Page 39 of Wrath of the Fae

My front meets his, and he leans in close. I’m putting all my strength into pushing the blade into him, but he’s not even showing an ounce of effort as he holds it there. I look up at him, seeing him smiling still. Feeling his calm breaths meet my hot angry ones.

‘I have never been so happy having you try to kill me. But if you want to succeed, you need to calm down. An angry fighter is a dead fighter.’

‘Get the fuck off me.’

He pushes me away and straightens up.

‘Come on, Little Bird.’ He wags his damn finger in invitation. ‘Show me what you got.’

‘Not. A. Problem.’

I grit my teeth and attack again, slicing and hacking at him but meeting only air. I hold out my hand and send him flying backwards. He soars through the air as if punched in the gut and lands on his back several metres away. With a sweep of his legs, he’s back up and readying himself for more as I run at him.

Stab.Miss.Jab.Miss.Swipe.

I scream in frustration as he sidesteps and avoids my attacks. The edges of my wings are razor sharp, so I use those, too, bringing them down with speed and formidable force. After three attempts, I finally draw blood. Reid staggers back and holds his bleeding arm with a stunned expression before looking at me with utter admiration and pride.

'That’s my girl. Use everything you have. Keep going, Little Bird,’ he encourages with that grin.

He’s insane!

But I’m happy to oblige.

I beat my wings and hurtle at him with speed and force. He staggers back, eyes wide, as he witnesses their full strength. I slam into him, punching and clawing at him as we repeatedly roll over the stoney ground.

When we stop, I’m atop him, a leg on either side of his waist and my dagger pressed into his jugular. The tip of which pierces his skin enough to have a trickle of red slip past his neck. My wings slam into the ground where his hands lie atop his head in surrender, and he grunts as they pin him down, crucifying him in place. I feel his blood coat my wings. I feel its warmth.

I twist them, tearing his flesh and making him grunt in pain.

But he doesn’t scream, yell, or struggle.

He just looks up at me with shining eyes.

‘Stop smiling,’ I warn, pressing the dagger into him a little more. He winces slightly. ‘I said stop smiling at me!’

‘I can’t help it. The love of my life is alive and full of fire and strength. What the fuck else do you expect me to do?’

‘Die,’ I snarl, feeling angry tears brim in my eyes as I look down at him.

‘Then kill me,’ he replies simply, tilting back his head, showing more of his throat. ‘You won. My life… as ever… belongs to you.’

‘Won…’ I whisper, fighting the furious sobs trying to claw their way up my throat. I scoff a hateful laugh as I say, ‘I won?’

My wings twist again. He flinches as the tears in his palms widen.

He doesn’t say anything. Not a word. But I feel something start to nudge into my backside.

‘Do you seriously have a fucking erection?’

‘Stop being so irresistible, and I’ll stop being so turned on.’

‘I have a knife to your throat.’

‘Saying that isn’t helping.’

‘What are you doing here, First Kingdom shit stain?’

‘It’s good to hear your crass insults again-’

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