Warrior (Princesses of Myth #2)

Butterflies abounded as he placed his hand over my belly. “That’s because I’m hungry, Mr. Sleuth.”


“So I wasn’t imagining your sharp tongue.”

“I do not have a sharp tongue. I have a sharp mind.”

He groaned, swung his legs out of bed then reached for his boots. He laced them, peering over his shoulder at me. “I’ll be back. I’ll go raid the castle’s kitchens, again.”

I crawled to him. “I see you’re not a morning person.”

“Nope.” He picked up his sword and belted it around his hips. “Not when I was lost in a nice dream.”

“About?”

He leaned in and kissed me. “Don’t wander too far from the cabin. The outhouse is around the back.”

I released my mind-merge, feeling the ache of withdrawal inside my head as I did. I looked into his eyes. “Gosh, it’s like I’m not supposed to leave your mind. I can’t believe how heavily one with this skill relies on the other. Could you bring some paper and ink? I need to start recording this.” I slid my hands underneath my knees to prevent myself from reaching for him.

“Sure I can. What do you usually eat for breakfast?”

“You choose.” I squeezed the thin feather mattress as he stepped back and ’ported.

Right, the outhouse.

I strolled outside and gawked as the rain fell. Large, fat drops splattered into my palm as I held it out from under the eaves of the small porch.

Oh, amazing.

Fresh water.

I sipped it. Across the small clearing, two other closed-up cabins sat, surrounded by giant pines.

Above, a lush green canopy drooped under the weight of the night’s rainfall and tree trunks glistened as water streamed down their sides. Everywhere, so much water.

In the distance, the river roared.

As I jumped off the top step, water splashed over the bottoms of my jeans and toes.

I was away, twirling around and skipping toward the river so close.

Dirt and grass squished around my feet, and I grinned as I came out from under the trees. White water tumbled over wide gray boulders and rocks. Oh, this was not the idle outback river I was used to. No. This was an art form in motion, nature at its most chaotic, singing of life.

I scrambled over the slick rocks at the sides and stood on the highest point, mesmerized by the pounding water and the spray coating my bare arms.

The water pebbled as I tickled my fingers over my skin. More. I wanted more.

Beaming, I looked over the rapids. Dad would be experiencing a forewarning if I shouldn’t be here. I’d always had an affinity for water, despairing over the outback’s drought, yet I took every opportunity to swim wherever possible in Dralion. “Dad, you know I’m a super strong swimmer, and I can’t miss this.”

I waited, jiggling about.

No one appeared, not Dad to forestall me, nor a warrior he’d sent.

I was good to go.

I dove, and the current shot me to the surface. Water dumped over my head then swelled under and tossed me back up. Over and over, I was volleyed about.

I giggled whenever I broke for air, and my squeals echoed all around. It was bliss. Goldie should be here to enjoy the fun. She would love this.

I gulped rain-scented air while the scenery rushed past. An occasional deer flashed by, prancing along the bank, drinking from the surging water. The rumbling, gushing river raced me down the valley. As the forest vanished, cattle grazed in glistening pastures below a blue sky dotted with gray bubbling clouds.

What a sight. If only this stormy weather would hit the station.

The station? Heck, I had work and I should be there.

I eyed the river ahead. An area pooled to one side. I had to make that. Kicking out, I headed away from the center. Finally, I made the shallows. I splashed about as I found my feet, the rocky bed sharp. “Ouch.” I jumped as the stones cut the underside of my foot.

I dragged myself onto the sandy shore and flopped onto my back. My jeans clung to my legs, and the borrowed shirt had been stretched beyond repair.

“There. You. Are.”

Goldie’s tone was low and her gaze intimidating as she stood over me. Next to her Dad stood, his arms crossed and his thick black leather coat flapping heavily around his ankles.

“Hey.” Okay, I was in trouble.

Two sets of violet eyes, the exact shade as mine, mirrored frustration. Dad stepped forward and lent me a hand. “I watched.”

He drew me up, and I wobbled as I kept off my sore foot. “Is the protector, Silas Carver, the one you want?” he asked.

Goldie hissed in a sharp breath. “No, Hope. The plan was to get Saunder’s father then go your separate ways. What happened to the plan?”

“It’s gotten a little lost.” I glanced between the two of them. “Neither of you can hurt Silas. He’s the other half of my soul and you know how deep the–”