Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae #1)(96)

“Well…” Steve drawled, making a show of twiddling his thumbs. Roger kept his irritation from showing. Barely. “As soon as the warrior fae learn you’ve got one of theirs, they’ll come looking. Luckily, they’ll knock. If the elves find out…well, they don’t knock.”

“Thank you, Steven, for this fascinating glimpse at things I already know.”

Steve grinned. “You’ll have to take her to the warrior fae, eventually. Or else, if you don’t care about forming an allegiance with the fae, you could always let the elves take her. They’d give a handsome reward, I imagine, especially if she’s really an Arcana.”

“If you plan to turn traitor, Steve, I’ll kill you before you can make it to the portal.”

Steve threw up his hands, still sporting that irritating grin. “That’s not what I’m saying, boss. All I’m saying is that the trek from the castle to the Flush can be dangerous. Elves don’t police it as closely as they should. Could be you need someone that is excellent in defense turned offense.”

Roger snorted. “And I assume you mean you?”

“You don’t have anybody better.”

“Why would I entrust her safety to a guy that would drop everything for a nap in the sun?”

“I’ve always wanted to travel the Realm, and I’ve always wanted to bed a fae. This is my chance to do both.”

“Travel the Realm on my dime?”

“All good things to those who wait.”

Roger stared at him for a moment. Steve was right: he was the best in defense turned offense. Male lions, by nature, didn’t put themselves in jeopardy if they could help it, but once they decided to engage, they were a force to be reckoned with. Steve would require a powerful alpha to keep him in line, however. Devon had promise, but he wasn’t there yet.

“Worst-case scenario,” Steve said, “The girl pushes me around, right? She can throw me through a…tree.”

Roger shook his head. “It’s all up in the air right now. First, she and Devon need to heal. After that, I’ll see.”

Steve got up slowly, half stretching as he did so. He scratched his stomach with a grin as he said, “All I’m saying is, if you need bodyguard detail, I’m your man.”

Roger huffed out a laugh as soon as Steve was out of the room. He was a handful, plain and simple, but he was a good guy. More importantly, he was a pack guy who could navigate the wilds. Tempting.

Roger stared down at his papers, thinking.

There was no way he was going to present Charity to the Flush unless they were a hundred percent sure of her heritage. Right now there weren’t many other options, but still. He’d hate to make a fool of himself. That meant taking a trip to Charity’s family house and trying to locate her mom.

He had no doubt of what they’d find—he’d seen her fight out there—which led him to his next problem. How would he get her back if they sent her to the Flush to train? She’d suddenly have family, money, and a real sense of community. How many girls turned down a chance to be a princess?

Roger scratched his chin in irritation.

She had the bond with Devon. The best-case scenario would be if that bond turned into love. Given what Roger had heard of the warrior fae and their inclusive community, possibly the only thing that could tear a princess away from her throne was the man who held her heart.

He hoped Devon was up to the task.





Chapter Forty-Three





Devon stirred, followed by a wince. Every part of his body seemed to hurt. That old vamp had beaten the hell out of him. Devon had held his own against a mid-level, but…well, now he knew his own limits.

He flexed his toes, followed by his fingers, making sure everything worked. It was then he felt the small, delicate hand clinging to his.

In a moment of panic, he thought it was Yasmine. She was persistent, and a girl like her would absolutely sit by her alpha’s bed to stake her claim and get in good with her desired mate. Marry the same girl, though, and she’d turn distant in a flash, having gotten what she was after.

Devon let his head fall to the side. An ethereal beauty marred with cuts and scrapes lay next to him. Her hair fell around her face in thick brownish-red waves, her lower lip was swollen, and her cheek was black and blue. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life.

He squeezed her hand, willing her awake. Her breathing was deep and heavy, not like her. Usually, she was an extremely light sleeper who’d stir if he so much as shifted.

“Don’t worry. She’s fine.”

Devon’s gaze snapped to the door. His neck protested painfully at the sudden movement.

Roger stood in the frame dressed in a T-shirt that strained at the shoulders and hung loose at the waist. He didn’t bother coming further into the room.

“How do you feel?” he asked in his customary calm tone.

“I hurt, for the most part, but I’ll be fine. That old vamp was something else. He was… I’ve never seen anything move so fast and react so savagely.”

“Puts hair on your chest.”

Devon wheezed out a laugh. “Exactly. I should be as fuzzy as you.”

Roger’s gaze drifted to Devon and Charity’s entwined fingers. “Girls like to know how you feel about them. They like to know where they stand.”