Revealed Read online

  Poppy: Revealed

  by Riana Lucas

  Published by Clean Reads

  www.cleanreads.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  POPPY: REVEALED

  Copyright © 2015 RIANA LUCAS

  ISBN 978-1-62135-472-7

  Cover Art Designed by CORA GRAPHICS

  This book is dedicated to all of our fans who continue to show their support by reading our books! Thanks!

  Chapter One

  “Release me at once!” I demand in a voice that would usually be met with immediate compliance. Except it is my mother I am speaking too, and she instead shakes her head disapprovingly before turning away.

  I storm over to the wall — or whatever is trapping me here — and look out at my people and my friends preparing to battle for their lives, a battle that I should be a part of. My fists lift, and I beat on the wall, yelling my demands with the expectation of being obeyed but when no one grants my wishes, I let out a scream that would make anyone cringe. In fact, the two guards posted on either side of the painting do just that. I cannot help myself. To see a deadly battle taking place right before my eyes and do nothing to assist those I care for and love, is making me feel like a child.

  A helpless child.

  I toss a vicious look at each one of the guards, but they are not even looking at me, purposefully averting their eyes from the situation. There is nothing they can do, and I know this. They are only following the orders of my mother, Queen Lily of the Seelie Court. If I were not the princess, I would be out there fighting. I would be acting as a true Warrior Fae should, protecting my friends, my Court. I would be out there along with Reed, Willow, Gideon, Thorne, and even Holly, making sure Damien does not succeed in killing any more of my friends or taking over the Seelie Court. Just because Rho inadvertently made it easy for him to take over the Unseelie Court by killing the king, does not mean it is going to be easy for him to take over my Court.

  Instead I am trapped in this horrid painting, dressed in a frilly gown and protected like a fragile doll. On top of it all, there is nothing I can do. I have tried for the last few minutes, since I was swept away by my mother for my protection. First I tried reasoning — that was met with deaf ears. Then I tried to break the magic on the painting myself. I remembered everything Rho taught me and put everything I had into it, and still nothing. The painting is enchanted by some of the strongest magic I have ever encountered. It seems unbreakable, and it drives me completely crazy. Now my only option is screaming like a small child until I get my way.

  I let out another shriek and look out into the throne room once more, searching for Damien, but he is not there. After our eyes met for that brief moment, the Seelie warriors stormed through the door to the throne room and were able to push the Unseelie out and bar the doors. I knew the barred doors would not hold them back for long. It would only allow the warriors time to prepare for just a moment, hopefully allowing them just enough time to get the innocent out and as far from the battle as possible.

  The fact that almost the entire Court had gathered in the throne room for the coronation was both a blessing and a disadvantage. Outside of this room the Seelie Fae would have been scarce, hopefully resulting in less injured or dead, but it also provided no warning. If the guards would have all been at their usual posts, Damien and his army would have been stopped much earlier, and the battle would be taking place away from all of the innocent. Now there is no choice but to try to keep them back and protected. I should be helping to do this.

  A loud crack draws my attention to the barred doors. The Unseelie are in the process of trying to break them down and are succeeding. As the doors groan from the force, a fracture forms in the thick wood. It is only a matter of minutes before they will be down and the Unseelie will be within the throne room. The battle will begin with me trapped in this painting. I let out another scream and turn to face my mother once again, barely controlling the urge to stomp my foot.

  “I know that you are trying to protect me because you love me, but this is killing me. Standing here and watching as the others fight to protect us is not who I am. I am a warrior first, and I have to fight. I have to be out there protecting my people.” My voice has gone from outrage and anger to pleading. I do not like it, but I cannot help it. Everything inside of me is telling me to fight, and my inability to do so is tearing me apart.

  My mother looks at me for a long moment. Her eyes are sad as she studies me, and there is pleading in them as well. She is scared for me because she has lost me once and does not wish to lose me again, but she also knows what and who I am.

  “I love you, Mother, and I understand. But you have to understand me, too. You have to let me be who I am. I am happy to be Princess of the Seelie Court. I am happy to be your daughter. But I am also a warrior, and you have to let me be that as well. Without that I am nothing.”

  “Oh, Poppy, that is not true. You are so much more than a warrior. One day you will lead this Court as queen. I am getting much older, and you are the only heir. What if something happens to you? What will happen to the Court?”

  “I understand, but what will happen if I do not fight? What will happen if I do not lead my people and make sure they win this battle and all the others that are to come? I am good at what I do, and I will be much more useful out there.” I lift my hand to point out into the throne room. “Fighting and leading them. Instead I am in here hiding.”

  Her back stiffens, and I know she thinks I am insulting her, so I quickly stop her from speaking. “You know what I mean, so do not try that. If I did not have the proper training, I would not be arguing with you about this. But I have, and I am one of the best at what I do. I need to be out there, leading my warriors. If something happens to one of them, I will not be able to live with myself. I have to help protect them.” A quick image of Rho’s smiling face flashes before my eyes. If I lose someone else close to me, it will kill me this time.

