Free Warrior’s Redemption by Melissa Mayhue

answers right then and there before leaving her room.
    But no. She’d ignored her better instincts and allowed the lovely Elesyria to lead her downstairs where, she was assured, breakfast and answers would be served up.
    “Answer me, woman!” Malcolm demanded, emphasizing his displeasure by pounding his fist to the table.
    Dani jumped at the noise, only mildly reassured that she wasn’t the only one whose patience wore thin.
    Next to her, Elesyria smiled, first at him and then at Dani, before daintily placing a bite into her mouth. “Your cook does such a nice job seasoning this porridge.”
    Malcolm rose slowly to his feet, his weight braced on his arms as he leaned against the table, glaring at the woman next to Dani.
    He was even more impressive in broad daylight, fully clothed, than he had been last night. And that took some doing, because, for a fact, he’d been pretty impressive in the glow of the firelight, less than fully clothed. Much less.
    The memory brought an unwelcome heat to Dani’s cheeks and she fastened her eyes on the bowl in front of her. A bowl made from bread.
    “Cease yer games, Elf, and answer the question.”
    Dani turned her attention to the man seated at Malcolm’s side. He looked so much like Malcolm, she had little doubt that they were related. Elesyria, on the other hand, looked nothing like either of them, and yet they all seemed to know each other well enough, as if they were family. Well enough that that this one had used a nickname for her.
    What was it he’d called her? Elf?
    “Hold yer tongue, Patrick.” Malcolm didn’t bother to look at the man next to him, keeping his focus on Elesyria. “Why is it no possible for Danielle to go home?” Malcolm asked the question slowly, emphasizing each of the words, his voice laced with a dangerous edge.
    If he’d spoken to her in that manner, she’d be telling him everything she knew right now. If she had the answer, that is.
    Beside her, Elesyria made a sound, low in her throat, as much growl as sigh. Her gaze fixed on Patrick, she spoke directly to him, ignoring Malcolm as if he’d never spoken.
    “Had my ancestors remained under the dominionof your ancient gods, I might well be called Elf. As they did not, I would thank you to use the correct appellation for me. I am Faerie, Northman. Not Elf, Faerie. I’d thank you to get it straight.”
    Faerie?
    Dani’s already sensitive stomach lurched. Elf hadn’t been a nickname at all but an accusation of what she was.
    Faerie.
It couldn’t be true. Couldn’t be.
    She reached for the mug in front of her, squeezing her fingers tightly around the pottery as if to save herself from drowning.
    But if it were true, it would explain so much.
    Elesyria dusted her hands together and then wiped her fingertips on the cloth covering the table before turning her attention to Malcolm and his question.
    “Dani can’t go home because the Goddess sent her here for a purpose.” She lifted her mug, catching Dani’s gaze over the rim. “A boon granted cannot be rejected.”
    “A boon . . .”
    The whisper escaped from Dani’s lips without conscious thought. She’d always believed in her heart that the Faeries had some higher purpose for her. And the last thing she could remember before waking up here was standing in the little circle of stones she’d built, insisting that the Faerie Queen set her on the path to find that higher purpose.
    “Oh my God.”
    After all those of years of believing, of waiting for some sign, any sign at all, she finally had her proof. She’d been right. Faeries did exist. They were really, truly real.
    She hardly noticed she’d risen to her feet. Faeries were real and they had answered her at long last.
    “I was right all along. It’s all true, isn’t it?”
    “What purpose?” Malcolm demanded, his voice drowning out her whisper. “By whose request?”
    His words dissolved into an angry buzz that filled her ears even as the room around her darkened.
    Be careful