Page 61 of Queen of Whispers and Mist

Before he could take advantage of the moment either by molding his lips to hers then and there, or doing something even more barbaric like hoist her over his shoulder and take her somewhere he could peel the clothes from her body and lose himself inside her, a rustling sounded in the trees.

“Did you hear that?” Sebastian asked, twisting around to stare up into the darkened treetops.

Everyone tilted their faces to the sky, but there was little to make out beyond the warm orange glow of their fire. Only the ring closest to them was illuminated, the firelight not strong enough to penetrate the dark any further.

That left them with little to go on beyond what they could hear. And feel.

From the second the rustling started, the hair on the back of Ronan’s neck and arms stood on end, signaling approaching danger. Some might not trust their instinct, but he knew better. With the Mother’s hand so firmly entrenched in his life, there was little doubt this was another extension of her.

A warning.

Something was coming.

“Get up,” he said, his voice pitched low but no less of a command.

There wasn’t time to say anything else, but the others picked up on his intensity. They might not sense what he did, but they weren’t going to question him either. After the last couple of days, their small group had bonded in the way only survivors could. Their trust was innate and absolute.

Bronn was on his feet, body angled protectively in front of his captain. Bast moved so that he was in a similar position in front of Shadow. Recalling the last time they’d fought together, he appreciated the other man’s willingness to defend her, even though Ronan had every intention of seeing to the job himself.

The assassin gave him an arch look, but Bast didn’t budge. She may not require protection, but she’d found herself a new protector regardless.

While this silent showdown took place, the quartermaster let out a low whistle, and the door to Jagger’s cabin silently cracked open. Buttercup flew out, orange feathers rippling and transforming into a muted gray hue, allowing the protector to blend seamlessly into the darkness. Jagger wasn’t far behind, a bundle of weapons in his arms.

Ronan automatically reached for the short sword he’d discovered in the smuggler’s cave and bit off a curse. He’d stupidly left it in the room. A quick glance around confirmed that the others were similarly unarmed. Rookie mistake. They might have found a new base camp, but they were still in a foreign land. They shouldn’t have dropped their guard for even a second.

Thankfully, the boson had them all covered and quickly passed out the scavenged weapons.

“Any idea what it could be?” Bronn whispered, the question aimed at his crewmember. If Ronan hadn’t already seen the connection between Jagger and Buttercup in action, the inquiry might have seemed strange. As it was, he was thankful for the finch’s eyes in the sky and their ability to share what they saw with the blue-haired man.

Jagger cocked his head, listening to something no one else could hear. “Airborne. Coming fast.” One of his brows arched in what must have been surprise. “Shadowmelded.”

A similar look of disbelief drifted across Calypso’s and Sebastian’s faces.

“Shadowmelded?” Ronan repeated, the word unfamiliar but sending a trickle of unease along his spine.

“Camouflaged,” the captain explained. “Moving through the air but appearing as nothing more than a dark smudge.”

The explanation was so similar to what he’d seen in the ocean prior to the Lusca attack that Ronan went on high alert. This was no coincidence. They were being hunted.

Shadow seemed to reach the same conclusion. She elbowed Bast behind her, borrowed daggers in hand and eyes trained on the sky.

“Meaning we won’t know what’s coming until it’s too late,” Bast said grimly.

“Or unless you have true sight,” Bronn added, eyes shifting to Buttercup as she returned to her perch on Jagger’s shoulder.

Yet another term Ronan was unfamiliar with, though this one he could guess easily enough. As if confirming his suspicion about the boson, Jagger let out a soft grunt.

“Drake. But like none I’ve ever seen.”

“How so?” Calypso asked, but the time for information gathering was over.

“Incoming,” Jagger rasped.

Right on cue, a shadow slipped across the moon, leaving them with only the flickering flames to illuminate the night. It was impossible to have any sense of the creature’s size, but with the way it seemed to blanket the visible portion of the sky, making the very stars themselves seem to blink out, he was going to assume it was significant. Then again, he’d dealt with creatures no larger than a marmot that caused no end of damage. There was no direct correlation between size and danger, but bigger was rarely better when dealing with monsters.

Ronan had faced off with all manner of beast, but when the creature dropped the magic keeping it hidden, there was no denying the wave of instinctive panic.

Mother have mercy.

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