  My mother does not miss the telling look and the slight tremor in my voice. She knows where my thoughts have travelled. As much as she wants to protect me, she understands what it is that I must do. She sighs, and her shoulders droop in defeat. I know that I have won, but there is no satisfaction in it for me. I do not wish to hurt my mother or to worry her, but I know that this is something that I must do. Damien came here because of me. He came here for me. I do not wish to back down from a fight, and my body is burning with the need to avenge Rho’s death. For Damien to have the nerve to even walk in here after what he did — it makes me furious. I did not mistake the glint in his eye before I was quickly whisked away, and he was barred from the room. I saw the bloodlust and the superior look in them. I also saw the hatred at me for the defeat he has already suffered once. He thinks it will be so easy now for him to storm in here and take over, now that the King of the Unseelie Court is dead and no longer playing his games. There is no one commanding him now, and he must think he is strong enough to take over the Seelie Court.

  I do not think so.

  This is my Court now, and I will protect my people.

  My fists clench at my sides, and I look up at my mother once again. Her sharp intake of breath and sudden widening of her eyes tell me that my feelings are more than clear on my face. My instincts are taking over, and my features are transforming. The Unseel
ie side of my heritage, the cruelness that I have gained from my father, is showing. My features sharpen, my eyes darken, and my smile is vicious and cruel. I do not look like a “pretty princess” any longer. I look like the warrior that I am.

  My mother closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I do not wish this for you. Can’t you see that?” Her final plea is weak and only halfhearted, but I understand her need to make it.

  “I know you wish to keep me out of harm’s way and that you fear losing me again. I do not wish to cause you this pain, but I must do this. I must fight with my friends and for my people, to do everything I can to protect them and help prevent the same awful death that Rho was dealt. I cannot face losing someone again, because of me.” She begins to protest, but I stop her with my raised palm. “I know what you are going to say, and it does not matter. I cannot help blaming myself for Rho’s death, and I will continue to do so for a while. It is still too fresh. I am trying, though. I promise. And Damien is here because of me. I cannot sit back here while he harms and possibly kills other Fae because of me. It is his fault Rho is dead and that Reed was held in that prison for so long. Damien is the reason I was taken from you, and I will have my revenge.” The tenderness that I had at the beginning of my speech has faded, and the white-hot fury is back. My breath is heavy, and my heart beats wildly. I try to take a deep breath to calm myself, but the time for that is over. My mother can see it as well.

  She rushes into the space that was separating us and takes me in her arms for a fierce hug. Her arms wrap so tightly around me that I struggle for breath, but I do not try to soften the embrace. I hug her just as tightly as I close my eyes and inhale deeply. The feel of her warm arms around me and the soft lavender smell that belongs only to her surround me as I take a second to acknowledge how lucky I am to have her and that I never want to lose her again. Finally, after what seems like an eternity but is only seconds, I pull away and she reluctantly does the same.

  She keeps her hands on my shoulders and holds me in place at arm’s length, looking deeply into my eyes. Eyes that are exactly like mine. “I love you, my child, with everything that I am. I do not like this, but I understand. You must do this, and I will support you, but if something happens to you…” She begins to choke up and has to stop to collect her thoughts. “If something happens to you, I will be so angry with you. Do you understand me?” She follows her question with a small shake of my shoulders.

  I cannot help but to smile at her attempt to scold me like a proper mother would. “Yes, Mother,” I attempt in a tone like I have heard from other teenage girls who are irritated with their mothers, but she only smiles. I hug her quickly once again before pulling away from her.

  Taking a deep breath, I look down at my attire and look back up to her again. “Now can we please do something about this gown? How am I going to kill Damien dressed like this?”

  Chapter Two

  My mother’s solution to my attire problem is shocking. She walks up to me, grabs the hem of my dress, and begins to rip it. I gasp in surprise as I jump back from her quick movements.

  Standing up, she looks at me in exasperation. “Well are you going to let me fix it or not? It’s not like we can run to your quarters real quick and have a wardrobe change.” She gazes at me with narrowed eyes before asking, “I assume you have your daggers strapped to you somewhere under there, don’t you?”

  I raise my eyebrows at her question, because she already knows the answer. There have only been a handful of times that I have ever been without at least one of my daggers. That will never happen again. I do not feel complete without them.

  “That’s what I thought. So are you going to let me fix that dress or not? I admit it is such a travesty to do this to such a beautiful dress, but you are right that you cannot fight like this.”

  “What exactly are you planning to do with my dress? I do not think ripping it into pieces is going to solve anything.” I am utterly confused by what she is trying to do. She sees my ignorance because she shakes her head at me.

  “You are so smart and strong, but you are definitely lacking in creativity.”

  “Hey! That is not true,” I pause, trying to think of something creative to say but the only thing that comes to mind is “and it is not very nice either.” I scowl at her, surprised a bit by her statement.

  She shakes her head and takes a step toward me once again. “May I show you what I am trying to accomplish?”

