Page 3 of The Stones for It
“Forest guardian,” Neiron murmured, bowing ever so slightly to the spiny prick. “Forgive us. We did not mean to intrude on your territory.”
My brows quirked as I watched Neiron, deadly serious for once,apologise.
To. A. Squirrel.
The critter squeaked again, raising a teensy tiny fist and shaking it at me.
Neiron peered at me. “He says you’ve been trying to kill him despite his attempts to aid you.”
“Aye, you speak squeak now?” I cocked a brow. “There was noaid. That thing tried to chomp me. How very fae of you to call self-defence a crime, though.”
Neiron shot a glare at the angry squeaker. “I don’t care how sacred your kind is—if you hurt my mate, I will pluck your spikes and make them into knuckle dusters for her.”
Warmth lit me from the inside at his violent sentiment. I’d known him for what couldn’t be more than a day or so, yet he already knew that the way to my heart was sharp and deadly.
Spines flared along the creature’s back until it looked like a fluffy pufferfish.
My lips quirked. “Aww, you’re a wee bit cute when you’re not trying to bite me.”
“Why, thank you,” Neiron purred without missing a beat.
I snorted, and even the puffer-squirrel deflated a little with a huff at the kitsune. It bared its pointy needle teeth at me with an indignant squeak and turned on its fluffy tail, scampering back into the bushes.
“You just make friends everywhere you go, huh?” Neiron mused, eyes dancing with mirth as his multitude of foxy tails flicked playfully behind him.
“Coming from you, Fluffles? I’m surprised that thing left with its heart intact.”
Beaming like a lunatic again, he grabbed my hand, tugging me in the opposite direction from the evil squirrel.
“Don’t worry, my sweet siren, there are plenty more hearts for me to offer up. Speaking of which…” He trailed off, slowing to lift his short muzzle and inhale deeply.
He sniffed left and right for a moment, and angled hard to the left, picking up the pace.
I hurried behind as we zig-zagged between wide ebony trunks, my senses alert as I scanned the darkened forest for any hint of other fae or Selected humans. I kept my blade drawn, angled out so I wouldn’t stab myself if I tripped on a stray root.
After the way those werehyena boudas had attacked me before, I now didn’t trust a single fae I came across. I was officially suspicious of all fae; the Hunt had finally achieved what years in the military couldn’t, and I hated it.
Though it wasn’t just fae I couldn’t trust in Faerie.
Neiron had already slayed the human monster from my nightmares, though. I still wasn’t sure how to process Zachariah’s death, so I set the churning emotions aside.
That was something to deal with when I wasn’t running through Faerie—half-naked.
Every distant crack of a twig and rustle of bushes wound my nerves tighter as Neiron dragged me along.
The sweet smell of berries still dominated the air, but the further we strode, the more things changed. The towering black and gold maple and redwood trees shortened into more tropical varieties, like enchanted mango and cashew nut trees. Vines strung between them like colourful bunting, reaching down to the delicate ferns that replaced the thorny bushes.
Instead of the usual greenery, we plunged into a sunset of colours—oranges, pinks and purples dominating the narrowing leaves and glistening fruits.
A faint glow caressed several plants, and I couldn’t tell whether it was drawing me closer or warning me away.
So lost in the magical scenery, it took me a second too long to notice Neiron had stopped, and once again, I slammed between his fluffy wings, barely avoiding cutting either of us.
He shot me a wink over his shoulder. “I knew you were obsessed with me, too.”
I sheathed my blade to stop myself from stabbing him again, accidentally or otherwise.
The crazy fox tugged me against his front, giving me a quick cuddle, and then yanked me down into a crouch.
