Warrior Fae Princess (Warrior Fae 2)

“Charity, you’re still recovering—”

She swept his legs out from under him and then kicked him in the side, easily dodging his attempt to grab her leg. Her speed surprised even her—now that her magic was functioning properly, she was faster than he was by a mile, on par with some of the vampires they’d fought. Her strength was every bit as impressive.

His magic pumped out of him, swirling around her in an intoxicating blend. This was what she’d wanted, needed, and the thrill of the fight flooded her body. A lovely tune floated on the breeze, and her hand itched for the sword she’d left in her bungalow. She opened and closed her fingers.

He saw it. His eyes flicked to a spot behind her.

She turned, and suddenly he was there, grabbing her and tossing.

The bastard had finally decided to fight, and he’d started by fighting dirty.

Adrenaline coursed through her. She kept a laugh from bubbling out, and instead rolled over and groaned, acting like she was fatigued. Or hurt. Either would do.

Devon stopped the downward swing of his fist, buying it.

“Oh God, Charity”—he crouched down next to her, laying a warm hand on her arm—“I didn’t mean to—”

She rolled and punched, catching him completely off guard. If he wanted to fight dirty, who was she to say boo?

Her fist slammed into his jaw. His head snapped back.

She spun on the grass and kicked, but by then he was onto her, trying to dodge. Her foot clipped his shoulder, the force enough to knock him off balance. It would do.

She hopped up and ran, reaching the wooden practice swords with him hot on her heels. She pivoted, caught his swinging fist, and pulled and then launched him over her shoulder and into the pile of practice weapons. She snatched up a blunted sword, palms tingling, and swung it at the center of his broad, muscular back. It wouldn’t do much more than form a welt. She hit him again for good measure before dancing back.

He rose slowly, muscles popping along his powerful frame, his physique standing out like a deliciously sore thumb in the crowd of sleek, lean fae. His eyes were wild, ruthless, his alpha mentality having kicked into overdrive, and his whole person was bent on forcing his challenger to submit. On forcing his dominance.

Something deep and feminine inside her mewed to be taken, to be claimed as only an alpha could claim his female.

But the primal part of her insisted he prove his worth. That he earn his mantle as her protector here, for all to see.

She opened up and let magic gush out of her, confident her new countrymen and women could handle it. Part of her wondering why they weren’t already up and by her side, sensing the call of battle on the air. Her magic filled her to bursting, and still she let it come, blasting out of her and covering the field in the feeling of budding flowers, growing plants, horses stomping on bloodied mud, and the agonized cries of a foe. She blended it in a heady mix, the beautiful and the ugly, the peace and the violence, and released it as a shock wave.

We are warriors. Come fight by my side.

Steve halted his advance, nearly to the gathering crowd of onlookers, and the humor dripped off his face. His eyes turned hungry.

The lion emerged.

His roar made half of those seated jump to their feet. The rest cowered from the might of his shifter form, not living up to the stories she’d heard of the warrior fae. Wondering if hiding away here in the Flush had dulled their abilities.

Steve, on the other hand, stared at Charity. Ready for a command. Ready to battle.

Devon saw it, and his eyes blazed. Charity was, in effect, pulling rank, and the alpha in him wasn’t having it. This wasn’t just about dominance and submission anymore—it was about the right to lead his pack.

She’d raised the stakes.

Game on.

Magic swirled around him. A green mist enveloped him, and then his wolf form emerged. He lifted his head and howled, long and beautiful, the wolf song.

Your alpha calls. Join me.

She felt the power of it well up from her toes. Felt the need to fall in beside him. Saw the previously cowering fae straighten up, then stand, like awakening from a dream.

Felt the smile spreading across her face.

“Now. This is a battle.” She ran at him, stupid fake sword at the ready. Almost there, she shoved out her hand.

A spark flared right in front of him. He opened his mouth for some reason, and then he was flying, tumbling through the air.

She was on him in a flash, slashing down with the sword, aiming for his neck. “Honor system,” she grunted out, trying to get in a slash that would have decapitated him.