Page 8 of Insurrection
I didn't like the tone of voice this newcomer took with her though, and I reflexively got to my feet and positioned myself in front of her as I took in the large Reaper before me. He was maybe two inches taller than me and a brute, if I had to describe him. He was definitely not missing any meals or gym sessions.
His black eyes flared with a ring of neon green around them as his own scythe appeared in his hands. The same color flared around his blade as Ama's had, but it didn't extend to his hands. "Who the hell are you? Get away from her."
Something in me unfurled at him speaking to me in a way that suggested I could ever harm a hair on her head. Touching the top of my right hand, which was covered in a black flame tattoo, I muttered, "Ignis."
When I turned my hands over, twin purple flames roared up from my palms, and I narrowed my eyes at the Reaper. "I think it’s you and your disrespectful tone, as if she's a dog to command, who should leave her alone."
I might not have known Ama for more than a few minutes, but I already knew that I wouldn't hesitate to use the skills my parents had beaten into me to protect her.
She was now my little creature. Whether she knew it or not.
Chapter Four
Ama
Holy shiznit. Was Finias seriously standing up for me against Drayven? After like five minutes of knowing meandafter I’d called him a creeper?
All I could do was sit there in shock while tensions rose between the two men, who were now silent and simmering in rage. It was enough to pull me out of my frozen state.
Oh no, this was about to get messy. Time to intervene.
While it was nice to have someone defend my honor, especially someone as delectable as Finias was, I would never be a damsel in distress. I could take care of this on my own.
"Now, now, boys," I tutted as I rose from my seat on the fountain and ran my hand down the dark elf's arm. Moving to stand in front of him, I arched a brow at Drayven and pursed my lips. "The next time you need to speak to me, do so with manners, or else I’ll have no qualms with ignoring you for the rest of my life. Sound good?"
Already sort of was, frankly. But I would truly start ignoring anything he said to me—even at political meetings—if he couldn’t treat me with respect. I wasn’t that sixteen-year-old girl who didn’t have a backbone anymore.
Drayven’s large chest rose as he took in a deep breath, and his nostrils flared at my formal tone. The green of his eyes pulsated before fading to their typical black, and his scythe disappeared with the color. Clasping his hands in front of him, he cleared his throat before responding, "Your father has requested your presence in the meeting room. Apparently they have something to discuss with both of us."
Finias' voice rumbled behind me. "Would that have been so hard to say the first time around?" Okay, I was getting way too turned on by this man standing up for me and demanding manners from Drayven. I clearly needed some space.
I had expected Drayven to quip back with spite, or to perhaps attempt to cut Finias' head off with his scythe, but instead he kept his tone even as he asked, "Ama, would you please accompany me inside? This is important."
Had he just said please? Tome? To little old “you nearly sucked my soul out when I kissed you, so I am going to publicly humiliate you” me? No way.
And yes. I was still bitter. Thanks for asking.
Noticing me glancing around me rapidly to see if the world was ending and pigs were flying, Finias chuckled and asked curiously, "You okay there, crazy?"
True bafflement was etched on my features as my mouth flopped open and I pinned Drayven with a stare. Wait, what if this was an elaborate trick to get me alone and off me? And I didn’t mean “off me” in a good way. There would be no orgasms in my future unless they were by my own hand.
Wait a second. I didn't need to go with Drayven alone.
A smile curled my lips upward as I turned my head to look at Finias. "You said you were here for the open court session and to meet the royals, right? Come with us, and I'll introduce you to the assholes. The royals, I mean. Not their actual ass holes," I fumbled with how awkward that probably sounded.
How obvious was it that I didn’t socialize often?
Drayven was quick to cut in, venom dripping from his judgmental words, "Open court is for other royals only.Hecertainly does not look like he fits those requirements."
Wow. Could we say “judgy”? Anger billowed inside me at Drayven, once again, judging a book by its cover. Even if that cover was a sexy package of tattoos that made Finias’ tall, lean form look fairly intimidating. Really though, why was everyone in this house such an entitled prick? Just because I was a hybrid didn't make me any less than them, and just because Finias was dressed casually and had tattoos didn't mean he was some vagrant here to rob us.
A dark chuckle rumbled from Finias, pulling me from my thoughts as I glanced into his beautiful violet eyes. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the deadly calm expression in his eyes. They practically begged Drayven to push him over the edge and give him an excuse to enact all the wonderfully violent thoughts I could see running through them.
Gone was the man who had joked about sharing butt warmth just a few minutes ago, and in his place was...someone who would burn the world down without a second thought. And call me crazy, but it turned me right the fuck on.
It was a completely sound conclusion that I had some serious problems.
Finias shocked me by reaching out and pulling me gently into his side, rubbing circles on my shoulder that made me wish I could burn this leather jacket off. I wanted to feel his touch on my skin. "And, pray tell, what do I look like, pretty boy? Because I can assure you that you don't have the slightest idea."
