Page 96 of Fire of the Fox

“Yesterday,” I answered, handing over the large tome.

He flipped through the pages, his eyes glittering with enthusiasm. He went to the index, then turned to a page near the middle. As his eyes scanned the page, the light in his eyes dimmed until he scowled. Scoffing, he slammed the book shut and handed it back to me.

“That’s a load of garbage.”

Curious, I opened the book to where he’d been reading and flipped through the pages until I got to a heading labeled, The Fox.

The text started:

Fox Fae are interesting creatures. With their superior intelligence and ability to move swiftly, they remain a fearsome group. That being said, the majority have unpleasant tempers, lashing out at a moment’s notice. They can best be described as conceited, temperamental, selfish tricksters, the reasons for which we shall discuss here.

Laughing behind my hand, I looked up at Rune. “I think he’s pretty spot on.”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the far wall. “Do you now?”

“I do, Mr. Hot-headed Fox. That passage isn’t why I brought this, though. I was skimming through it last night while you were out grocery shopping, and I read something that got me thinking.”

He pulled his hair back into a ponytail at the base of his neck and cocked a curious brow at me. “About what?”

“It talked about methods to defeat Fae. Battle strategies. After what happened with Jonah, I realized how weak I am when it comes to Fae. Since he’s still out there and I’m about to go on a trip with nothing but Fae, I want to learn those strategies so I can defend myself.”

He frowned. “Bria, nothing is going to happen. Not with Jonah or anyone else. I won’t let it.”

“You can’t be there 24/7, Rune. I need this for myself so that I can stand on my own.”

He rubbed a tired hand over his eyes and down his face. “Okay. I get it. But with Fae, there is no deflecting the situation and walking away. Fae will come at you again and again until either you’ve been dealt with or they have. What you’re asking means learning how to kill a Fae if necessary.”

My stomach dropped. That never even crossed my mind. Kumar’s writing had made suggestions on how to combat individual Fae, but it didn’t mention killing them. Perhaps the battle strategies were a means to an implied end. Death. I was just starting to tolerate the idea of fighting. To now consider the idea of killing someone …. But if it came down to my life or theirs, I wanted the arsenal to be able to make that choice. I couldn’t let things play out the way they had when Jonah attacked me.

Squaring my shoulders, I met Rune’s patient eyes. “I want to learn. Even if that means learning how to kill.”

He studied me, searching for my resolve, and after deeming it unwavering, he took a deep breath. “Okay. But let me go grab something first. Stretch and practice your stances. I won’t be long.”

It felt good to stretch my muscles and feel that familiar burning. It had been a while since we’d last trained, and I actually missed it. All the times I’d shared with Rune during training where we were both focused, sweating, and pushing each other’s limits was like breaking the surface when drowning. He was my reprieve from the crazy world outside.

The door to the private room swung open, and Rune stepped in, carrying something behind his back. I got to my feet from where I’d been doing sit-ups. Rune made no move to cross the room. He stood motionless by the door.

“Rune? What’s wrong?” I asked, starting for him.

Without a word, he pulled a long dagger from behind his back. My stomach dropped as he gripped the hilt tightly and brought the blade down, sinking it into his stomach.

“Rune!” I screamed, racing toward him.

He teetered then collapsed on his side. Panic set in when I crumbled next to him, and my hands shook as I reached for him. What the hell was he doing? Was stabbing himself some sort of training? I couldn’t seem to take a breath when I felt him trembling beneath my hands.

“Rune,” I cried. “What were—”

I froze when I caught a glimpse of his face. He was smiling. It was then I realized he wasn’t trembling from pain. He was laughing.

“What?” I asked breathlessly, stepping away.

He rolled over onto his back, laughing in a deep, rich rumble. He held up the dagger and stabbed his other hand for me to watch. The blade retreated into the hilt when he pressed it into his hand.

It was a freaking toy.

“You asshole!” I fumed, punching him hard in the leg. “You scared me!”

He sat up, still chuckling. Shaking his head, he said, “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. A joke presented itself, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

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