  “Umm…okay.” I still do not know what she intends to do, but there is no time for more discussion. I must let her do what she needs to so that I can join my friends and fellow warriors.

  My mother kneels down before me, taking the hem of my dress in her hands once again before she glances up at me. I raise my eyebrow at her, because I have no idea what she plans to accomplish. Any other time, I might find this whole situation amusing, but not today.

  She tugs hard with her hands, ripping my dress all the way up to my knee. I gasp again. Dressing up and all of the other nonsense that goes with it may not have been my thing, as Reed would say, but even I can admit that this dress was very beautiful, and I may have liked to wear it on another occasion.

  A small sigh escapes my lips, knowing that is not going to happen.

  Instead of dwelling on that, I focus on what my mother is doing. Once she reaches my knees, she begins to rip the dress around my legs. Now she has reached the other side, and with another sharp tug, she rips the extra material from the dress. She waves her fingers at me in a silent command to turn around. When I face her again, she gives an approving nod and rises to stand before me.

  “Well it may not be the most beautiful dress now, but you will be able to move quickly in it. Please keep in mind that you are still wearing a dress, my darling.”

  I roll my eyes at her, unable to stop myself. What does she expect me to do — ask my opponent to please take it easy on me because I am in a dress? She must be able to read my thoughts, because she smiles and shakes her head.

  “I know that I am asking a lot, but it just would not do for the Princess of the Seelie Court to allow everyone to see…well to catch a glimpse...” She blows out a frustrated breath and waves her hand up and down to indicate my entire body. “Just remember that you are still a princess. I know that it will be hard, but do try. Please?”

  “Yes, Mother.” I pull her into one last hug before stepping back. Too much time has already passed. The banging on the throne room door has become louder, and the groaning and cracking indicates that any second, the doors will give way and the room will be breached. I wish to be there when this happens so that I can meet Damien head-on.

  I reach under my dress for my daggers, strapped securely to my thighs. Feeling their energy course through me makes me feel stronger. My fingers grip the handles tightly and my eyes scan the blades to ensure their sharpness. This is unnecessary because I sharpen them daily, but it is a habit that I do not wish to break. An unprepared warrior is a dead warrior.

  I look up at my mother and nod to let her know that I am ready. She gives me one last pleading look, but it is met by the steel and determination of my own eyes. There is no more time; I must go.

  “I love you, Poppy. Please be careful.”

  My stomach flutters, and my heart skips a beat at the statement. It still catches me off guard to have such strong emotions directed toward me.

  “I love you too, Mother. I will see you soon.” I smile reassuringly at her, and then my smile morphs into one of anticipation as I feel the magic around me begin to stir.

  I feel my mother working her magic as the barrier between me and the rest of the throne room begins to weaken. The guards on either side of the entrance ready themselves for a fight, but I quickly shake my head at them.

  “I know you wish to be out there as much as I do, but you must stay and protect my mother. You must protect your queen if anyone breaks that barrier.” I know they are disappointed, but they do not let it show. They each nod once at me and then fix the
ir eyes on the dissipating invisible barrier.

  I stand as close to the wall as I can. As soon as I feel the barrier fade away, I jump through, yelling to my mother behind me, “Put the shield back up and stay safe. This will be over quickly.” I feel the feral smile reach my lips as I turn my focus back to the throne room. My gaze lands on the massive doors just as they come crashing down.

  ****

  The grip on my daggers tightens as I jump down from the dais onto the ground, intending to throw myself into the fight. However, as I land hard, I am horribly reminded that I am wearing shoes that are not ideal for fighting. My ankle tries to twist, my body wobbling as if I was walking on stilts, but I am able to control it, just barely keeping from hurting myself. How wonderful would that look if I fell flat on my face because of a stupid pair of shoes? I glare at the offending objects as I quickly kick them off, allowing my bare feet to touch the cool, marble floor. Before I can take another breath, I am surrounded by my friends. I glance at each of them, reading their thoughts by the expressions on their faces. They are ready for orders.

  First things first, though. “Is Willow safe?” I look at Gideon for the answer, knowing that he would have been the one to take care of her. There has not been any change between them, but I can see what they cannot. Gideon nods, his face betraying a flash of concern, but it is quickly replaced with determination. “Good. Now, time to get down to business. Gideon, you take the right side of the room and make your way to the doors. Thorne, you take the left and do the same. Reed and Holly, I want both of you flanking me as we take the middle. I have every intention of facing Damien head-on, but it will not hurt if you two sneak up on the side and come around behind him.” I shoot Gideon and Thorne a sly look that is mirrored by them both. Then I turn to look at Holly, who gives me a curt nod, all business and ready to go. When I meet Reed’s gaze, I see concern, but I also see anger. He wants Damien’s blood as much as I do. That sharp stab of remembrance in my stomach is there for a brief moment, but I push it away. We are all after the same thing right now, and that is all that matters. Damien and the other Unseelie Fae have made a terrible mistake coming here today.