Page 96 of Kingdoms of Night

He set the teapot back on the table and wiped his mouth. “All the tea is gone. Time to fulfill your end of the bargain, Puck.”

Idalno gasped as she clambered onto the bank. Water streamed from her heavy clothes, her black shawl nowhere in sight. Her eyebrows drew together. “Feron, what did you do?”

He could hear the concern in her voice, but she didn’t know what Emaurrian werewolves were like. Poisons that could kill humans didn’t affect them at all, and they couldn’t even get drunk. Even if this was poisoned—which Puck had said it wouldn’t kill them—he’d be fine.

Puck’s purple eyes widened as his face paled. “You drank it all?”

“Yes.” He stifled an unpleasant response, pounding his chest lightly with a fist.

This—this was bad. The wyrm hadn’t settled well, and adding that perfumy floral tea to the mix—

He closed his eyes. Damn it. He staggered back a few steps. Things were churning in there.

He hadn’t felt this bad since he’d eaten that really questionable fuzzy cheese two years ago as a human, and that was a time he didn’t like to recall.Reallydidn’t like to recall.

Along with the wolves, Idalno appeared beside him, grabbing him by the arm to steady him. “Are you all right?”

He really wasn’t. At all.

Bad liquid to drink,Hawthorn said, nudging his leg.

Not good at all,Buttercup agreed.Do human wolves often turn green?

Only when they ate or drank very questionable things.

Puck continued to stare at him, mouth open. “That was meant for two! I had cups for two. See?” He lifted up the delicate porcelain cups with the pale-pink apple blossoms painted along their sides. “You do understand what cups are for, don’t you, werewolf? By all that lives and breathes, how could you drink the whole thing?”

Merde. It really wasn’t settling well. He placed his hand on his stomach.

The edges of his vision wobbled, and his mouth went dry.

His knees buckled.

Buzzing filled his ears.

Oh, gods. This was going to be bad.

CHAPTERTEN

IDALNO

Idalno tried to steady Feron. He outweighed her by maybe sixty pounds. As he swayed, he leaned harder against her. Oh, plagues. Probably more.

She braced herself and then put her arms around him. “You’re not looking so good. Why don’t you sit down?”

He resisted at first, then staggered, his knees almost giving way. The wolves barked and circled them. He nodded, his face pale and his skin clammy. He almost fell rather than sat, rocking hard.

A garbled stream of words left his mouth, too fast for her to catch except for “couldn’t protect.”

“Hey, hey, it’s all right,” she said softly. “You saved us. Thank you. All right? You just keep breathing. You’ll be fine. We wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.” She then turned to Puck and glared at him. “How could you do this?” she demanded, almost surprised at the ferocity in her own voice. Yet each word she spoke punched up her fury.

Feron… This man had jumped into a mystical lake knowing full well there were man-eating eels in there. And her death would have freed him from having to carry on with her. But he’d jumped in to save her along with his two wolves. Infuriating blood beetle or not, he wasn’t all bad. And she wasn’t going to let him die.

It was only polite, after all. This had nothing to do with them being a match and everything to do with common courtesy.

“Just rest. Deep breaths, slowly now.” She smoothed his tangled, matted hair back.

He clenched his jaw, beads of sweat rolling down his face. “Not going to stop breathing.” His skin was clammy, his pulse thready.

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