Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae #1)(91)

“What? Is that not funny anymore?” Andy put his hands in the air. “I’m always the last one to know things.”

Rod looked back and forth between a silent Charity and the brooding alpha. His gaze fell to the ground when Yasmine walked in. Her blonde hair was done in loose curls, falling to her mid-back. She’d put on light makeup and wore yoga clothes, perfectly outlining that excellent physique.

The scorching look Yasmine gave Devon fired up Charity’s craving to kill something.

“Right, I’m going to go…change,” Charity said. She needed a long, hot bath and a new place to live.

“You’re coming back, right?” Rod whined. “When can we take out the meat?”

“Running away?” Devon asked in a light, unaffected voice, cutting past all her defenses and stabbing her heart.

“I’m not running anywhere,” Charity said in a cool tone. “I’m simply going to put on some of the new clothes I bought. You know, to fix myself up. Isn’t that what you said? Obviously, I look like a dump and you’re offended to have me in your sight.”

He straightened. “That’s not what I meant.” His tone was angry. As usual.

“Isn’t it? Then, pray tell, what does ‘take some of that money and fix yourself up’ mean to an intelligent jackass such as yourself?”

“Yikes,” Dillon said, shrinking against the far wall. He had a girlfriend, so he was schooled in what not to say.

“That’s one way to make enemies, I suppose,” Andy murmured.

“Don’t you dare talk to the alpha like that,” Yasmine said, and crossed her arms over her chest.

Charity’s red-hot gaze swung that way, her logic on hiatus. “Who’s going to stop me? You? Let me guess, you’re going to shoot lasers out of your mostly exposed tits.”

Yasmine’s face turned red. Macy’s jaw dropped open.

“That would be so sweet,” Andy said. “I’d be down for a set of those.”

“Enough, all of you,” Devon barked. The wolves cowered, the ruthless power and command in Devon’s voice enough to remind them of their rank.

Charity waved him away. “You’re not my alpha. Stick it up your ass.”

She started to walk from the room, but Devon grabbed her arm and swung her back around.

“You need to relax,” he said. “You are freaking out over nothing.”

Dillon covered his face with his hand. Macy gasped.

Way to work a girl up rather than calm her down.

That yawning chasm inside Charity spilled out more lava. The world went hazy for a moment before it solidified in crystal clarity. Anger and rage seethed inside her, fueled by embarrassment and hurt from the foolish things he kept saying.

Uncertainty and vulnerability curdled into something unspeakably volatile. The strange hum in her body exploded.

She connected a punch to his solar plexus. Surprise spread over his face as he was blasted backward. Clearly he hadn’t seen that coming.

That made two of them.

But whatever she’d tapped into felt great. It was a high unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Wild and unruly, her hands shot out faster than lightning, connecting blows that would cripple a human.

He wasn’t human.

He blocked a kick and then a punch, apparently unsure whether he should engage.

“Fight back, bro, she’s on fire,” Andy yelled.

Devon blocked another punch but didn’t realize it was a decoy, and got a kick to the thigh. He stumbled backward, out of the kitchen and into the sitting room. The failing light from the sliding glass door framed him. And then he took Andy’s advice.

He hammered two fists at her midsection, aiming for areas that wouldn’t leave lasting damage. He was faster than fast, almost on par with the mid-level vamps. On some level she knew that, yet it seemed like normal speed to her now.

She swiped a strike out of the way, grabbed his wrist, and yanked. His fall forward turned into a large step. She hammered a punch into his kidney. The wind exited his lungs, but he was already moving. He grabbed her and threw, and she went airborne across the room.

“Yield!” Devon yelled, his voice infused with fire and power.

She hit the wall and fell to the ground. “You yield! I like flying.” Up a moment later, with elation singing through her blood, she crouched. Ready. She was just getting warmed up.

“I’m serious, Charity, yie—”

Charity kicked, missing. A fist sailed past her face. She blocked the next punch and ducked in, slamming her fist into his side. Then she was airborne again. She hadn’t seen that one coming!

A table rolled away as she tumbled to the ground. Why hadn’t the fall hurt more?

She got up slowly this time, noticing he didn’t advance. He was trying to throw her around to get his point across—I’m bigger, stronger, and a superior fighter. I am better than you.

“Yield,” he called, standing straight and tall at the other end of the room. “Or I will make you yield.”

She cocked her head to the side, the hum of her body so loud that she wondered if anyone else heard it. “Let’s see if you like flying, too.”

“Charity, no—”

She pushed her hands toward him. The air compressed, and electricity surged and then exploded from her. The sliding glass door shattered behind Devon and then he flew out, catching the wind like a tumbleweed. Halfway through the flying arc, he twisted and an aura of magic surrounded him. Fur erupted and his teeth grew. He landed on four feet and then shook off his tattered clothes and bits of glass.