Page 156 of The Hunt
“How can you possibly love this bloated beanstalk? Her breasts are pathetic. Look at mine.” She tugged down her top to expose her heavy breasts to the brownies.
They both looked their fill, and Wetwhistle’s hand dipped toward his sparkler twice, thankfully never making contact, as he frowned.
“Why can’t I touch my—"
“Please don’t hurt my sister,” Merrifolds cried as she rushed through the window. Sweat dotted her small brow as she struggled to fly level with the extra weight of the baby in her arms. The baby of questionable parentage, if I were to guess.
Taking pity on Merri, I held out my free hand. Protectively cradling the baby, she landed on my palm in a heap. She pulled back the blanket to check on the infant before looking up at me.
“Thank you, Eliana.”
My gaze swept over the brownies. Flushed Piepen. Annoyed Wetwhistle. Tired Merri. Irate Dewy, whose anger intensified as our gazes locked.
“The next words out of your mouth will be the truth, or I will pluck these wings from your back and make you eat them. Am I clear?”
Dewy’s complexion turned more vibrant even as she nodded.
“Who is the father of your child?”
“A lazy, flit of a brownie unwilling to sell his wings to support his offspring.”
Piepen and Wetwhistle looked sick.
“Why are you so stuck on wing-selling?” I asked. “There are other options for support.”
“It’s the creatures that visit the swamp, looking for wings,” Merri said. “They tempt us with promises of wealth. Yesterday’s goblin promised Dewy her weight in gold if she gave him wings.”
A ball of dread settled in my stomach.
“What goblin?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“He calls himself Elbner and has been showing up most mornings before dawn since Piepen arrived,” Dewy said. “I hate your gargantuan face with every fiber of my being. Piepen was mine. He worshiped every word I said until you seduced him. Release my man, homewrecker, and stop giving him your underwear.”
I spared Piepen a sharp, warning glance before focusing on Dewy again.
“Your weight in gold is barely anything. Definitely not enough to raise a kid even if Piepen’s wings were yours to sell. If you want to take the easy path and rob yourself of later opportunity, sell your own wings. Now, speak the name of your baby’s father.”
“Piepen is mine, you hateful hellcat in heat,” she shrieked.
Angry, I brought her closer to my face.
“The name,” I bit out.
She kicked me in the nose. My control snapped.
“Who is the father?” I yelled in her face.
“I am,” Wetwhistle said. “Dewy’s glistening petals lured me in, but I was smart enough to fly after I sparkled. Like Merri said, Elbner isn’t the first creature who’s come around to buy some wings, and I didn’t like the way Dewy kept petting mine while I was drinking her dew.”
I gagged at the imagery of his words, and my anger evaporated with the renewed lust wafting off Wetwhistle.
“Spare me the details.” I looked at Dewy. “And put your chest away. Now the truth is out, and you can go home.”
I released her. Instead of flying for the door, she flew at my eye. I flicked her away and watched her tumble in the air for a moment before she righted herself.
“The Council will hear of this mistreatment,” she railed.
“It looked like self-defense to me,” Adira said from the doorway.
