Page 57 of Fae Reckoning

Ryder chuckled in that sardonic way he did when he was about to rib West about something. I whipped my head in his direction, a ferocious glare at the ready. “Don’t.”

He plastered perfect innocence across his face, his eyes dancing eagerly behind the façade. “Don’t what?”

I scowled for good measure.

“Don’t approach my dragon,” Xeno was warning us, his stare already pinned on Ivar, who—fuck him—was actually examining Xeno’s body like it was a work of art, despite the threat he posed to him. “He’s not used to any of you, just Wyn. At this close quarters, give me a bit to wrangle him so he doesn’t attack any of you.”

“Should we just step outside?” Hiro asked.

“No. Once Ivar starts talking, you’re gonna need to be the ones to ask the questions.”

Xeno’s eyes began to vibrate. I hastened to join my brothers in lining up along the edge of the cabin. The dragon protector’s shoulder muscles rippled, then those of his arms, thighs, buttocks, his calves…

“Rush,” Elowyn yelled from outside. “Rush!” Her voice was panicked.

In a hot surge, my tattoos flared to lifealong every inch of my body. Already drawing Ivar’s cutlass and my dagger, I bounded through the hole in the wall, my heart pumping, finding her standing among the queen’s captive fae. I started toward her at a sprint.

“No. Bring Ivar! Now.”

My tattoos pulsing along with the thrum of my heart, I whirled back toward the cabin, smacked into Roan, and then followed Ry, Hiro, and Xeno—very naked, damn him—back into the cabin.

“Hurry,” El called.

Ry and I exchanged a look that said everything we needed to know. He and I lined up on either side of Ivar, beyond the range of the snapping snake heads, and lifted the chair from the bottom.

“I could lift it for ya,” Roan said as he ran alongside us.

“No time,” I mumbled as Ry and I turned sideways to step through the hole, then barreled toward Elowyn.

Her eyes stretched wide as she took in the serpents writhing from the bloody pit that was Ivar’s abdomen, but she recovered quickly, pointing to the edge of the clearing. “Set him down there so the, ah, snakes can’t get us.”

The very moment Ivar’s chair hit the ground, she snarled at him: “How do we keep them from dying?”

Ivar blinked at her.

Edsel, Larissa, and Pru huddled around a fae male who was thrashing and bucking on the ground, his entire body bouncing even while his eyes remained pinched closed. West clutched Ramana to his chest androcked her, blatant terror at losing her again stark across his face.

Elowyn’s eyes found mine. “Did he tell you?”

I frowned. “No. We haven’t gotten anything useful out of him yet.”

She rounded the chair to stand behind Ivar, beyond the vipers’ reach, wove her fingers in his hair, and yanked his head back to stare up at her. “Tell me how we disconnect the fae the queen’s been draining from her, or so help me I’ll make you.”

My tattoos throbbed so that their light was bright in the dappled sunlight of the afternoon. My mate was so beautifullyfierce, her teeth bared, her eyes fixed on their target.

Ivar said nothing.

She tugged on his hair until his eyes watered. “Tell me.”

He swallowed with a big bob of his throat. “I can’t.”

“I’ll ask the big, bad, black dragon over there to scorch you till you talk.”

“No need,” Xeno said, prowling closer. “I’ll do it.”

She glanced up at him, her brows jumping—at his nudity, I suspected—before rapidly lowering. “Good. Do it.”

Xeno began stepping away from the rest of us, presumably for the change, but then Edsel’s voice announced, “Don’t bother. It’s too late.” The goblin collapsed onto his backside. “He’s dead.”

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