Page 17 of Deadly Maiden

The red-haired enforcer is first, but close behind him are two of the others.

A loud whistle makes the mare toss her head, whipping her reins free of my grip, and she gallops away, toward them.

I’m left stranded, weaponless, stomach churning with—I hate to call it this but—fear.

No point in hanging about waiting to be grabbed. I sprint for the nearest thick stand of trees, hearing the men call theirmounts to them and thunder after me. Before I can reach the trees, they cut me off and I’m surrounded by the fae on their horses. Slowly they circle me, trotting. The unhurried clop of hooves as they herd me away from a sanctuary so close I can taste it…it is almost worse than an assault.

Nervously, I check for gaps, for somewhere to go.

Moonlight glides over the etched features of their faces, showing blood and bruising on two of them.

They may have fought each other, but that does not help me.

I don’t want this. This is not how this should end.

But I hold my arms out to the sides, open palmed, to try to lull them.

I just…need…a horse.

One damn horse.

The biggest man nudges in closest. I squint at him, wondering why he did what he did—helped me?

He smiles back.

“You can’t have her, Rorsyd,” the commander drawls, hefting his bejeweled sword. “Give her up. We’re only arresting her. If you want a fuck girl, buy one.”

Rorsyd doesn’t laugh. He growls in a subterranean throb that hints at a jagged-fanged beast, about to rip out some throats.

Growls. What is he?

I back further, knowing the third rider is somewhere behind me. “Are you my friend?”

“Friend? I am your watcher. I am a dragonshifter, and these fools will not have you.” He eyes the others, deliberate and menacing. He doesn’t bother to stray his hand from his broad thigh to his sword, but I see the arched gleam of large claws and how the tips dent his pants. “Mine, as I told you. Or will you have me shift to defeat you?”

“If you could’ve done that, you would’ve already,” sneers the rider at my back, his nasal tone betraying some injury. I hear him snort then spit. “You broke my fuckin’ nose.”

“Must I?” Rorsyd’s eyes, shadowed though they are by his brow, catch moonlight. A fiery moonlight that seethes in oranges and reds with dragon flames.

Thatminewas a threat.

This is not looking good.

Of all the shifters in all the world, why do I have a dragonshifter after me? Why does he keep sayingmine, if he hates me?

On his face, patchwork outlines glow, growing brighter, marking the shapes of scales on his skin. He’s preparing to shift, and I have no exit here. Nowhere to go that won’t see me run down by a horse and hurt or killed, spitted, or taken before an Aos Sin court for practicing necromancy.

If I must pick between two or three bad choices. I choose…

I lock my gaze onto this Rorsyd. “I am innocent. Help me, please?”

I choose him. I don’t know what he wants from me except that he doesn’t want to arrest me.

The utter confusion I created is clear in those flame-licked irises. He blinks, staring at me. The transparent eyelids of a dragon flick across his eyes then retract.

“I’ve doing nothing bad.” I’m repeating myself but it appears to be working.

“You are…” He shakes his head then he wheels his horse about to face his commander, declaring, “Let us not be hasty. We should question her. Seek evidence of necromancy.”

---