I tugged the other dagger from the scabbard at my waist, muscles poised to move. Then another terrestrial stepped into the light.
“Quite a little morsel you’ve found yourselves,” Barkke said laconically. My heart beat out the question—friend or foe? His mace was in his belt, but he made no move to reach for it.
The smaller of the two males turned, baring his teeth at the much larger male. “She’s ours. Find your own elemental to taste.”
Barkke was, understandably, unimpressed. He was twice the other male’s size. “Did your mother never tell you bedtime tales about the Faeries of the Fen? She’s no elemental.”
“She has fire,” the bigger one said. He was the one climbing atop the stones, trying to reach Isolde. Who, for her part, was not quivering at bit. No, she was spitting like a cat up there in the rafters, brandishing her claws.
“There will be repercussions for this,” Barkke said, flicking his emerald gaze up to Isolde. But it did not quite sound like a warning. More like advice—like he was telling his fellow terrestrials to do what they must, but be prepared for the consequences.
Barkke would be harder to kill. And I might even regret it, because he was a friend of Arran’s. But I could not suffer a powerful warrior like him to live.
The big male jumped, nearly reaching Isolde’s foot. She tugged it up, white eyes darting around for a way out. I saw her realize what I already had—she’d gotten away, but only temporarily. Eventually, they would reach her, and she was backed into a corner.
“I have heard the tales,” the female terrestrial said, her voice dripping with poison. “Her kind are little more than animals.”
Above them, Isolde hissed.
I had known, but I’d let myself forget. As I’d become close to Arran, accepted Gwen as my Goldstone, became friends with Osheen and adored Maisri, I’d forgotten the truth. The terrestrials hated us. We hated them.
And without Arran standing at my side, unified and strong and in command, they saw me as no more than an elemental interloper. And Isolde, by extension, as prey.
A stupid, stupid mistake.
But not as big as theirs.
My fingers twitched around my dagger, eager to be coated with their blood. But before I could move, Barkke did. The crunch of the spiked flanges of his mace against the male’s skullreverberated against the walls. Another swing, and the male’s head was on the ground.
I did not give the traitors a second to retaliate.
If Barkke was surprised by my sudden appearance, he did not show it. He did not even pause his next swing as he said, “Welcome to the fray, Majesty.”
My reply was the spurt of terrestrial blood as I slashed my dagger over the female’s throat.
Lyrena was there a few heartbeats later, drawn by the commotion. But there were no terrestrials left to fell. She took quick stock of the situation, the bodies on the ground, and climbed upon the pile of rocks to help Isolde down.
“Hissing like an animal was a nice touch,” Barkke complimented with vague amusement when the white faerie was on solid ground once more.
She hissed again through her pointed teeth. “They did not deserve my regard.”
I choked back an unhinged laugh and crouched down so I could speak directly to her. “Are you all right?”
Her white skin was unmarred, her braids wild but intact. If she’d had any wounds, she’d already healed them herself.
“They wanted to draw out their fun. Hurting me too soon would have spoiled it.” Isolde inclined her head, white eyes glistening in the torchlight. “Thank you for coming for me, Majesty.”
I reached for her hand, undeterred by the sharp claws, and held it tight. The dark centers of her pupils expanded in surprise, but she did not pull away. I held her hand while I counted the pulsing beats of her heart, letting my frayed nerves realize that she truly was all right.
When I straightened, my heartbeat had slowed to calm again. But the rage within me was hot. I kicked aside the terrestrials to make room for us to walk out.
Maybe I should have shown mercy. Left them injured but alive. Killing them like this was going to elicit a reaction, and I doubted it would be positive. But the terrestrials owed me their allegiance—and I would punish any who withheld it.
Arran would have known—who to kill, who to leave alive, how to spin it as an act of strength rather than wrath. But I was doing this alone, now.
Lyrena led Isolde back toward the exit. I inclined my head to Barkke. He lifted his fist and placed it over his heart—a sign of respect between terrestrial warriors. Arran had described it to me. Even in these small moments, I could not separate myself from my mate.
I lifted my own fist to my heart.
