Page 46 of The Stones for It
“You will if you treat me like I’m less,” I vowed. “We can do this. But only if you work with me, rather than against me. I need you to trust me, Vrath. I need us to be partners, in all things. Equals. Or nothing is going to work between us, mystical mate bullshit or not.”
He pulled me against his front and tipped my chin up, bringing our lips inches apart. “How can we be equals, little mortal, when you’re so muchmore?”
Before I could respond, he conquered the last inch separating us and devoured my lips. His kiss dominated my senses for one breathless second before he freed me.
His eyes blazed with a determination that reflected in my soul. “Let’s go get our tricksy kitsune back. Together.”
I grinned, lips sensitive from his stolen kiss, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“The best plans are the simplest,” I said. “I’ll step out first, and while they’re distracted fighting over a new human toy, you free our damsel in distress.”
He nodded. “The boudas are known for having a voracious appetite. There’s a chance they’ll recognise you from the earlier attack, but they’re ignorant enough to think all humans look the same. Plus, your scent has been stripped by the corrosive rain and then doused in mine.”
I dismissed the fierce blush heating my cheeks. Now wasn’t the time to get turned on by the hulking, gargoyle sex god.Later.
We had a fox to save.
“Approach from the far side, and as soon as they’ve all drifted away from Neiron, cut him loose. I’ll run for you the moment he’s free,” I said.
He nodded. “I’ll follow your lead, little mate.”
I swallowed thickly, throwing out the words I’d meant so scathingly just hours ago. “Try not to die, dickhead.”
Chapter eighteen
Kelsea
Vrath melted between the vine-strangled trees like a shadow, a dark smirk carving his chiselled features.
I moved into position, crouching behind a rosy fern at the treeline, and counted five minutes in my head.
The boudas and their allies milled about, content to lounge around the clearing. They’d finished cooking the mystery meatjoint over their fire, and a handful of fae drifted towards it. The lone female jackalope began slicing pieces off with her claws, dumping them onto a giant leaf on a nearby stump.
I drew a steadying breath and shifted my dagger high up my thigh so that the floaty hem of my dress hid it as much as possible.
If I was going for ditsy, lost human bait, I couldn’t be so obviously armed. There was no chance I’d feed myself to them without it, though. If things went sideways, I’d be getting stab-happy real quick.
Feeling like a classy lass, I yanked my semi-clean dress low enough that my cleavage spilled out and stepped into the clearing.
All eyes immediately locked onto me.
Including Neiron’s.
A low growl rumbled from his direction, but I couldn’t spare him a glance between the bristling werehyenas and mildly interested jackalopes, or my mask might crumble beneath the weight of my rage.
“Why, hello, good sirs,” I said, giving the biggest, scarred bouda a friendly wave.
Why my faint Scottish brogue had turned to posh ye-olde-English, I had no clue.
I offered a tentative smile and took another step. “I was wondering if I might trouble you fine gentlemen for a spot of help?”
The male I’d waved at strode from between the others, and as I’d hoped, the other fae kept their attention on me. I needed them closer though, instead of spaced out in small clusters.
The hulking bouda eyed me from head to toe with a hungry lick of his jowls and stalked closer.
“Mmm, a lost little Shua’than,” he purred, more kittycat than hyena. “What a tempting, ripe treat.”
I fought the instinct to draw my blade and test theripenessof his plums.
