Warrior Fae Princess (Warrior Fae 2)

The woman patted her arm. “Just wait. This ain’t nothin’ yet, honey. Now, here we are.”

They stopped at the edge of a large green field teeming with activity. The dull sound of wood hitting wood thudded repeatedly. The graceful movement and tumble of bodies excited Charity in ways she didn’t quite understand.

“Well, greetings, Miss Charity the Arcana.”

Charity started. Steve lounged beneath a tree not ten feet from her. She’d been so completely focused on the fighting she hadn’t noticed anyone else.

“And hello, you nut job,” he finished.

The fiery-haired woman cackled as she walked to the tree with a perfectly normal gait. Which raised the question: why had she been walking like an ape?

“Steve, why are you naked?” Charity asked.

He shrugged. “All the girls wanted to see me fight in my animal form. Our magic and ferocity turns them on. Given that these mock battles are so much work, for so little reward, I figured I’d just show them a little ferocity in bed, instead. I don’t need to change to do a little magical tickle, know what I mean?”

She just stared at him.

“I’m sure there’ll be a round two soon.” He touched his hand to his chest. “I’m a simple man, Miss Charity the Arcana—three women is my limit, especially these vigorous little fae. Those who were willing to share were left exhausted and satisfied. Those who wanted to wait for alone time are currently vying for Devon’s attention, soaking in his magic. They’ll be back around as soon as they realize he’s not interested.” He lay back, his head propped up on an elbow, and closed his eyes. “Thanks for bringing me. This is better than I could’ve dreamed. None of these feisty little vixens want me permanently. After a little pickle tickle, they are happy to wander away, no strings attached. Perfect.”

“You’re so gross,” she said, really trying to be outraged, but laughing instead.

“Only when the situation demands it,” Steve replied, unbothered.

“Did you do them right here, under this tree? Because if not, that still doesn’t explain why you’re naked.”

He shrugged. “It’s refreshing to saunter around in my birthday suit. I don’t have to wear those…clothes.”

Charity looked down at herself, not understanding what the big deal was. Then again, she had no fashion sense.

“And the men?” she asked.

He peeled an eye open. “They don’t see us. That’s not true; they see Barbara, Yasmine, and Macy just fine—especially Yasmine—wishing the girls were as willing as I am, but they don’t see the men. We’re nothing to them. Outsiders.”

Charity frowned, hearing something in his tone that unsettled her. On the surface, it sounded like the fae were being a lot more hospitable than she would have expected—men were territorial, and the shifters were waltzing around naked, monopolizing the women. The shifters wouldn’t have been so kind had the situation been reversed.

“So no fighting at all, huh?” Charity said. “Even in human form?”

“God no. What a hassle.”

“And everyone else?”

“Well, Macy sent someone to the healer.” He let both eyes drift open this time, studying her.

Fear bled through Charity. “Did she get in trouble? She was allowed to stay, right?”

He watched her like she was missing something.

“What?” she asked.

The madwoman patted Steve’s chest even though his large shoulder was much closer. “Ignorance is bliss…until it is not.”

“It worries me that I understand you,” Steve murmured.

“Yes,” the woman replied. “Your journey of finding love—”

Steve held up his hand. “Nope. We’ve talked about this. I don’t want to hear anything about the future. I’d rather be surprised. And love is for fools, so quit knocking on that door.” The woman cackled again, and Charity got the distinct impression that the crazy laughter was for show. Or it was drugs. “In answer to your question, Miss Charity the Arcana, Macy was applauded and her technique studied. They blamed the man she injured.”

Across the way, Charity caught sight of a powerfully robust body that stuck out amongst the lithe, lean forms of those around him.

Devon!

He fought with a graceful savagery that made her blood pump. The sun glinted off his bare torso as he moved through fighting poses, blocking a thrust and delivering a blow that had his opponent staggering back. His loose pants, just like hers, clung to his sweaty, well-built thighs. His messy black hair swirled around his head, and she just knew his jaw sported that irresistible bad-boy stubble.

In fact, now that she noticed, a line of spectators waited off to the side, women all, dressed in revealing clothes and hanging on every sword thrust.

Possessiveness, hot and fierce, bubbled up through her. Her heart hammered, and not just because of the battle she desperately wanted to join. She craved his viciousness and determination, his confidence that nothing in the world would get through him to harm her. She craved the man who had laid down his life time and again for her, the alpha who could make her feel safe even when she couldn’t protect herself.