Page 93 of Settle Down, Princess

“It makes sense, brother,” I said to Creed between pants. “Less shifters on the ground—”

“That’s fewer enemies we have to face.”

He nodded as he threw himself forward, sliding across the soft earth to confront the scout, rearing up above the young shifter and forcing him to backpedal momentarily. Creed’s obvious advantage in terms of height and weight wouldn’t deter the other shifter for long, though. He roared his challenge, claws snicking out as he went to attack Creed. My brother ducked out of the way of one swipe, then another, but my eyes went to the rest of the young one’s pack, who were rapidly approaching. I shook out my hair, feeling the sweat trickling down my forehead and into my eyes.

Fuck…

Sweat always stung when it leaked into your eyes, but this carried with it a toxic load. The blasted oil that Jessalyn had smeared across our bodies had me burning, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of it hitting my eye sockets.

“Arrgh!”

My field of vision blurred then turned red as my eyes started to sting and water, my nerves screaming that something was very, very wrong. I jerked my hands up on instinct, ready to rub whatever the hell this was away, but then I realised halfway there that they would just make the situation so much worse. I was coated with the very substance that was causing this pain.

“Roan? Roan!”

“My fucking eyes!” I shouted, but to who, I didn’t know. I needed water, a cloth, some kind of bloody antidote. Something to make it stop. Every blink made the pain spread further, my world reduced to the ache in my eyes. The sounds around me came in a great muddle of flesh striking flesh, but whose? Right before Wren said the words.

“Terra pack is out! A healer is needed for the Bastard’s pack.”

A healer, gods be praised, yes, that.

“Are you alright, brother?” I felt Creed’s claws on my face, before they receded and became fingertips. “What happened?”

“Oil in the eyes.” Arik answered for me, just as I heard a more feminine voice.

“What kind of oil?” Mother Marian’s crisp tones cut through the noise. “What kind of oil?”

“Something that burns fiercely, like liniment,” I croaked out.

“Gods above, those girls…” I didn’t know what or how I was supposed to make the burning stop. Any view of the world I’d had was completely gone now, everything a blurry mess. But it hurt, and it hurt, and it hurt until her hands touched my face and heaven in a bottle was applied. “There you go.” I blinked, and suddenly that wasn’t agonising as Marian swam into view. She smiled as she stared up at me. “What possessed you to get liniment in your eyes?”

“It was in the massage oil Jessalyn applied,” Creed replied in a small voice.

“Is everything alright?” Elder Wren peered at me in concern. “You need not continue. Pulling out now will not impair your ability to court your mate. This is all just for show…”

But now that I could see, I caught the moment Silas waved his arms wildly in the distance. Others hadn’t seen it yet, but he jerked his head down to the front of his pants, where a suspicious bulge indicated he’d found other flags.

“No,” I said. “You have my thanks, Wren, Marian, but we Bastards don’t give up so easily.”

“Never back down,” Creed said with a slow nod.

“Don’t give a bloody inch.”

Arik grinned, right up until he saw the moment the other packs caught sight of Silas. One of our own was out there unprotected, and we were on the other side of the arena.

“Silas…” Creed growled.

“Fucking needs us, so let’s get across the field, double time!”

The prince’s bark was all it took to get us moving, stampeding over the ground as one.

Chapter 54

What were those idiots doing?

This was supposed to be fun. I was supposed to sit back and watch all the packs make fools of themselves, performing the little games men seemed obsessed by. In my mind, I saw Fern and I sipping on a nice glass of wine and making jokes at the men’s expense, but instead… I was sitting on the grass, leaning forward, following the movement of every pack as I saw bloody mayhem rage.

Wolf shifters leapt in the air, claws raking the space where another just was or other male’s skin, and each spray of blood drew a shout from the crowd. I watched the games and the audience’s reaction with concern. Why would males do such a thing? Why would they willingly go to war with others for the opportunity to spend time with a woman? At home, we were just told talk to him, dance with that ambassador, sit next to that lord. We had no choice in any of it, so I tried hard to understand what was happening.

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