Page 148 of Faeling
She would never, for however long or short she lived, forget the sight of almost a dozen fae warriors piling onto her mate’s back to subdue him. She would never forget the way he looked upon her, slumped in the sand. Defeat had lined his eyes, a grim sort of determination making her blood run cold.
Ravenna hadn’t quite believed what he’d done even as she sailed through the air. Not until she landed hard on someone was reality knocked into her.
He threw her to safety.
He sacrificed himself.
Absolutely not.
This was Ravenna’s fight, Ravenna’s fault. If anyone should be taken or killed, it should be her.
She told Asta as much, trying to make her see, to let her go. “It should be me—let her takeme. Not him, not him, not—”
Warily watching the battered, angry warriors around them, Asta pulled Ravenna in close. “Shut up,” she hissed, “and come quickly.”
Ravenna and Leita were more carried than walked the rest of the way up the slope and into camp. Asta was heaving by the time she dragged both of them into the king’s tent, out of sight.
Setting herself up at the entrance, Asta peered outside, a worried frown now adorning her brow.
Ravenna tried darting past her, but this time was stopped by Leita.
The fae woman threw her manacled arms around her, keeping her within their circle.
“Don’t,” whispered Leita. “Can’t you hear them?”
“Hear what?” She couldn’t hear anything past her own racing heart and how it was breaking down the center.
“The warriors. They’re angry with you.” Leita looked upon her seriously. “They blame you.”
Ravenna groaned. “It’s my fault,” she insisted. “This was my plan, my revenge—it should have been me!”
Her words were drowned out by the commotion outside the tent.
“Let us have her, Asta,” said a deep, threatening voice just outside.
“She’ll come out and speak with you in a moment. Let her regain her composure.”
“Damn what she has to say. This was her bloody doing—give her over.”
“My brother knew what he was doing,” said Asta. “Hope isn’t lost. She’ll no doubt send terms soon.”
“We shouldn’t wait. Let’s hand her over. We must free the king.”
“My brother wouldn’t want—”
“Damn what he wants!” shouted another voice.
“He’s our king. We can’t allow him to be held captive,” said another.
Ravenna could feel Leita’s shaking breath on her clammy cheek, and the fae woman drew her further into the shadow of the tent. The anger outside swelled, more and more green bodies looming at the entrance.
Asta stood firm, blocking their way. “We’ll think of something. Regroup and see to the injured.”
“We already know what to do. Hand over the halfling and—”
“That halfling is your queen.” Mattias shoved through the crowd to come and stand alongside Asta. “She is your king’s mate. You will respect that.”
More grunts and arguing, but, eventually, the crowd outside dispersed. Asta and Mattias remained at the entrance, though, wary to let down their guard.
