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Lyrena and I thought it was hilarious. Arran’s face was set in granite.
I held my hand out to Maisri, lifting a brow in expectation.
The clever daisy fae understood immediately. Thirty seconds later, a daisy ball landed in my hand.
I tested its weight, letting the others move ahead of me.
And when Arran was separate from the rest, hanging back with me unconsciously, I threw it at his head.
He shifted.
Fuck.
I knew better than to run, so I pulled my knives instead. As if they would make the slightest difference.
The great white wolf leapt through the air.
I had half a second to reconsider the wisdom of my actions before two massive paws landed on my biceps, the force knocking my knives from my grasp and all the air from my lungs as my back hit the ground.
The beast snarled, his canines dangerously close to my face.
Ancestors.
I’d underestimated just how wound up he was.
The others were running back, weapons drawn. What would they do? Try to harm their king? Arran Earthborn? I used the fraction of an inch I had to jerk my chin to the side.
“Stay back,” I ordered.
The beast’s powerful tail swiped across my shins, thick and punishing. I jerked my arms hard, getting my hands up to curl around his forelegs.
I was under no illusions who would win if I tried to test my strength against the wild white wolf. But I had other ways to bend him to my will.
That’s right.I gnashed my teeth.Take it all out on me.
The deep growl hit me hard in the chest, where the mating bond lay.Don’t tempt me.
I licked my lips, watching the huge, wolfish black eyes glaze over.Does my beast have a thorn in his paw?
That vicious snout, ripper of so many throats, dipped to my neck and huffed into my ear—Only one.
I sank my teeth into my lower lip.
“You’re scaring the others,” I said aloud.
He growled louder.
The others—lingering at a distance—retreated another few steps.
I rolled my eyes. “Be nice.”
A breath, and it was the Brutal Prince pinning me to the ground. “I am not known for being nice.”
I tugged on a loose lock of dark hair that had fallen out of the club at the back of his neck.
“Neither are you,” he growled.
“If watching Maisri hit Percival with daisy bombs cannot lift your dark mood, I know I ought to be concerned.”
