Warrior of the Isles Read Online Free Page B

fail.
    She would retrieve her brother, and together they would rule the Isles.

Chapter 2
    No one could deny her the right to rule now, Syrena thought, shifting the weight of the golden blade as she strode along the well-worn path through the forest. There would be no humiliating tests, no aspersions cast against her strength or her abilities. She would be Queen of the Isles.
    A niggling of guilt slipped inside the bubble of her happiness that her life-long dream had come about as a result of her father’s death. She still had a hard time believing he had been murdered. Not that someone had wanted him dead—her father was a brutal dictator—but that they’d succeeded. She had come up with a long list of suspects, but her duty was to find Lachlan MacLeod, the brother she never knew existed. And until her quest was complete, the mystery of her father’s murder must wait to be solved.
    She shuddered at the thought her journey would take her to the Mortal realm. But no matter how difficult, she would find a way to complete the task her father had set out before her. Her father and the angels, she reminded herself, still uncertain why the heavenly beings had chosen to get involved.
    Standing at the base of the mountain, she looked up at the palace gleaming in the late afternoon sun, a shimmer of white light nestled among the highest peaks. Her gaze tracked the long, winding steps carved into granite. A steep and treacherous path to her home—one the Fae men used often to keep their powerful physiques battle-ready.
    Anxious to test her newfound strength, she began the trek up the mountain. Stunned by the strength in her limbs and her stamina, Syrena couldn’t help but wonder if her magick had improved as well. Deciding to find out, she widened her stance and prepared to transport herself. She closed her eyes and pictured her chambers as Evangeline had instructed a hundred times before, murmuring the appropriate words.
    Crash. Crack. Thud.
    â€œOuch.” She rubbed her bottom, and with a defeated sigh crawled from beneath the overgrown prickly bush just below the castle walls. It seemed not even the Sword of Nuada’s powerful magick had the force to overcome her disability.
    Wide-eyed, two of the royal guardsmen watched as she pulled a branch from her hair and straightened her crown. “Princess, is something amiss?” the younger of the two asked.
    â€œNo, of course not, just checking our defenses,” she informed them airily.
    The older guardsman, one well acquainted with Syrena, was about to laugh until he spied the Sword of Nuada. “Your highness.” He bowed low, his tone respectful, and the younger man followed suit. “Allow us to escort you, my lady.”
    â€œNo, thank you, I do not wish to take you from your duties.” She smiled, her disappointment over her failed magick subsiding somewhat at their show of respect.
    As she crossed the courtyard on her way to the palace, she heard Rainer’s voice raised in anger. “If I see you in my stables again, I’ll send you to the Fae of the Far North, where they eat children such as you for breakfast. Now, get out of my sight!”
    A small child in a mud brown robe was shoved through the door. The little girl tripped and fell to her knees before Syrena could reach her. Tear-filled blue eyes peered through a cloud of blond curls.
    She recognized the angelic face immediately. As the Fae did not conceive easily, the Isles were not overrun with children, so it was not a difficult task. And Syrena made it a point to know them all. “Aurora, are you hurt?”
    A tear slid down the little girl’s cheek and the anger simmering inside Syrena erupted. “Rainer, come here!”
    The door to the stable crashed open and he slammed out. “What do you—” Catching sight of her sword, he came to an abrupt halt. Color leeched from his long, angular face. “Your . . . your highness,” he