Reign of the Fallen (Reign of the Fallen #1)

With the heat of annoyance prickling the back of my neck, I snatch the bag of coffee beans from her grasp. “She already does.”

I toss a handful in my mouth, settling the bag on my lap. Casually, like we’ve been friends forever, Meredy leans over and reaches into the bag.

She gasps as my fingers close over her wrist and I say through gritted teeth, “Quit taking things that aren’t yours.”

“I bought these!” Meredy snarls, tugging herself free with none of her usual composure.

“Well, you can’t buy Kasmira’s friendship. Or Valoria’s. Or mine.” I throw the bag back at Meredy, who doesn’t even attempt to catch it. She’s too busy trying to keep a scowl off her face.

I close my eyes and lean against the wagon boards, thinking of the carefully folded drawing I found in my cloak pocket as we pulled away from Grenwyr. Three ink girls smiled up at me from the parchment, three perfect likenesses of me, Valoria, and Meredy. I don’t know what the princess was thinking when she drew it, but had it been a gift from anyone else, I’d have fed it to Lysander instead of shoving it back in my pocket.

“Do you know why I agreed to this job?” Meredy says suddenly, cutting into my thoughts once again. “I certainly don’t need the money.” She waits until I’ve cracked open one eye, giving her a reluctant stare, before continuing, “Lysander likes you.”

I look past her, through the canvas opening, to see the grizzly lumbering in the wagon’s wake. “Good. I like him, too.”

Meredy gives me an expectant gaze, like I’m supposed to say something more. She tilts her head in the silence. “You really don’t understand the depth of the bond between beast and master, do you?”

I shrug.

She leans toward me, and I instinctively draw back. “Lysander doesn’t like most people,” she murmurs. “But when he looks at you, he practically glows. I suppose you’d have to see it to really picture it, but the feelings he shows when you’re around are the brightest shades of yellow and pink that tint the air around his fur.”

I smile, trying to imagine it. “What about when he’s unhappy?”

“If he’s sad, I see a lot of dark blues and greens. And if he’s angry, reds. Or if he notices someone he really doesn’t like, I see black all around him, like a stain or a silhouette of a second bear blurring with his . . .” Meredy pauses, frowning. “Like today in the throne room, for instance.”

I sit taller, gooseflesh rising on my arms. “Someone there was upsetting him?”

She nods. “Could’ve been anyone, for any reason. It happens often, and it would be impossible to know who unless we tested each person alone with him. I’ve just seen that he likes you. And he thinks Valoria is a bear cub.”

I can’t help it. I smile. Meredy nudges my side a moment later, and I glance back. She’s put the bag of coffee beans on the floor between us. When we both reach in at the same time, the back of my hand brushes hers, and a shiver runs up my arm. It startles my heart into beating double.

Her fingers curl around mine for a moment, warm and steady, before she jerks her hand away as though she’s been stung. Shaking her head as though to clear it, she seems to recover herself.

“Here.” Meredy’s lips twitch as she holds up a coffee bean. “Catch!”

I open my mouth, but the bean hits me on the nose and skitters out of sight. Meredy tries to disguise her derisive snort as a cough, making me hot all over. “Oh, like you can do better,” I growl, reaching into the bag.

I throw three beans at once, and the last one lands on her outstretched tongue.

“You’ve probably been practicing,” I mutter, trying not to look impressed. “Let me try again.”

“Certainly.” Meredy’s eyes gleam. “I’ll go easy on you. One at a time.”

The first one hits my forehead. The second lands in my hair. The third sails over my head. Meredy’s tosses are terrible. After the fifth attempt, she stops.

“Try again! The wagon keeps hitting bumps.” I frown. “It’s throwing off your aim.”

“The wagon was rattling when I caught mine, too,” Meredy says evenly, with no hint of a smirk in her voice or otherwise. “Some things are out of your control. Like the path of the wagon and who’s riding in it with you. Find a way to accept it, or give up.”

“You’re one to talk.” I lean toward her, wincing as the wagon wheels bang against a loose rock. “You act like you have everything under control, but you don’t, and it drives you mad.”

She purses her lips, then folds her hands neatly in her lap. Every small action she makes seems so carefully planned.

“You drive me mad,” she says quietly. Blushing, she adds quickly, louder, “At least I’m in control of my own actions. At least I’m not so caught up in my own problems that I fail to see what’s going on around me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my eyes, thanks. Now toss me another coffee bean.”

Meredy tilts her head, frowning as she grabs the coffee bag. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“Since the day I was born.” I cross my arms. “So get used to it or go back to Grenwyr.”

Her eyes shining like hard stones, she says, “Evander must’ve really loved you to put up with this every day.”

My fist seems to have a mind of its own as it crashes into the wagon siding near Meredy’s perfect face. She’s breathing hard, her eyes closed in the aftermath of the blow. Maybe she thought I was actually aiming to hit her.

“Don’t talk to me about him,” I growl.

“Is everything all right back there?” Master Cymbre shouts.

“Fine!” Meredy and I answer at the same time, gazing steadily at one another. Our breathing is hot and rapid and almost stifling in the confines of the wagon’s hold. The dampness of her breath collects on my lips, and I impatiently lick it away.

Glaring at her, I wish she’d take a swing back at me. “Look, we might as well be honest. For some strange, twisted reason, you don’t like me because I loved your brother.”

“That’s not it.” Meredy scowls back, but her hands remain folded in her lap. “What I don’t like is that you’re so selfish you don’t notice anyone’s pain but your own.” When she speaks again, her voice is softer, more controlled. “But because it’s what my brother would’ve wanted, I’m going to stay with you and guard you until the danger has passed. Then we can go our separate ways.”

“What are you talking about, anyone’s pain but mine?”

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