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Bronywyn
The sight of all the supernaturals heading straight for us is terrifying. We’re greatly outnumbered. And not just by witches. No, the councils are flanked by witches, warlocks, vampires, shifters, and—to my dismay—hunters.
They don’t even realize that the ones they’re here to destroy are the same ones fighting for them. How fucking sad. But, such is the power of manipulation.
The group comes to a stop about four yards in front of the porch where we’re standing. Faces twisted in anger and disgust, they look at us like we’re the abominations. In reality, we’re the only ones standing between the councils and complete control.
“Odette, how lovely to see you again,” I greet, stepping forward to place myself between her group and mine. If they attack, I want to be able to shield us.
“Interesting little place you’ve chosen here,” she says.
“What can I say, I love nature.” I cross both arms, attempting to look unconcerned despite the fear nearly paralyzing me.
“Why are you here?” Rainey demands as she comes to stand beside me.
Odette’s gaze lingers on me for a heartbeat, her eyes narrowing slightly. Then, after a moment, she turns to Rainey. “I want to offer you a chance to turn yourselves in.”
Delaney snorts. “Turn ourselves in? Really? That’s what you think is going to happen, here?”
“It’s your only chance.” Odette raises both arms. “I have an army behind me, and you have—what—a handful of fae and humans?” She clicks her tongue. “Wouldn’t be much of a fair fight.”
“I don’t see any fae on your side,” Rainey replies.
Odette’s savage grin spreads. “Oh? You don’t?” She claps her hands, and a line of fae appear directly in front of the porch.
And when I meet the golden gaze of Fearghas’s sister, all my hope dissipates like smoke.
“Sheelin,” Fearghas snarls as he rushes forward.
“So nice to see you, big brother.” She cocks her head to the side. “You, too, Ridley. Long time.”
“Fuck off, Sheelin.”
She grins. “I’d much rather have a front-row seat to you getting your asses handed to you.” She turns her attention back to Fearghas. “Tell me, big brother, where is your siren?” She arches up on her tiptoes and makes a show of studying those of us on the porch. “I don’t see her around.”
He growls and charges forward. Delaney throws up a hand, stopping him with a barrier.
“Let me the fuck go, Delaney.”
She steps down to stand beside him on the second stair. “She’s baiting you, Fearghas.”
“Obviously.” His gaze never leaves his sister. “You’re going to burn for what you’ve done. For the misery you’ve caused.”
Sheelin throws her head back and laughs. “Funny you should accuse me of such violence, when your friend’s brother is currently ravaging Faerie in an attempt to steal a throne that is mine by right.”
“You were never in line for that throne.”
“I married for that throne.” She steps forward and reaches out to rest a palm against Delaney’s barrier. It sparks green as she presses against it. “I’m going to enjoy killing your little witch friend,” she tells him. “And then I’ll be taking care of that siren of yours. Perhaps she’d enjoy the company of my army. I hear she’s used to entertaining more than one man at a time.”
Fucking bitch.
Fearghas snarls and lunges forward, using all of his strength to press against the barrier, while Sheelin’s grin spreads. Delaney holds strong, but the strain is evident. They want him to make the first move, to run in, angry and half-cocked, because that will give them the advantage.
An advantage I won’t willingly hand these assholes.
I jump off the stairs and throw up my own barrier, a second layer to hers in an attempt to alleviate the strain. The pressure is immense as Fearghas fights to break free and get to his sister. She, completely unafraid, watches—waiting for an opportunity to kill her brother.
But there’s no way in hell I’ll let that happen.
