Warrior Fae Princess (Warrior Fae 2)

Devon stopped beside Hallen. “Any time you want to challenge me, I’m right here.” His voice was low and rough, anger brimming just below the surface.

Hallen scoffed and looked away. Devon had proven his prowess on their battlefield. He’d worked his way up the competition, allowed to compete in his wolf form. He’d only been beaten by two people: Halvor and his wife. Hallen didn’t stand a chance, and they both knew it.

“Think Charity knows they’re trying to set her up with that joker?” Andy murmured as they walked into a grassy area surrounded by little glowing orbs. Shrubbery surrounded the enclosure, and tiny glowing creatures, like lightning bugs, fluttered along the tops, creating dancing light. Excellently crafted, highly polished round tables dotted the grass, adorned by elaborate flower centerpieces and surrounded by silk-draped chairs. It looked like a setup for a wedding, or some other swanky affair.

Devon glanced down at his robe, horribly plain compared with the artful embroidery and shimmering fabric worn by the other attendees. The costuming people were clearly identifying Devon’s pack as outsiders, as if that hadn’t already been sufficiently drilled into them.

“No,” Devon said, spotting a table at the very corner, somewhat removed from the others. That would be for his pack. At least the table was of the same quality as the rest. “She’s completely blind to it. She thinks he’s just like Kairi—an assistant. Someone to help her find her way and keep her magic level. She doesn’t realize they have an ulterior motive.”

His pack followed him through the fancy setup. This would be the first time Macy had seen Charity since they’d arrived. Macy hadn’t visited her at the bungalow for fear she’d be reduced to a puddle of tears. Being that everyone else had visited, had made excuses for Macy, and Charity was half-dead at day’s end, it had so far gone unnoticed.

They all knew that after this, that would no longer be the case. Charity had been distracted, but a girl like her didn’t stay oblivious for long.

“Charity thinks these people will accept me as her mate.” Devon huffed as he caught sight of the First Arcana, dressed in a robe embroidered with beads and gems. A sparkling tiara identified her status. “She seems to think they’re keeping us at arm’s length out of respect.”

“If that’s the case, she’s got a long way to go before she acclimates to this place,” Steve said. Halvor had told him in no uncertain terms that he must wear clothes to this event. Unlike the others, he took great delight in being the fae ladies’ dirty little secret, the dirtier the better. “They are probably throwing shade at her, and she thinks they’re complimenting her.”

“Probably,” Devon said. “And thank God. So far I’ve kept my cool every time that prick Hallen touches the small of her back, but only because I don’t want to mess this up for her. I’d like to rip that fucker’s arms off.”

“Let her secure her place, then raise hell,” Steve said. “I like this place as much as the next guy, but I wouldn’t mind getting back to a nice steak and a bed I don’t have to literally roll out of.”

“See? Didn’t I say I wasn’t the only one annoyed with the bed situation?” Andy said in triumph.

The First noticed Devon, and her posture changed into one of expectation. She wanted to speak with him.

His heart sank and his palms started to sweat. He knew why.

“Go sit down,” he told his pack. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Alpha Shifter, hello,” the First said, her tiara catching and throwing the light. She stood in front of a raised platform holding a narrow table. The head table, no doubt, for the ruling party to look over their people. Charity would get a place at that table. She’d get a future that most magical people would kill for.

Devon bowed. “First, thank you for inviting us.”

“Charity expressly requested it.”

Ah. So they were making an exception for Charity.

“How magnanimous of you,” he said with a straight face and no bodily sign of his sarcasm.

Her pursed lips said she read it anyway. “Yes. Quite.” Her smile was false. “You must be relieved this day has finally come.”

“And what day is that, First?” he asked as her assistant, a hard-eyed man with impeccable posture, glided in behind her. He stopped a little too close to her, their proximity speaking of an intimacy that wasn’t strictly professional. No one had mentioned what had happened to her husband. It was as though they didn’t speak of the dead, missing, or lost. Or maybe they just didn’t air their dirty laundry to strangers, and Charity was still one.

“Why, the day your duty ends. After Charity’s role in our society has been decided, you’ll be free to seek your home. You must be missing it.”