A Queen of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 4)

“It is her duty to anticipate you. It is her entire job—to anticipate and protect. You are inexperienced in battle, your dragon is inexperienced in all things, and you have no fear. You are a fucking nightmare on a battlefield, Finley. For me. I need to keep alive a woman who does not seem to want to stay alive herself.”

Rage was pulsing through the bond, seeping into his words. I fell into it, letting the power consume me, wondering how much longer until that water started boiling.

“You have that wrong, sire,” Hannon said as he crossed behind us to the pot. “She absolutely wants to stay alive. Train her how and then stand back. That’s all you need to do.”

“That’s all I need to do, is it, Hannon?”

I grabbed Nyfain’s shoulder, trying to struggle up. “Don’t take that tone with—”

“It’s fine, Finley,” Hannon said as he lifted the pot off the fire and set it aside. “It’s his fear talking. He can let out his rage. My animal is not afraid of it. He says it is a natural part of life.”

Arleth strode in, dirty, nude and with blood spattered through her wild hair. She had a shallow gash already healing across her stomach. Shock and fear rolled over her expression before she turned entirely stoic.

“I heard she was stabbed,” Arleth said. She walked straight to her store of draughts and elixirs. “What happened?”

“She went after Dolion,” Nyfain said, his tone flat. “His demons had a great sword, and they knew where to use it.”

“I know those details. I meant why were they able to get a sword that close to her in the first place?”

“I was too far away to help. I couldn’t get to her to stop it.”

“Where was her guard?” She pulled free a little canister and unscrewed the top before shooting a blazing look at Nyfain. “Why was she in the heat of battle? Her dragon might as well be an infant with what little she knows. She can barely get up off the ground. She definitely doesn’t know how to get out of the air properly. I heard she tried to dive straight into him. She could’ve killed herself!”

“She was crash-landing at him to squish him,” I said, my voice wispy, leaning my cheek against Nyfain’s neck. “Mmm, your skin feels good. Cool. If you land just right, it works.”

“She’s burning up,” Nyfain said.

“It’s nearly ready,” Hannon, the only one not riled up, replied. “It just needs to cool a little, and I’ll mix in her ingredients.”

“I’m—” I gritted my teeth to keep from saying I was fine. “Just get me that elixir and I’ll be fine, seriously.” I wilted over Nyfain’s shoulder now, very little strength left. My mouth felt like I had a cloth in it. “I’ve been this bad before.”

“Once, yes,” Hannon said, “and that was without her animal to help. I just need this water ready and…well, what’s a little throat burn, eh, Finley?”

“My throat will heal,” I slurred, draped around Nyfain, so, so sleepy. “Probably don’t have much longer.”

“Here. Have her breathe in this,” Arleth said, bending behind Nyfain to put a canister close to my face.

“Whoops.” Hannon put a hand to her arm and moved her to the side. “Sorry, ma’am, but I don’t know what that is, and she is getting close to unconsciousness. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already. It must be her mate riling her up. Let’s just stick with what works, shall we?”

Thunderclouds crossed her face. “Did you just push the former queen of Wyvern, young man?”

Hannon ignored her, pulling the mortar close, removing the pestle, and dumping the contents into the mug.

“There is some debate as to your position, ma’am,” Hannon said, mixing the ingredients with his finger. “I beg your pardon, but I’d do it regardless. The prince cares more about his mate than your outrage. I figure I’m safe enough.”

He bent to me, his hand on my forehead.

“Here we go, Finley. This is going to hurt. It’s only a burn, though. The elixir will help heal it as it heals you. I know you remember the last time. Get it in you, and then you can go to sleep. I’ll stitch you up.”

I knew better than to try to grab the mug. I knew better than to worry about the pain it would cause going down. When his eyes looked like that, we were in a dire situation.

“Crashing into him would’ve been so much more effective than the current outcome,” I grumbled.

“You wounded him, sweetheart,” Nyfain said softly. “That’s more than I’m sure he expected. We’ll get him in the end. He’s just going to force us to do it politically. He probably thinks I’m all brawn and no brain. Won’t he have a shock when we show up at the council?”

“When you show up,” I said, babbling now. “I will crash-land into that just the same as I did on the battlefield.”