Page 231 of Fated to be Enemies

Fine, but I’ll be there soon, he rasped in my head. I can feel your pain.

My stomach fluttered, and it had everything to do with his determination to protect me. I pushed the thought aside and searched for something … anything to fight off the impending threat. My magic wouldn’t hold the manticore for long, though the oak branches tightened around the monster’s neck.

When I sat up, my head swam, and my body wanted to keel over. Between that and how much it hurt to fill my lungs, I thought I might pass out, but that would be my death warrant, and I refused to give up that easily.

Placing both hands on the ground to steady myself, I stood slowly. The manticore hissed and swung its tail around its body. I watched as the quills shivered, as if they were about to be released one by one.

Moving my feet, I got behind the large oak as it fired its quills. Several flew to the sides of the tree as I pressed my back against the trunk, protecting myself. I hated that the tree was sustaining injuries because of me, but it would heal, unlike me, if a quill hit the right spot.

With no other weapon, I removed my bow from my body, my shoulder screaming. I clenched my jaw and grabbed an arrow from the quiver. The quill fire ceased, and I peeked around the trunk, aimed at the monster’s stomach, and fired.

I overshot. The arrow missed its mark, hitting the manticore in the upper leg. It hissed, the quills shivering in its tail again.

Shifting back behind the tree, I heard a snap, and the strength of my magic weakened. The other manticore was freeing itself.

The next time I fired, I couldn’t miss, or I would be the monster’s first meal of the day.

The quills whistled past me and struck the ground with louder thuds than last time. The monster was getting angrier. I had to figure a way out of this and fast.

Stay where you are. I’ll take care of this one too, Kieran said, and I heard feet racing toward the manticore.

My heart caught in my throat as the quills continued to soar past me. Even though the manticore was distracted, it had excellent senses.

The quills stopped, and I jumped out from my spot just as Kieran swung his sword at the manticore’s neck. I watched in horror as the monster’s tail whipped around, aiming for Kieran’s head. Even if Kieran landed a deadly blow, it wouldn’t matter.

The heat that added to my magic exploded, and pink flames erupted from my hands. The magic soared past Kieran, who halted and hit the manticore right in the chest. Its reddish fur sparked, and pink flames flickered and spread along its body. I gaped and stared at my hands in disbelief.

The tail stopped short, barely missing Kieran, as the monster tried to get away from us.

The vines pulled back from the fire, and the flames brightened. Kieran stumbled away from the tail, and his wide-eyed stare flicked to me.

You have fire magic? His surprise and betrayal flowed through me, tightening my chest.

I studied my hands, ignoring the way my shoulder ached, and noticed that the wound where the quill had gone through my hand was completely healed.

Strange.

I didn’t know I had it. This was all bizarre and should’ve been impossible. Fae had only one magical affinity, not two. This is brand-new information to me as well.

Thank the shadows you have it. Kieran headed toward me, not even glancing at the monster, which wailed as the flames burned it to a crisp. I would’ve been dead if not for you. But then his face turned strained as he realized what we had done.

We’d saved each other.

I didn’t think I could ever consider him my enemy. I’d struggled with it in my previous life when he’d rejected me, but in this life, there was no way I could see him as someone other than the person I loved.

Love.

What a dangerous and amazing word, especially during the Comortas.

When he reached me, he didn’t hesitate to take me into his arms despite the disgusting blood covering my face and armor and coating the front of my hair. He held me close, his arms tight, like a vise I never wanted to be released from.

“I stink,” I said, not wanting him to pass out from the smell. “And so do you.”

“You’ve smelled worse.” The corners of his mouth tipped upward.

I laughed, which startled me. In this dire situation, he could still make me smile. This wasn’t a time for laughter, but his being safe made me a little giddy. “I’m pretty sure you’re smelling your upper lip, not me.”

His brows creased as he leaned back. “What does that mean?”

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