Page 37 of Atop the Faerie Throne
Wolfie pounces over my head, and I barely resist the urge to reach up and tickle his wickle fluffy belly. Nope. Bad Lore. No time for petting furry beasts.
The snake has cleared a path, and Rose is going for it, the rest of us keeping up with her…
Except for Caed. He’s still facing off against his father. Or trying to. The rest of the warriors are only too eager to defend their king.
“Hey, blue! The party’s this way.”
He needs to move before the king realises we’re out of range and Bree probably can’t mute the bastard.
One minute I’m fighting through mud, cursing the iron poisoning for making blinking impossible, and then it all just gets… easier.
Power swirls through me, sluggish at first, but growing steadily stronger until I can blink again. The iron I undoubtedly inhaled fades to insignificance as Danu herself kisses my lungs better.
Blink, stab. Blink, stab.Ooh!An artery.
The blood is flowing so beautifully, hitting my cap, soaking my face. My cock hardens painfully at the thought of how pretty Rose will look coated in all of this carnage. Wearing nothing but the blood of all the enemies I’ll slaughter for her as she shakes and moans on my prick?—
A sword very nearly cuts off said perfect specimen of manhood before I can gather my wayward thoughts.
Oops. Getting ahead of myself. Fight first. Fuck later.
Thirteen
Rhoswyn
My throne has never felt smaller than it does right now. The iron-induced dizziness is making everything harder than it needs to be. It doesn’t help that the moss is slick—or maybe that’s just the blood coating my boots—and I cling to the woody branches above me for dear life as I balance on one armrest and desperately funnel magic from Danu to my mates.
I give them everything I have, pouring from the Goddess who—despite my precarious position—is still so distant in my chest. They’re injured. They need me, and I fight harder to grab hold of my connection to Danu, putting my all into drawing more magic.
Her power might be slow to come to me, but it flows like lightning down my mating bonds. There’s no searching for them or struggling to send them magic like there was before. They’re just there, right where I need them.
I sense them—I know exactly when one needs more from me than the others—and I give it freely. Mating has made this all so natural, easier than breathing.
There’s just one problem.
Me.
I’m the bottleneck between Danu’s immense power and my mates. It could be that there’s still traces of iron on my skin or simply that the land around Elfhame is just too polluted for me to pull from her like I need to.
Either way, taking from the Goddess consumes my rapidly diminishing focus. I don’t even notice my eyes have slipped closed until aclangof metal jolts them open again, followed by the brush of fur against my legs.
The Fomorians are surrounding the throne in a tidal wave of violence. There are too many of them, and I almost fumble my grip on the magic before I remember I can do something about this.
Prying my attention from the bond to Danu, I take a deep breath and let it out on a shout.
“Enough!”
Unfortunately, I didn’t anticipate how loud yelling while Danu is literally writhing in my veins would be. Ears ringing, I flinch as a hundred grey eyes snap to me.
Shit. Well, I started this. Better hope I didn’t accidentally deafen them. Their expressions—originally confused—quickly morph to fearful and wide eyed, and it’s then that I finally realise they’re scared ofme.
“Pleasestop fighting.”
It’s all I can come up with in the moment, and I realise my mistake a second later when swords drop and Fomorians start to flee. Some even jump for the windows, spilling out into the gardens.
Shit! They’re definitely going to summon reinforcements.
Those who were too involved to meet my eyes battle on, but they’re in the minority, for now. The retreating Fomorians create a new layer of chaos, crushing my mates in their haste to flee.
