their arrival.

I latched onto that thought and took off running again, Gabe keeping pace beside me. After a while, the silence behind us made it clear the bear wasn’t pursuing us, but neither of us slowed until we broke through onto the road.

Gabe wheeled around and stared at me, his breath coming fast and his eyes wide. I was in worse shape, sucking in ragged breaths after the headlong flight.

“What in the kingdoms was that?” Gabe asked.

I shook my head. Even if I’d had words, I wouldn’t have known where to start. Instead, I tipped my head up and scanned the sky, hoping to catch sight of my swans, winging their way to meet us.

Still looking up, I stepped backward and onto a small stone. My ankle rolled, my trembling legs not able to catch me as I tipped backward.

Gabe lunged forward, grabbing at my shoulders and pulling me back forward, just in time. He drew me in against his chest, holding me there for balance. I gasped out my breaths, my heart beating raggedly against his.

“You’re all right, Addie,” he murmured against my hair, apparently sensing it wasn’t just the near trip that had me in such a state. “You’re all right.”

I let him hold me for a moment, drawing strength from his solid presence. I could feel his heart beating a slowly descending rhythm, but he otherwise seemed unaffected by our adventures.

I told myself that I should pull away, but my body didn’t obey my directive. Instead I let my head rest against his chest and felt myself relax.

It was a revelation.

I wanted to be held by this bold, reckless prince. Despite all the sensible strictures of my head, my heart was trying to convince me that here was safety and security—combined with the sort of heady thrill that kept my heart from completely returning to its normal pace.

Apparently my heart hadn’t learned its lesson after all. I pulled back sharply, forcing my body to obey this time. If Gabe noticed any oddity in my behavior, he didn’t comment.

“We need to get you back to the lake,” he said, instead. “I think there’s been enough excitement today without running late for that.”

I nodded slowly. That was something we could agree on, even if it wasn’t late enough to have me worrying yet. But as we started the walk back, I realized he was right. It had been years since I led the pampered life of a princess, but even with my time spent helping at the haven and the twice daily trek to the lake and back, I wasn’t used to so much physical exertion. My feet hurt, my legs ached, and I could already feel bruises forming in various places from where I