Page 37 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

My king looked at me. It was my call.

"We'll be fine," I parroted.

"Bring her back," Aeryn insisted. "I don't care what you have to do, but bring her back. Because if you don't, I'll raze that shithole to the ground and I don't care who gets hurt."

She'd never sounded so bloodthirsty. I stood straight and gave the future queen a formal bow.

"Saxon stays with you, Liam. That's not a request."

I nodded curtly to Nox and headed toward the door. Saxon followed, his long strides matching mine.

"Liam," he said quietly, his tone serious, "you know what happens in Dusthaven."

I hated that he felt the need to remind me, to call attention to it. "Of course I know."

"Then it's best you prepare yourself for what we find."

Our footsteps echoed through the empty corridors as I imagined the worst. Raina was no longer mine, but the horribly sick feeling I was getting hit me like she was.

We exited the main building of the castle and went straight to the armory. The light coming from the fae lanterns reflected off the polished blades and gleaming armor.

"Grab what you need," I told him, seeking some of the smaller weapons that could be carried easily. When we found Raina, she'd need to be armed for the trek back.

As we moved through the armory, our movements were swift and purposeful. I grabbed a new pack, one that already had food, water, and a bedroll.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked, instantly regretting it as I casted a sideways glance at Saxon." Aside from Nox sending you to me earlier."

He snorted, shouldering a crossbow and grabbing a handful of bolts.

"Helping you helps her," he replied casually, the ghost of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

"You could have gone after Raina yourself."

"And have her hero-worship me forever? No thank you. Plus, you were already exactly where I would have gone if I'd been on my own. May as well have two heads working together."

"I'm serious, Saxon."

This time he turned to me fully. "What did you pack?"

My brow slanted. "What does it matter?"

"Humor me."

I opened the backpack and showed him. "Same as you, food, water, weapons, and the like."

"No, not the same as me."

He picked up a small bag I'd chosen. "Dried winter berries." Then another. "Iceland moss."

Saxon unsheathed a dagger. "Two dirks and a half-dozen throwing knives. And," he held up a vial, "a frost tonic."

"It's refreshing in the heat," I argued weakly.

"It is. It also helps frost nymphs replenish energy. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the dirk is Raina's dagger of choice, yes? And the berries and moss are–"

"I know what you're doing. You can stop."

"I'm not the one who's been moping around like a lovesick fool."

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