Page 40 of The Silver Spider
Guards appeared on the lawn, swords drawn. Trust fae to bring pointy sticks to a firefight. And since they were swinging at him, he unleashed his tail. The whistling shriek warned an enemy it was about to die right before it crashed into a chest or face. Unfortunately, Amnan still wasn’t quite ready to kill. Until he had confirmation Serephone was inside, and harmed, he could not start a war just because his instincts urged him towards mayhem. And he couldn’t blame the fae for attacking, when he'd crashed through their ward and landed uninvited on their lawn, spewing fire.
He changed his mind when they ringed him in a circle; hands raised, while several others harried his flanks as a distraction. A bubble formed between their hand, a kaleidoscope of translucent colors that begun to contract towards him. At those moves, he began to really fight. Damned if he'd be imprisoned.
But damn his own caution. Maybe he should be more like Hrutha and run head long into situations, consequences be damned. Or like Nuaddan, who killed first and questioned later. Or like his father, who always managed to charm his way out of a difficulty.
By the time he regretted the decision not to come in killing, they'd encapsulated him in a damn rainbow bubble. He twisted, but it moved with his limbs, expanding and contracting as he did. He didn't spit fire—with his luck it would just fill the bubble and fry him instead. The fae backed away, no smugness on grim, elegant faces, and he knew he was in trouble.
Shit. He'd never hear the end of it from Maddugh. And the worst thing was, he still didn’t know what had happened with Serephone. Amnan shifted, uncaring of his own nudity. And roared.
* * *
Serephone heardthe enraged howl from outside the house, the deep chested bellow of an enraged male. "That’s Amnan." Her head whipped towards Dawnthorne. "Did you kidnap him, too?"
Dawnthorne frowned. "No. That would not have been necessary. Let me–ah."
The study door opened and the fae guard with pale skin and curly, dark hair walked in, stopping with a short bow. They spoke briefly, the syllables both liquid and interspersed with harsh, staccato breaks. The guard left and Dawnthorne turned to her.
"It appears your Amnan takes some offense to your having been brought here. We'll speak soon. In the meantime, please refresh yourself. Rooms have been prepared."
He walked towards the door and opened it. Another fae appeared a moment later, a female with a long tail of dark-blonde hair and calm, slanted, gray eyes. Serephone blinked, closed her eyes, and opened them again.
But the same face greeted her. She truly, fully, hated her father.
"Serephone, may I present your half-sister, Anissa? She will escort you to your room." He glanced at Anissa. "Ensure she has everything she needs," he said as the freezing spell faded from Serephone's limbs, "and we will-"
Her magic exploded, every drop of strength she could tear from her insides flinging toward the fae Lord in a massive, silent blow. Nothing elegant, nothing trained. Just a pure, simple bomb of power meant to smash his body into a million tiny pieces.
Howdarehe imprison her?
* * *
Shock rippledthrough his bond with Serephone, Amnan’s knees nearly giving way from the strain. The jolt of her magic as she pulled hard enough that the bonding spell warned him she'd done something incredibly powerful, and incredibly stupid. Stupid because anything so abrupt, and so powerful, meant a backlash. If she was still standing, he would eat his own tail. She must be in danger. Serephone was one of the most level-headed people he knew in relation to her age and experience. Weeks spent watching her during a tense situation, and now days in her company taught him she did nothing based solely off an emotional reaction.
And then she was gone. Not dead, but unconscious, or so weak he could no longer sense her.
"Take me to Dawnthorne," he demanded, raising his hands in the universal signal of surrender.
He needed to get inside the house, and he needed to conserve his strength, because now she would need it more than ever. It was inevitable that the fae Lord now knew exactly how unique his so-called cousin was. And he would want to keep her. Which meant Amnan would have to fight.
The guards surrounded him, a male with night-sky skin and chilly eyes. “Kneel,” he demanded.
Amnan choked down his growl, thinking of Serephone, and went down on one knee, placing his hands behind his back. “Now take me to Dawnthorne.”
