The Rockwell Pack can’t take Leisel, either, since she’s too young. I have no doubt they’ll try to come for her once she’s of age, but I intend to spend the next eight years training her to win her duel since I’m positive she’ll declare duelum when the time comes.
For the moment, we’re both as safe as possible. The elation that thought sends through me is vast. “Thank you, sweet girl,” I murmur into her hair, kissing the crown of her head. She hugs me back with all the strength in her body.
Both Mariketa and Parker approach us. I let Leisel go, hand her Chip, and rise to my feet, ignoring the wave of fatigue that rolls over me. Although I’m healed, I still lost a good amount of blood—only rest will return me to full strength.
Mariketa, without prompting, folds me into a hug. “You should’ve told us, child,” she says, pulling back. I see a flicker of hurt in her eyes—Mariketa’s known me since I was born and has seen me through difficult times, so it’s fair she’d expectme to be open with her.
I look to my feet, knowing she’s referring to my magic. “My mother told me to always keep it a secret,” I explain, looking back to her warm eyes. “She thought people would turn on me.”
Mariketa scoffs lightly. “Tsk. We hate mythics, but you ain’t a mythic.”
Parker interjects, “So what does your little flame do?”
I feel my mood darken. “Nothing good.”
He accepts that with a nod, then looks at Leisel. “Never would’ve guessed you were a healer. I suppose I should’ve since your little rat has lived so long.”
Leisel wrinkles her nose in an adorable gesture. “He’s a chipmunk.”
Parker waves a hand at that. “Same difference.”
I glance over Parker’s shoulder to where the shifters are gathered. Camden looks absolutely furious and appears to be scolding Aspen. Her eyes are downturned and her cheeks are red with embarrassment. Wyatt looks as angry as Camden, pacing back and forth. The rest of the shifters look simultaneously shocked, impressed, and pissed.
I take Leisel’s hand in mine, sensing her anxiety as she watches the shifters alongside me. “Let’s go home,” I say, brushing my free hand through her hair.
For the moment, we’re both free of the Rockwell Pack, though the future is still uncertain.
Chapter Seven
Although I’m bone tired, I don’t rest when I get home. I can’t afford to let my guard down while the Rockwell Pack is still near. I warm up leftover stew for myself and Leisel, since neither of us ate breakfast, and go over a math lesson with her while we eat.
I won’t allow shifters to upend our day-to-day lives—both of us will go about business as usual.
For an unusual change of pace, Chip spends the meal on my shoulder. He’s always been as comfortable with me as he is with Leisel and never seems to mind when I hold or pet him. I think he recognizes me as her provider and protector, and that formed an accord between us, even though he’s relatively antisocial with most others. That is, unless they’re offering him food. Maybe, similarly to how he curled up against Leisel’s neck last night, perceiving her need for comfort, he’s now perceiving my need for comfort, and responding accordingly.
I feed him bites of the bread I bought from Mariketa yesterday, as well as a few pieces of lettuce I harvested from the farm earlier in the week. He accepts all the offerings contentedly, grooming himself in between stuffing his little cheeks.
Leisel watches me with a penetrating gaze throughout our meal. She’s always been intuitive—alarmingly so—and easily senses how wound-up I am.
As I’m washing our dishes, Chip having departed to his normal perch on Leisel’s shoulder, she says, “You’re my hero, Sierra.”
That stops me short, and the bowl I’m washing clatters into the sink. I turn to face her, feeling my heart swell in my chest. “What do you mean, sweet girl?”
She lifts one shoulder. “We’ve been going over archetypes in English. A hero always overcomes impossible odds and comes out on top. A hero protects everyone around them at all costs. A hero is noble, caring, and courageous. You’re all of those things.
“I saw how much you were hurt in the fight, but you kept pushing through, and ended up beating a shifter. Ashifterwho’s way stronger and faster than you.” Her voice quiets. “And I know you didn’t beat her for yourself. You beat her for me.”
Gods, for a nine-year-old, Leisel has a remarkably advanced mind and vocabulary. She’s mature far beyond her years. It probably comes from the rigorous studies I put her through as well as her love for reading classics.
I say the only thing I can think of, meeting her honesty with some of my own. “You have no idea what that means to me, Leisel. No idea how muchyoumean to me. If not for you—” My voice cuts off with a crack, and I inhale a deep breath to steady myself before continuing. “If not for you, I’d be a different person. I’d never have learned to be a hero. You came to me in the darkest time in my life and brought beautiful sunlight to overshadow the endless haze I lived in.”
Her eyes well with tears again as she runs up to me and hugs me tightly. “I love you,” she says, her voice wobbly.
I kneel to hug her back, resting my chin on her shoulder. “I love you too, sweet girl. I’ll always protect you. Always.” After a moment, I say, “Thank you for healing me earlier. I doubt I’d be awake if you hadn’t.”
“I’ll always protect you too,” she murmurs.
I let go of her and walk over to the window in front of the kitchen sink—the view outside concealed by the drawn curtain. All the curtains around my cabin have been drawn since the Rockwell Pack came banging on my door last night; I don’t want them to have any peeks into my life. Not even through the windows.
