Page 106 of A Courage of the Chosen

Hurrying to my closet on silent feet, I dress quickly, selecting thick leggings and a simple green shirt. I throw on my leather armor, and grab a cloak that I sling around my shoulders before attaching Lumiathar to my hip.

When I tiptoe into the bedroom, Callahan is fast asleep, his arm crooked at an odd angle where I’ve slipped from his hold.

He doesn’t stir when I pull the door open and soft morning light spills into the mostly darkened room. A knot forms in my throat as I watch the steady rise and fall of his chest, full lower lip hanging open in his slumber.

The beautiful, fragile thing that was growing between us is now on a countdown. Because he knows there’s something going on, and it’s only a matter of time before the truth comes out and he walks away from me permanently. That’s if he doesn’t kill me first.

And with that thought, I turn away from him. The bedroom door closes with the faintest click, and I stride across the living area with only one destination in mind.

The stables are quiet. Only the guards on shift, and one or two Seelie tending to the horses loiter near the heavy wooden doors.

Mabel chuffs happily, and I offer her a sugar cube before saddling her up as quickly as I can manage.

My guards open the gates leading down the shores of Ederline as I approach, bowing low. “Good morning, Your Majesty.”

Everyone in the palace greets me this way now, and I was starting to get used to it, even if it’s made me immensely uncomfortable.

I give the soldiers a tight smile in reply.

I don’t deserve to be their queen. How the fuck can I rule when the very thing that has torn this world apart exists within me?

When they find out what’s crawling beneath my skin, they won’t accept me as their ruler. And they’re right not to.

Not worthy.

Not good enough.

I’ll bring shame to the Darrow name.

I’m just like Tavish.

Monster.

The thoughts pick up in time with the pelting of Mabel’s hooves on the stone path as I push her into a canter toward the forest.

The fall air bites into my cheeks and I welcome the sting.

I ride until my legs seize up. Until the sun has crested fully in the sky and my hands have gone numb against the wind.

Mabel, the magnificent creature she is, doesn’t waver. She powers through, stretching her legs until we reach the sandy shore that I’d once raced Tavish along.

I felt wild and free the last time we were here. A bright spot amongst a life of agony and loss.

Now it feels like the hands of fate are closing in a vice around my neck. Cutting off my ability to breathe and make sense of the chaos unfolding in my head.

I dismount Mabel and lead her to the lake, where she lowers her head and drinks deeply. The world begins to blur at the edges, and I lean my head into her flank.

“Breathe, Elsie. For fuck’s sake, breathe.” I curse myself, desperate for this agitation to loosen its hold.

Mabel huffs and angles to look at me. Her brown eyes are soulful, intelligent, and assessing. There’s no judgment there, and the longer I gaze into them, the steadier my heart becomes.

“What does it mean?” I ask her.

She shakes her head, and it’s almost as if I can hear her say ‘nothing’ in the action.

The sound that rends from my chest is a violent cry. And the walls I’ve built around myself for the last month come crashing down.

With only Mabel as my witness, I break, and give in to the fear and doubt that I’ve buried.