The Story of the Trees - Sword, Ring, and Crown Book One

Chapter Seven

I felt a gentle shaking that slowly nudged me out of the twilight haze that follows a knockout. My eyelids fluttered open, and the first thing I saw was a pair of aquamarine eyes staring down at me. There were bursts of golden stars around each pupil, and for a second, I was lost in them. Then a throb of pain hit my skull, reminding me that all was not right.

I winced and let my gaze drop to his mouth. His lips were set in a faint smile, the bottom lip fuller than the top. Pale hair framed his face, resting against sharp cheekbones. As awareness returned, I tensed, suddenly hyper-aware that my head was pillowed in the crook of his arm.

With a jolt, I scrambled back, rolling off and landing on the carpeted floor with a thud. I shot up my fists, my instincts kicking in as I slid backward, creating as much space between us as possible. Panic built in my chest as I took in my surroundings: I was on an airplane. A small window beside the stranger revealed a sea of blue sky, and the hum of engines confirmed it. I checked my side. Healed. No sign of the injury.

Relief hit like a wave, but my mind leapt to my friends. "Adrian!" I gasped.

"Alive," said the man with the aquamarine eyes, his voice calm.

"Alive?" Tension melted slightly from my shoulders. I'd been sure that after that glass-shattering hit, Adrian wouldn't make it.

"Yes, Enan is a minor healer. Keenan used his power over air to help. He's stable." The man said it with a casual calmness that grated on me.

I held my tongue, though every muscle in my body felt coiled and ready to fight. Adrian wouldn't have needed rescuing if it hadn't been for this crew.

Pushing myself up onto the couch that lined the plane's wall, I glanced around, taking in the soft beige leather, recessed lights, and the four captain's chairs facing the couch. Two of those chairs were occupied by the twin goons who had attacked me earlier, still showing the bruises from my escape attempts. I almost smiled. I'd left my mark on them, at least.

I focused on one of the twins—Tweedle Dee, I decided—who was glaring at me with amber eyes, thick brows drawn together in an unmistakable warning. I forced myself to return his glare, trying to maintain my defiance even if I was cornered.

Finally, I turned back to the man with the aquamarine eyes, recognition crashing through the pain and haze clouding my mind. My heart pounded, and I clenched my fists. 

Erick.

"Erick!" I launched myself at him, fists flying, teeth bared. "You traitor!"

Erick caught my wrists with one hand, twisting my arms behind my back with an almost practiced ease. "Madeline, calm down," he said, his tone steady.

"I'll never calm down, you pig!" I growled, twisting, but he held me steady. "How dare you hold me in your arms after what you did! I hate you!"

His jaw clenched, face tense. "If you keep struggling, I'll zip-tie you to that chair. I'm not risking an accident midair."

I glared, the threat of zip ties enough to get me to stop—for now. Seeing I'd surrendered, Erick released me, and I backed away, still seething. He reached into a nearby mini-fridge and pulled out a can of ginger ale, offering it to me. I slapped it away, watching as it rolled and hit the base of one of the twins' chairs.

The twin who'd been hit—Tweedle Dum, I decided—shot to his feet, eyes flashing with rage.

"Sit down," Erick commanded coldly, and Tweedle Dum sank back, muttering curses under his breath.

Erick reached into his jacket and pulled out a hypodermic needle, giving me a pointed look. "I don't want to sedate you, but I will if I have to."

I wrapped my arms around myself, unwillingly understanding the warning. No more outbursts. Not if it meant I'd be drugged again. As I settled back, my fingers brushed my hair—long now, cascading down my shoulders. Someone had clipped it up. I yanked the clip out, ready to throw it, but stopped when I saw it was shaped like a hummingbird, encrusted with emeralds and amethysts.