Basically, anyone who had fangs and drank blood.
But as far as Raidh knew, shifters didn’t drink blood. They drew it from their enemies in a battle, but they didn’t consume it. With the way Raidh’s world was flipping upside down, he wouldn’t be shocked if they did.
With a sigh, he opened the door to the crypt. Jaytee sniffed the air, and then his eyes narrowed as he glared at Raidh’s arm.
“I have not had the best day,” Raidh snapped. “I don’t need a lecture about using my own blood for the spell, and I don’t want to deal with you or your brothers concerning the smell of my blood.”
A low rumbling growl filled Jaytee’s chest.
Raidh levered a finger at his mate, noticing how Jaytee’s nose twitched. “Keep growling at me and I’ll turn you into a fur coat.” He shoved past Jaytee, sucking in fresh air and trying to clear his thoughts.
“Thanks for loaning me the creepiest place imaginable,” Raidh said to Kalen. “I left it just as immaculate as I found it.”
“What is your problem?” Jaytee snarled from behind him. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my dad that way. He just gave you the perfect place to cast your spell, and you’re being ungrateful.”
“Son.” Kalen held up a hand, palm out. “Clearly something happened in the crypt. Why don’t you talk to your mate instead of biting his head off?”
As angry as Raidh was with Galamir, he was twice as afraid. But just because he was alarmed didn’t mean he had to take it out on everyone.
“Kalen, I’m very sorry for being rude.” Raidh pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He wanted to kick that whispering threat out of his mind.
It was a completely disturbing thought to know your own father wanted you dead. Yet, here stood Kalen Frost, a father, stranger to him, ready to help him, even though he had no idea what was even going on.
“I’m sorry.” Jaytee ran a thick hand through his hair. “Do fairies heal on their own, or do we need to take care of your cut?”
“Fae.” Raidh rolled his eyes. “I need to wrap my arm.”
Jaytee just grabbed Raidh’s hand and started hauling him toward the house. “You should have told me you were going to use your blood for the spell.”
“Why?” Raidh asked. “How would that have changed anything? The concealment spell still needed to be cast.”
They didn’t stop until they were in Jaytee’s bedroom and the door was closed. Then his mate turned to him. “Because I hate seeing you bleed.” He grabbed a first aid kit and brought it to the bed. “Sit.”
“Should I roll over and play fetch too?” Raidh snapped. “You could command me around a little more nicely. Or better yet, ask instead of telling me what to do.”
“Please, have a seat, Moonbeam.” Jaytee waved a hand at the bed. “I want to get that cut taken care of.”
Raidh sat and held out his trembling arm, fighting back tears. Jaytee knelt his massive frame in front of him, cradling Raidh’s arm gently in his hands like he was holding something precious.
“Did you have to make the cut so deep, Moonbeam?” Jaytee gazed up at him with worry in his beautiful blue eyes, his fingers softly caressing Raidh’s arm.
Raidh’s breath caught. “Sometimes a fae is so focused on a spell that everything else becomes insignificant.”
Jaytee slid his fingers close to the wound. “Hurting yourself isn’t insignificant, sweetheart.”
As his mate cleaned and bandaged the cut, Raidh watched, his thoughts on the threat, on Jaytee and his family getting caught in the middle of it, wondering how he would survive his father’s attack.
Elvine needed to be warned. Raidh had to tell her to stay away from his family. His best friend would continue to snoop, unknowingly putting herself in danger.
“My phone!” Raidh smacked his forehead. “I left it at Bluebird Café.” When he’d run away from his mate. “I have to get it. I have to warn Elvine.”
“Your attack kitten?” Jaytee smirked as he finished bandaging Raidh’s arm. He stayed on his knees as he arched his eyebrow. “Warn her about what? You still haven’t told me what’s going on, Moonbeam. If my family’s in danger, we have a right to know what we’re up against.”
“My father.”
Jaytee looked at Raidh, waiting for him to finish the sentence.
With an aggravated snarl, Raidh stood, only to realize his crotch was right in his mate’s face. Stepping aside, he crossed his arms, careful of his wound, and paced in a tight circle. “For a thousand years, my father, Galamir, and I have been clashing.”