Warrior Fae Princess (Warrior Fae 2)

Penny laughed with glee. “Eventually she’ll probably bust through the elves to get to us. She has to be going stir-crazy without trouble to find and then throw me into.”

“Sorry…you were saying that you heard Hallen is intended for Charity?” Andy reminded her. Penny could get lost on the thought train and never return.

“Oh yeah. I was sitting in someone’s front yard, analyzing a new plant I’d found, when I heard someone talking about it. No one closes their windows here. You’d think they would want a little privacy. Anyway, they think he’s a perfect fit because he’s from a high-status family, has a great skill set, and has proven himself on the battlefield. They didn’t say who he was fighting against, but I found it pretty surprising, since he hesitated with a kill shot when going after those demons the other week…”

She let that comment trail off, although Andy was pretty sure she’d voiced what all of them were thinking. Hallen was a coward, and worse, he was a stuck-up prick.

“What’s his skill set?” Macy asked.

“Candle making,” Emery said, picking up a candle from the shelf near his head. “The way he uses colors and smells is masterful, I guess.”

“That’s what he’s heralded for? Candle making?” Andy said. “He can fight and make candles and suddenly he’s better than Devon?”

“Devon can’t make candles,” Rod said. “He can just fight.”

“I’m sure he could make candles if he wanted to,” Andy replied. “He could rock this place with candles. Do you know why he doesn’t? Because scented candles are only good for stinky bathrooms.”

Macy and Penny burst out laughing. Emery pulled over a chair from the small round table and stationed it between Yasmine at the window and Andy’s bed on the floor. He sat and looked out the window, keeping watch. What from, Andy had never bothered to ask. Emery wasn’t used to relaxing when he was in the Realm. Old habits…

“Where’s Steve?” Emery asked.

“He was going to go pick a fight with someone who pissed him off earlier,” Rod said, dumping the carrots on steroids into a pot over a magical blue flame.

“That’s the other thing.” Andy pointed at the flame. “Other types of fae make useful things. Like that flame. It’s used for cooking and lighting—useful. But not these fae. Their job is fighting. That’s their whole identity.” He made quotes with his fingers. “Guardians.” He dropped his hands. “But what are they guarding, way out here in no man’s land? They’re removed from the rest of their kind. You know, the useful fae. They are fighters…who only practice fighting. They sit here, ignoring the world, not doing what it is they’re supposed to be doing, and yet we’re the gross ones? We’re the dirty, brutish race that is a stain on their society?”

“You should tell them that,” Macy murmured.

“How could I? They pretend like I don’t exist, unless one of them is dared to bang me, and then she’s not interested in chatter, she just wants my dong.” That comment got a smile from Emery, his first in a while. Too bad Andy hadn’t been joking. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “I’m losing my mind here. How long do you think until we can go home?”

“When Devon realizes he’ll have to make a choice and stay here with Charity, or leave without her,” Yasmine said softly, staring out the window, “he’s going to stay. I know it.”Chapter Thirty-Three“I hope you know how lucky you are that you were invited,” Hallen said to Devon. The fae stood just outside an arch made of vines and flowers, leading into the greatly anticipated cooking competition, as Devon and his pack approached.

Charity had been stressing about this for the last week. She’d sampled all of the local cuisine, learning what the people here liked. She tried all the drinks, too, breaking her rule and even trying alcoholic beverages. And she pored over the ingredients Kairi brought her, familiarizing herself with the unfamiliar. She was at a major disadvantage, not knowing what flavors appealed to people, and everyone knew it. Her family had made it clear they didn’t expect her to win, something Devon had to give them props for. They merely wanted to see if she had potential.

Charity wasn’t one to do things by halves, though. She intended to win the whole thing. Devon had never been prouder of her.

He’d also never been so terrified for the future. With each passing day, Devon watched as Charity fell a little more in love with the Flush. She belonged here. She was welcomed, and loved, and people smiled as she approached. Laughed at her jokes. She was blending into their community perfectly—her sweet nature, tempered with the bite of steel, matched that of her peers.

She was drifting away from Devon’s way of life.