Page 116 of Inflamed By an Incubus

Fenix braced himself as a frigid wind scoured the valley, churning the snow up into the air to reduce visibility. That same snow had covered the evidence of the fight that had taken place here not long ago, leaving only the scorched fringes of the pine forest behind to signal something had gone down. The trees further back from the valley floor were untouched, their branches heavy with snow, making them blend into the foothills of the mountain they covered.

Beside him, Evelyn huddled down into her thick black jacket that matched the one he wore, folding her arms across her chest, and worry arrowed through him as he saw how pale she was. He reached across and tugged her black scarf up so it covered the back of her neck and the lower half of her face, and she glanced at him, her golden eyes soft with surprise and a lot of affection. He could drown in those eyes and he would be happy.

“Get a room,” Rosalind muttered and he wanted to call her on the fact she was using her mate as a mobile radiator, her back plastered to Vail’s front as he stood with his arms wrapped around her and his back to the wind that blasted through the trees surrounding them.

Trees Fenix had expected to give them some shelter but offered zero protection from the bitter cold as night had slowly fallen and the temperatures had plummeted.

Vail gently rubbed Rosalind’s arms through her long thick coat that reached her knees, covering equally as hardy trousers. Even the elf had donned protective clothing too, although Fenix guessed that beneath the layers of waterproof material and fluffy goose down, the male was probably wearing his armour.

Hartt lowered the binoculars from his eyes and looked across at his mate, wearing the same look of concern as Fenix had been for the last thirty minutes they had been standing in the valley. He liked the thought of his mate going anywhere near a blood mage about as much as Hartt did, but like Hartt, he also knew that telling Evelyn to remain behind while they all went off to fight would end in an argument.

And possible castration.

He reassured himself by taking in their side, focusing on the two powerful elves and the two even more powerful magic users they had. He hated to admit it, but the fact Archer had come along was a comfort in a way. For all his faults, and the things he had wanted to do, Archer obviously cared about Evelyn. If the male wanted to make up for everything by sacrificing himself to protect her if things got dicey, Fenix wouldn’t complain. Not that he was hoping the warlock would meet his end.

Much.

“So, now that it’s nice and dark so they won’t see us coming,” Rosalind started, her voice loud in the heavy silence, and everyone looked at her, “I have a cunning plan.”

She hit everyone with an expectant smile.

It fell off her face when Archer said, “Why are you quoting Black Adder?”

She pouted at him, her fair eyebrows knitting hard as a disgruntled look entered her eyes. “How do you know—never mind. You’re no fun.”

Because Archer had understood her cultural reference and she had expected the whole group to be confused and miss her joke.

“I’m going to put him in the comfy chair one of these days,” she muttered to her mate and slid Archer a black look.

Vail’s brow crinkled as his violet gaze shifted down to her. “But the armchair is your seat, Little Wild Rose. Why surrender it to such a vile male?”

She beamed up at him and it hit Fenix that this was the sort of response she had wanted to receive. She liked it when her jokes went unnoticed, her references slipping past people.

Archer opened his mouth, but Fenix shook his head, silently telling the male that he knew that she was quoting Monty Python now but to let her have her way. They needed Rosalind on their side.

The warlock huffed and reached into the pocket of his long black coat to pull out his smokes. The same long black coat he had been wearing back in Rosalind’s garden.

“Aren’t you cold?” Evelyn’s teeth chattered as she asked that and Fenix inched closer to her, moving to shield her from the wind as another blast swept up the slope to them.

“No.” Archer lit the cigarette and took a hard pull. “Basic shielding spell.”

“You didn’t think to share with the group?” Rosalind huffed and frowned at Vail. “See what we have to deal with. He could have made us all nice and warm, but nope… only thinks of himself.”

Archer’s dark eyes narrowed on her. “If you think you can harness the seventh plane of the eidolon to bend their matter around you and constantly keep it in check so it doesn’t flay the flesh from your bones and devour your soul, then I will be more than happy to tell you the incantation.”

Rosalind merely muttered something about him being a ‘show off’ in response to that.

“Let’s go. Before my balls fall off,” Hartt growled. “Someone is home at that stronghold. We should move closer to get the lay of the land and figure out what we are up against.”

The binoculars in his hand disappeared and he started down the slope with Mackenzie. Her flame-red hair fluttered from beneath her black woollen hat as she carefully navigated the trees, using their thick trunks to stop her from sliding all the way to the valley floor. Everyone had agreed to conserve their strength, reserving teleports and spellcasting for when they became absolutely necessary.

Like, in the thick of the upcoming fight.

Fenix took hold of Evelyn’s hand, their gloves making it impossible for him to thread their fingers together and denying him the comfort he needed as he thought about what lay ahead of them. They would make it through this. He told himself that on repeat as he helped her down the snowy incline.

Archer trailed behind them.

Rosalind and Vail brought up the rear, the petite witch still muttering about the warlock.

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