Page 63 of King of Storms and Feathers

I shoved the guard, and he flailed to the ground. My fae companions watched somber-faced from their horses, not uttering a single word between them.

“Let’s go,” I told them, leaping onto Yanar’s back.

Within minutes, we had bashed through the blacksmith’s door, finding Leaf in a cell at the rear of the shop, naked on the filthy floor, and the smithy kneeling above her with his cock in his hand and pants around his ankles.

“Gorbinvar,” I ground out, keeping my tone neutral as Raiden and I marched through the barred door of the makeshift cage he’d foolishly left open. I didn’t want him to crush her skull in panic, and considering who he was, I had to play this carefully.

“What?” His bear-like head whipped around, the drool hanging from his tusks threatening to land on Leaf’s split lip.

While he was distracted, she released a banshee’s cry and punched his snout.

“You bitch! I’ll gouge your witch’s eyes out, then fuck the empty sockets until there’s nothin’ left of your skull.”

“Do that, and my spirit will rub cayenne pepper on your prick for all eternity,” she snarled, ever the foolish provoker, who as yet, hadn’t even glanced in my direction.

The self-proclaimed Rust King was from the Sun Realm and skilled with flame and metal. But from our past exchanges, I knew his mind was dull with dreams of power and riches… and looking at the state of his cock right now, lust for my human. If he possessed any other talents, thinking wasn’t one of them.

The smithy grabbed a fistful of Leaf’s hair and thumped her head against the stone floor.

“Gorbinvar. Look at me,” I growled.

The bristles around his tusks vibrated as orange eyes met mine. I held my finger to my lips, bidding the human to be silent, shocked when she actually obeyed.

“King,” he said, unflinching.

“What right do you have to imprison this girl? To hurt her?”

“The same right I have to do anything in this city. Like a ship rat, this one scurried past my warehouse. My men brought her straight to me.”

“A mistake. Because now you have your puny cock on my property.”

“She’s yours?” Fear twitched over his face. “How so?”

“The stamp of my house is on the bottom left of her collar. See for yourself. She is mine, no one else’s, and you, blacksmith, have made a grievous error.”

Beneath a sweaty kerchief, his throat bobbed as he ran a dirty fingernail over my mark on Leaf’s collar.

“Enough,” I snarled. “Get your hands off her before I break them.”

He pushed his weight off her, stumbling backward, his arms raised to protect his ugly face.

The room shook. Thunder crashed over the roof, storm power gathering in my chest as it sizzled silver, then blue, circling my neck, arms, and wrists, the strength of the current wild, almost ungovernable.

Like her. Like Leaf.

“King Arrowyn. Wait… How was I to know she was yours? You cannot blame me for…” His words trailed away, the smell of piss assaulting my nose.

I smiled. No one moved. Not Leaf or a guard. Not even Raiden. And especially not the terror-stricken smithy.

At chest level, I pressed my hands forward, and lightning forked from my palms, burning the fingers off Gorbinvar’s right hand. Another strike hit the top of his barrel chest, just far enough away from his heart and lungs to keep him alive.

He was a fire fae, and I couldn’t afford to kill him. As much as I longed to char the flesh from his bones, then spear his troll head on the city gates, Coridon’s treaty with the Fire King prevented me from satisfying my rage.

First, Gorbinvar’s knees hit the ground, then his face, his whole body shuddering like a partially squashed bug. Finally, he rolled over, vomited blood, then pointed one of his remaining thick fingers at me. “Arrowyn Ramiel, on my father’s tusks, you will burn in the Hell Realms for all eternity.”

I laughed. “Curse me a thousand times if it pleases you, smith, but you know well I’m immune to your hexes. So, go ahead and do your worst.”

“Fuck your storm magic,” he said, spitting out a broken a tooth.

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