haunches, taking Saxon’s other boot with me. “But... I can’t be Leonora. I don’t have memories of a past life.”
“You passed out for less than a second, then you woke, stood and spoke to me. When I failed to tell you what you wished to hear, you attacked.”
“No. There has to be another explanation.” Because, if he spoke true, I could have also awakened in the warlock’s chamber. I could have attacked him and...and...my mother. That would mean I was the one who’d...that I’d... My chin trembled, and I gave my head another shake. “I’m not a reincarnate. I can’t be. I would know.” No version of me would ever harm my mother. “If I were a witch, I would wield fire magic all the time, not just in my sleep. And I don’t. I’m completely powerless. But you... I can absolutely picture you as the most savage king ever to rule the avian.”
“You are Leonora.” His voice sounded different now. Deeper. Huskier. Menacing. As if the king had just come out to play. “Twice you murdered my family. Twice you murdered me and burned my home. Have the courage to admit it. Or, at the very least, make your denial more believable.”
“I’m not her,” I whispered, my tone broken. “I’m not.”
His confidence remained unwavering. “I’ll prove you’re the witch. Just give me time, Princess. Just give me time.”
5
Let nothing push you off course.
Do what you must, even by force.
SAXON
I floundered, the schemes and trials I’d so looked forward to enacting suddenly tainted and far less enjoyable than they’d been during their conception. How was I supposed to deal with someone in complete denial of the truth? More important, why was I tempted to believe her delusions?
Well, that one I could answer. Passion had steeped her every word, and the nature of the avian—one that rewarded strength, courage, and resilience—wouldn’t allow me to dismiss her claims outright.
“You don’t feel like a reincarnate, so you aren’t?” I arched a brow. “Feelings are subjective, fleeting, and always subject to change, Princess, but truth remains the same forever.”
Almost desperate, she said, “Let’s say we’re both who you say we are, then. They—we—attacked each other in two previous lives. Therefore, I should get to punish you, too.”
Well, well. Another Leonora response. Except, the Leonora of old never would have left evidence of her crimes. She would have killed the witnesses, the very soldiers who’d helped her. Ashleigh had owned her actions and all but told me why I should thank her for them. A feat I admired.
“You forget,” I said, remembering the justification I’d had to feed her father. “I’m only punishing you for what you did as Ashleigh. So, tell me. What wrong have I done to you as Saxon?”
“You got me banished to the Temple.”
“You got yourself banished.”
Adriel entered then, carrying a tray piled high with breads, cheese, fruits, and a bottle of wine. He had a wealth of red curls, freckled white skin and ebony wings. We had been somewhat friendly as children, but I didn’t know the man he’d become.
Ashleigh paled as he placed the tray on the trunk. Did she fear all avian or Adriel specifically? Because she didn’t act this way with me. But why would she fear the others and not me? And why did I suddenly want to stand between her and the world?
Stupid question. I knew why, I just didn’t like that the sense of connection had resurged, rousing my most protective instincts.
Protect my enemy? I’d rather die. If Ashleigh got hurt, Ashleigh got hurt. I would not aid her in any way. She might be inexplicably attractive to me, but I preferred warrior women to dainty princesses, and always had.
“Where are the rest of my supplies?” I asked him.
“Soon to arrive, my lord.” He glared at her, as if he knew her real identity. He didn’t. He couldn’t. Only my closest allies knew the truth, and they did not spread the news. Queen Raven might suspect it because of what happened in the garden, but she didn’t know. Ashleigh would already be dead. “Your mother’s messenger arrived, sir. The mer-king missed a day of peace talks, sending an advisor in his place. Queen Raven would like to know how you think she should retaliate?”
This was a test, no doubt. The avian didn’t tolerate disrespect well. If we gave it, we demanded it in return or we cut the offender from our lives. My mother would expect me to prove I had the courage to