Five. There should be five. Has to be five.
Still pinned to the ground, Zake whimpers, his hoarse voice forcing itself between the males and me. “Call off your beast. Please. You can have the wench if you want her. A present. A goodwill—”
“Enough games.” Coal pulls out his sword, the steel sighing against the sheath. “I’m putting it down.”
He doesn’t mean the wolf.
I shudder. “Don’t.” My words are a hopeless whisper, but both males and even the wolf snap their heads to me at once, their eyes questioning. As if what I say matters—what I want matters. I take a tentative breath, wondering how far this input of mine will carry. “Zake doesn’t deserve to die.”
“Yes, he does,” says Coal, his words ice. The wolf growls his agreement.
“He does,” Tye says behind me. “But it is your choice to make, lass. We will not touch him if you wish it so.”
My heart pounds against my chest, bruising my ribs. This morning I’d had a say in exactly nothing, and now these immortals, these fae males who could raze or rule the entire mortal world if they wanted to, are placing Zake’s life in my hands. They want to hurt him. But they won’t. For me. “Let him go.” My voice is thin, as if trying to hide itself in case this evening is one big jest. “Please.”
Coal scowls at Zake but sheathes his blade. Tye’s warm breath shudders against my neck. The wolf is the last to obey, snapping his teeth inches from Zake’s eyes before stepping off the prone man, lifting his leg, and urinating.
I clamp my hand over my mouth to bite back a very inappropriate chuckle.
“So you do have a sense of humor,” Tye says approvingly from behind me, wrapping his cloak around my shoulder. I don’t know what the cloak is made of, but it is the warmest thing I’ve ever worn, with thick green woolen cloth and a fur lining that caresses my skin. The smell of pine and citrus fills my nose, matching the scent of the male behind me.
“Get out of here, traitor,” Zake roars at me from the ground. “I always knew you were nothing but a cursed wench, a common wh—”
The wolf leans over him again with a fierce growl and Zake shuts his mouth, but there is no unsaying the words.
I can no longer stay at Zake’s estate, and there is no place for me to go but wherever these immortals take me.
3. Tye
Lera’s hand clamped over her mouth, stifling a chuckle as Shade’s piss soaked the piece of excrement calling itself Zake. Her laughter’s soft vibration echoed through Tye’s body, and for the first time since Lera’s hand had tightened on the pitchfork, Tye felt hope stir in his chest. She might come with them. This ferocious, brave, fragile, beautiful woman might come with them to Lunos. With quint-called fae, there was never a question—once the magic chose its prey, there was no physical resistance one could offer against the need to bond with the quint. But magic seemed to work differently on the mortal lass.
Lera could say no.
And Tye’s heart raced like the wind in terror of that one word. Which was not something the others needed to know. He made himself grin. “So you do have a sense of humor.”
Shade finished urinating and used his back paws to toss a bit of dirt onto the wet form. Zake truly deserved worse, but Tye and his quint brothers would stand by Lera’s word. This was her territory, her conflict, her decision.
Unclasping his cloak, Tye eased the rich green fabric from his back and wrapped it around Lera’s slender shoulders, ignoring Coal’s hard glare. Tye was not marking the female with his scent—the lass was ice cold and it chafed Tye to see her so. Coal might consider freezing to be a character-building exercise, but other sentient beings could certainly disagree.
Plus, whether Lera accepted the cloak or not was likewise her choice.
Tye hid a smile as Lera pulled the fabric around herself, inhaling deeply. Her body softened, the tension in her shoulders easing. Tye’s nostrils flared, savoring the subtle scent of her pleasure. Her other, more dominant scents were already familiar to him. Sweet hay and lilac flower, tinged with something fresh and rich, like ripe berries. Lera’s hair, a warm reddish brown, fell away to expose her neck, which throbbed with her rapid heartbeat. Tye’s cock twitched, his mouth longing to press over the female’s trembling pulse.
“Get out of here, traitor,” the trash on the ground roared, disgustingly oblivious to just how close he was to being put down. “I always knew you were nothing but a cursed wench, a common wh—”
Shade growled. Shade’s wolf was intelligent, but with saturated instincts, he could strike first and fret over it later. Fortunately, Zake proved wise enough to shut up and Coal was already moving to place himself between Shade and the miserable human.
Which left Tye and Lera. “Come, lass,” Tye said softly into her ear as he stepped around to where she could see his face, his skin still tingling from when she’d leaned lightly into him. “River is waiting with the horses.”
“How many of you are there?” Lera asked, looking at Coal. At bloody Coal! Which was just humiliating.
Tye scowled.
“Four,” Coal said brusquely.
Tye held out his hand, reclaiming Lera’s attention. “Five, including you. If we could get moving before River grows cranky, it would be good.”
Lera didn’t move, but she didn’t step away either. Tye could smell her blood’s rapid racing. Of course it was racing. A pack of bloody immortals had just descended upon her life, got her evicted, and were now intending to whisk her away to a place where mortals were not welcome. If not for Zake, Shade, and Coal, Tye would have had an easier time calming the lass.
He stepped toward her slowly, making sure Lera could see each of his movements as he hooked an arm under her knees and lifted her easily against his chest.
The lass’s eyes widened.
“Your legs are short,” Tye declared, adjusting her to fit perfectly against his shoulder as he strode to where River was already mounted, Coal and Shade trailing behind them. “It’s faster this way than waiting for you to walk.”
Lera’s eyes narrowed at him. “I’ve been walking just fine for twenty years.”
“Good to know.” Tye gave her a cocky grin. “Look, that’s the one and only River you asked about. He’s the quint commander, and if you think you see a stick so far up his arse that it’s coming out his nose, then you are right.”
River’s gray eyes glared down at Tye. Sitting atop his stallion, the male wore a tailored dark-blue coat, black trousers, and mirror-shined black boots. His hair, dark brown and cropped close to his head, accentuated his strong back and shoulders as he held two more large stallions by the reins. Yes, River wore an air of command like a cloak—and as far as Tye was concerned, he was welcome to it.
“Hurry up.” River shifted his gaze to the road in front of them, as if he were already halfway down it in his mind, meeting and addressing obstacles that had yet to enter Tye’s imagination. “The mortal rides with Coal.”
“Like hell she does.” Tye’s shoulders tightened and he glared at River, even as he pulled Lera closer to him. The lass had just let Tye handle her, and he wasn’t about to let the moment end so soon. “We—”