Wings of Spring

Chapter Two

Hanna

Pain lances through my arm as we winnow to the nearby village I saw during my flight south. The feeling of the calluses on his hand and his warmth send heat to my core. I grit my teeth and curse myself as my arm jolts when we land. Pull yourself together! You've had worse than this.

Tamlin is right. I should be resting my arm, but the idea of any male, especially the High Lord of Spring, fighting my enemies while I cower sickens me. I am an Illyrian. I am a warrior, and I will not hide like a coward.

I heave a silent sigh of exasperation. Cassian would have me running drills for days, if he didn't throw me off the House of Wind, for getting myself into this mess. I made a rookie mistake in letting those naga catch me off guard, in letting my panic override my training. Surprise attack or not, I shouldn't have winnowed the way I did. Female Illyrian warriors are rare, and as the leader of the only all female Illyrian legion, I cannot afford to do such foolish things.

I cannot deny the High Lord beside me is handsome with his eyes the color of sunshine and leaves and springtime. I admire him with a sidelong glance. Something about him calls to me. His hand is warm and sturdy in my own. It sends tingles down my spine. The small quirk of his lips quickens my pulse, and... I push my emotions down. Now is not the time. Battle first, feelings later. Cassian drilled lesson after lesson into our heads. In the heat of battle, emotions and panic are distractions that can kill you. I will my mind to empty of everything but the thought of battle. We appear in a small clearing a mile away from where I fell. The scent of the naga grows stronger as we stalk towards the small village on silent feet.

Tamlin stops in the clearing and raises his eyebrows in a silent question. I spread my wings, testing for any injuries. A wave of relief sweeps through me when I feel nothing worse than a dull ache. I can fly and my good arm is sore, but it is still strong. I draw the blade from my back, testing the weight. The blade whips through the air as light and easy as a breeze. I flip my braid out of my face and flash a dazzling grin to Tamlin. "Show me what you are made of, High Lord."

He answers me with a feral smile of his own. It tightens something in my chest. Such wickedness and bloodlust. He flicks his eyes towards the sky. Taking the hint, I shoot into the sky to scout ahead. After a few moments, I spy the naga lurking on the edge of the village, a few hundred feet from where Tamlin waits. They seem to be waiting for something. I fly back and signal to Tamlin, pointing in the direction of the naga. He nods his understanding and vanishes under the canopy. I speed towards the ground, blade held high. I screech a battle cry and the creatures look up. I land in front of the five naga. I hold my blade in front of me, leaving my guard open, baiting them. "Come get some, ugly!" I taunt.

Tamlin appears behind the naga. They don't hear him. His face holds nothing but pure battle rage. It is delightful. While the creatures focus on me, the High Lord slices the neck of two of the creatures with his talons. The blood of the naga drips down his claws. I savor the bloodlust coursing through me at the sight. The dying screams of the naga grate against my ears, but I rush forward. Two swipes, one to the gut and one to the neck, of my blade have the third naga laying in a twitching, bloody heap. The last two back away and I let loose a laugh as Tamlin snarls at our foes.

Tamlin and I stalk closer to the fleeing naga. Something seems off, but Tamlin continues forward. The sound of screaming rises from the village behind us. I whirl around and the naga lunge forward. All I know is a sensation of agony as razor sharp talons rip through my back. One of the naga pulls back his claws, dripping with my blood. Tamlin is locked in battle with the fifth naga, but I hear him shout my name.

I push away the blackness at the edge of my vision. An instinctive rage ignites from deep within me, dulling the pain. I raise my blade and snarl, "Cheap shot, you creepy bastard!" The naga grins at me in a way that makes my blood chill. I launch myself forward with a shout.

"Cheap shots are what win fights." The words are a hiss. Bloodlust roars in my ears as I lunge forward. I feint a low attack, and the naga moves to defend his lower body. I raise my blade and the steel meets his neck with a wet sound. The naga's head rolls away.

More screaming comes from the village and I race towards it. Some part of my mind hears Tamlin shouting after me, but I ignore it. Adrenaline keeps me on my feet. The village is in panic. Naga tear into the fleeing villagers with their claws and smoke rises from a burning house. I leap into battle, dispatching two naga before they can scream.

My Siphon glows as I summon a shield to encase my broken arm. Tamlin appears at my side. His eyes take in my ravaged wing and back. "Hanna..."

I turn my gaze to him. My voice sounds hoarse. "Tamlin, protect your people. I am fine."

He nods before racing forward. A beast of fur and talons and rage rips from his skin, its battle roar echoing from the houses. Many naga glance at the High Lord and flee. I smile slightly and throw myself into the fray.

My sword sings a song of battle and death. His talons tell a tale of blood and fury. The screaming lessens as we take out the naga that remain. I glance around looking for another opponent, but I only find the bodies of the naga and the villagers we were too late to save. I feel my strength ebbing away quickly.

The green shield from my Siphon flickers and vanishes. Tamlin races to me, back in his Fae form and covered in blood. I manage to grin at him, but I feel my knees buckle. I dig my blade into the ground and lean against it.

His hand reaches for me. "Hanna, are you..."

I brush him off with a wave of my own hand. My injuries begin to throb in time with my heartbeats, leaving a fresh wave of pain in its wake. "I'm fine."

The villagers approach us before Tamlin can say anything more. One of the females, the elder by her white hair, bows to us. Her voice grates on the ears but holds nothing but gratitude. "You save us. Many thanks to you High Lord and to you lady."

I smile at her. My knees shake and I dig the sword into the ground harder. This pain threatens to consume me. I see Tamlin glance at me again, but he says nothing. The edges of my vision begin to swim. I've lost too much blood.

Some part of me reaches out for the High Lord standing beside me... Safe. The word flits through my head, a phantom thought. I call out to him, my voice weak. "Tamlin..."

He turns to face me when I say his name, and I lock eyes with him before my knees give out. There it is again. That calling to something deep within me. The sensation of falling... then warmth and safety and... him.

I faintly hear him shout my name before I am lost to the blackness. Safe, safe, safe