Page 23 of Secret Origins
I said surprisingly because the look on the Fae royal’s face would be enough to make a supernatural tuck tail and run. The runes were pulsing and glowing red on his face and neck, an invisible breeze swirling the hair around his head. This time his eyes, iris and pupil, glowed to bathe the General’s face in the light while casting shadows.
Fenrir looked magnificent.
“Fenrir!” I snapped louder, regretting it the same second when my head felt like it was about to explode.
My body was lifted off the ground, making me gasp and clutch Fenrir’s shoulders to stop the vertigo. I didn’t even see him move. If all these were perks from our sex session, I needed to talk to a manager. A refund was in order since I got none of it for myself. If I remembered it correctly—and I did; I really, really, did—I participated as much as he did.
“It’s my fault.” It was obvious I couldn’t talk without groaning or moaning. “I should’ve known the mage was already here. I didn’t think.”
“I will melt the skin off his bones and force him to eat it.” He was holding me a tad too tight, but I didn’t think it was the right time to tell him that.
“Aww, look at you going all caveman about little ‘ol me.” At last, he started glowering at me, so I attempted a smirk. When his pissed-off features shifted into concern, I decided to abandon trying, a sigh leaving my lips. “I need the mage alive … for now.”
As much as I was being delusional and pretending I was some rebel saving creatures left and right, I’d always been about self-preservation first. The General might have a soft spot for me, but he was aware of that little fact, too. Hence why he was always careful when we met. We could all play friends and allies as long as it never came between us. It might not be right, but I would never regret staying alive. My words calmed Fenrir down as well. I guess he knew me well, too.
“Put me down; I can walk.” Slapping his face none too gently and then pretending to pet him earned me another glare. At least he didn’t look worried anymore.
With Fenrir’s help, teetering precariously on my high heels and hanging on his arm, I walked up the porch for the second time, smiling at the General. “He is getting stronger.”
“He has enough time to practice being locked up here.” The gun didn’t lower, so I placed my hand on the barrel and pushed it down.
“Fenrir reacted however he reacted to protect me. You can’t possibly hold that against him.” There was still resistance on the gun, and I knew if I moved my hand it’d come up. “He also protected you tonight, General.”
“Not a hair goes missing on the mage,” he spat, but at least he put the gun away. Small victories. I also elbowed Fenrir to snap him out of it because his power was searing my skin.
The General stepped away, and I walked in the house passing the tilted front door hanging on the bottom hinge alone. There was a hole in the middle of it that I guessed Fenrir must’ve punched into it while I was too busy eating grass. Splinters of the wood were sprayed in the entrance as I gingerly stepped around them, discovering a spacious living room to my right. A male sat on a two-seat sofa with elbows braced on his knees while he held his head between his palms by fistfuls of hair. His face jerked up just as I entered.
“Myst.” The mage jumped to his feet and braced himself.
“What? You think I’ll attack you?” Snickering, I ignored the way he cautiously sidestepped around the sofa to place it between us and plopped on the closest armchair with a groan, closing my eyes. “Relax. My head is still swimming from your tantrum. I need to rest before I do anything else.”
Silence was my answer, so I forced one eye open to see him googly eyed and pale as a ghost staring at the front door. Rolling my head on the chair, I saw Fenrir looming there and blocking the General from coming inside. Males. It was all a dick measuring contest with them.
“Fenrir, either walk in or get out. We don’t have time for your shit.” Turning to the mage, I stabbed a finger at the sofa across from me. “You, sit.”
“What is your name?” Leave it to Fenrir to start with pleasantries even while he is pissed off.
“No names,” I snapped a little too harshly. The mage jumped and darted behind the sofa again.
“His name is Marius and he has been living in this city for the last fifteen years before he came across Myst.” The General knew I didn’t want to know names, so he’d given it on purpose. It was his way of giving the mage, I guessed Marius now, an additional layer of protection. I only knew a handful of names of the ones I’d killed.
“Well played.” I bared my teeth at him. His lips twitched in a barely-there smile.
“Myst might not kill those she knows by name.” Fenrir stepped next to my chair, folding his arms across his chest. “But I don’t have those issues.”
“Yes Fenrir, we know you are death incarnate, watch us all tremble in terror and wet our panties,” I drawled when an idea swiveled my head towards the General. “Do you wear panties, General?” His face paled before reddening, and I grinned so big my cheeks hurt. “I would’ve pegged you as commando but what do you know—”
“I thought you needed his help.” The human hitched a thumb at the mage. “I need to make a few phone calls, so I’ll leave you to it.” He was out of the living room like his ass, covered in panties probably, was on fire.
“I don’t know anything.” The mage spoke, his sentences coming out in a rush and blurring together. “I haven’t left this house since you dropped me at the General’s feet. I can’t help myself, little less you.”
“Calm down.” With a tired sigh, I scrubbed a hand over my face flaking off some dried dirt no one told me was there. “I need to remember things that are blocked from my memories.” When the mage clamped his mouth shut, I cocked an eyebrow. “You can do that much.”
“You will do it now,” the caveman next to me ordered, setting my teeth on edge.
“Thank you, Fenrir. You are dismissed; I don’t need a narrator.”
“I am not leaving.” He looked down his nose stubbornly.
