He prowled away from the warlock with her, fussing over her as she petted him, her fingers brushing through his hair to make the blue-black lengths of it even wilder and then teasing the pointed tips of his ears.
Archer remained flat on his back, his eyes wide and lips parting as he stared at the canopy of the trees. Fenix went to him and offered his hand, and the male eyed it with suspicion before he took it. Fenix didn’t hold it against him. There had been a time he would have gladly re-enacted Vail’s attack on him to bloody his face a little more after all.
He pulled the warlock up onto his feet and released him as Evelyn came to him, and did his best to dial back the urge to pull her away from him as she took a look at his split lip with a worried edge to her golden eyes. Those eyes widened a little when the cuts on his face healed and the blood disappeared.
Archer slid a black look at Vail, who was busy petting Rosalind’s hair now, smoothing the golden lengths with his fingers as he held her to him. “There’s something seriously wrong with him.”
Rosalind scowled over Vail’s shoulder at Archer. “Pot, kettle.”
Archer huffed and dusted down his coat. He gave Evelyn a look that told her not to fuss, and strode away from them, stopping a few feet down the incline. He gazed in the direction of the stronghold.
“I count several servants and three mages. Three mages means—”
“We could be facing sixty enemies if they’re at full strength and can make enough clones.” Rosalind cut him off as Vail set her back on her feet.
Archer clenched his fists. Evelyn went to him and ran her hand down his arm. His dark eyes slid to her and something passed between them, the look she gave him enough to have the tension bracketing his mouth fading and his shoulders easing lower. A weaker male than Fenix might have been irritated by how close they were.
Fenix wasn’t.
He really wasn’t.
He did his best to let the familiarity between his mate and the warlock not bother him as he joined them and stared at the high walls of the stronghold, focusing on mentally preparing himself for the coming fight.
“Sixty sounds like a lot.” Evelyn looked from him to the others and he knew what she was thinking.
He didn’t like the odds either, but he had fought mages in the past and knew their tricks, and their side was strong.
“We can do this,” Rosalind said as she came up beside him, forming a line with him, Evelyn and Archer. Vail joined her, and Hartt and Mackenzie did too. She looked along the line. “We can handle sixty. We handled more and a lot worse odds last time. I’ll put together a spell that will protect us from the worst of the mages abilities.”
“I already have one in place. Hella did it for me.” Fenix had learned quickly that mages liked to freeze their opponents in place, making it easier for the clones to kill them, and had taken precautions against it.
“I’ll put something together for everyone else then. Shouldn’t take long.” Rosalind looked at everyone. “Just take a moment to prepare while I work on it.”
Fenix nodded at the same time as Vail, and took hold of Evelyn’s hand, squeezing it lightly. He tugged Evelyn with him, needing more than just a moment to ready himself for a fight. He needed a moment alone with her.
She followed him up the incline, deeper into the trees, and gasped when he twisted with her and pinned her to the broad trunk of a pine. He swallowed that gasp as he claimed her mouth, savoured the way it turned into a moan as she looped her arms around his neck and opened for him. Her tongue brushed his, sending a thrill down his spine, and he groaned as he deepened the kiss.
He told himself that everything would be fine, that nothing bad would happen to either of them, but it was hard to convince himself of it and drown out the voice of his fears as he clung to Evelyn.
She pulled back and smiled up at him, her golden gaze a little dazed. “What was that for? Needed a top-up?”
He shook his head, because he hadn’t taken a single drop of energy from her, would never risk her like that. She needed all the strength she had.
“I… I just needed to kiss you.” As those words left his lips, her look softened and understanding dawned in her eyes followed by a look that told him that he wasn’t alone.
She lured him down for another kiss, this one softer and slower, a kiss that warmed him right down to his soul and gave him comfort, because it told him how deeply she loved him and offered the reassurance he badly needed.
“Um. Guys.” Rosalind’s voice rang out in the darkness. “Archer’s gone rogue.”
“Shit,” Evelyn muttered, seized his hand and pulled him with her back to the group. Her fear ran into him through their bond as she reached Rosalind and looked out into the snowfield and saw the witch hadn’t been lying.
Archer was flying across the snow.
The damned warlock’s boots hovered a good foot above the surface of the powder, as if he was standing on thin air, but he was moving at the same time.
And he was moving at speed.
Evelyn broke away from him and began running.