Page 154 of A Fate so Cruel

The male seated across from her had turned a shade greener. He eyed the twin pair of mugs between them. Saoirse took hers and sat back, sipping at the foam. His eyes watered, then he pushed his mug away and raised both hands in the air. “I submit.”

A chorus of applause went up and another male slapped Saoirse across the back. Coins were exchanged and bouts of laugher filled the tavern.

She only smirked. “I warned you.”

The male burped and she scooted her chair back, just in case the dozen and a half tankards didn’t stay down. “You’re not Fae,” he accused. “You’re some creature created by the gods to make us lose money.”

Saoirse lifted her mug. “To a fabled existence, then.”

More laughter echoed behind her, then conversations resumed. Saoirse tilted her head back, enjoying the pleasant warmth flooding her body. She’d probably had a little too much, given the fact that she had a meeting with Alec and the elders at sunrise. He’d scold her, but what was life without a little fun? Saoirse crossed her boots and sipped from her mug again.

A voice drifted toward her, too loud for him to be sober. “I hear The Demon is headed back this way. Shall we set something up?”

Saoirse tilted her head toward the male. “Leave it alone, Vaz.”

The male’s golden hair fell over his face as he sat back in his chair. “Come on, you can’t honestly still feel sorry for him.I understood when he was a kid, but after everything he’s done just this past decade alone?” The male shook his head.

Another chimed in. “I’ve lost count of the kills. That male is on an absolute rampage, and no one wants to do anything about it.”

“Watch your tone,” Saoirse warned.

The male snapped his mouth shut, but Vaz wasn’t done. “He’s coming back from one hell of an assignment. He’ll be tired. He won’t expect it.”

“He will,” Saoirse countered. Her voice lowered. “He always does.” And gods, her heart ached to even think about it. Sure, he’d secured their borders, but the cost had been astronomical.

“You could join us. He won’t expectyou.”

The buzz she’d been enjoying vanished entirely, eaten away by the adrenaline now coursing through her. Saoirse sat up slowly, set her mug on the table, then glared at her childhood friend. “Stay away from him.”

He didn’t back down. Vaz never did. Her second, Fin, intervened and clasped Vaz on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s not ruin the night already. I still need a few more drinks before you get us kicked out of yetanotherplace with halfway decent alcohol.”

They’d been thrown out of five in the past two years.

Vaz loosed a sigh and leaned back in his seat. “All right, all right, call for another round. Saoirse can pay for it.”

She didn’t drink another drop, her gaze locked on Vaz for the rest of the evening. He never gave up on something that easily. The barkeep supplied bread, and Saoirse used tomorrow’s meeting as an excuse to sober up.

She chewed her lip. She’d probably have to follow Vaz home, just to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. She couldn’t lose Rion, but she didn’t want to lose Vaz, either. She’dlost enough friends as it was. Friends and her little brother’s companionship. She’d give anything if he’d just talk to her again. Play a game of chess. Go for a walk. Anything.

***

Night had fallen long before Rion made it back to the city. The forest was quiet. Peaceful. A welcome home. Mostly.

He marched straight through the main gate, keeping a trained eye on those who hid within the treetops in both their animal and Fae forms.

Most didn’t challenge him anymore. Not after he’d felled their comrades. Likely brothers and sisters. They’d all thought they could win.

They’d all been wrong.

These days, his magic never left his side. He was a constant brewing storm, which made most avoid his company.

It was a . . . secluded life. Occasionally, he’d crave conversation. Occasionally, he’d show up to a tavern with his hood up and magic nowhere to be seen. But he never lingered. Not when he knew how those males and females would react upon discovering who sat amongst them.

The four Fae stationed to guard Nàdair’s gate reached for their weapons. He smirked when he scented their magic and quickly squashed the seedlings that were answering their call.

It drew the guards up short, forced them to back away as he strode toward the city he called home. Such a strange word to label a place where everyone wanted you dead.

The streets were quiet, most having already retired for the night. A few drunks stumbled from taverns, bidding their friends farewell. Others leaned against walls, where they’d likely wake in the morning. The weather was pleasant, at least. Winter’s chillwas still far off. The changing leaves bathed the forest floor in a mixture of oranges, yellows, and browns.

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