A failure, and utterly unworthy of her.
But before I can get any of the words out, a voice calls through the trees.
“Who’s there?”
Both our heads snap toward the sound, and a moment later a guard steps into the clearing. He’s wearing the insignia of the court and carrying an impressively large crossbow. I step quickly between the guard and Seren, shielding her with my body and wings.
“Court visitors,” I say, clearing my throat.
“All the way out here?”
I scowl at him. He scowls back.
Apparently everyone in the realm is sick of my shit tonight.
“We were just about to head in.”
His scowl doesn’t waver as he jerks his head back toward the court’s entrance. “Off with you, then.”
I reach for Seren’s hand, but she brushes me off and steps around me.
The guard’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open. “A witch?”
Bewildered, Seren looks from me to the guard and then back again. “Uh, yes?”
He takes a half-step forward, looking at my mate as if she’s some sort of prize he might claim. “I didn’t think there were any new Crescent witches due to come to court.”
Still befuddled, Seren shakes her head slowly. “Not a Crescent witch. And this is an unplanned visit, sorry.”
“Of course,” he says quickly, all smiles now that he’s dealing with this realm’s newest fascination. “And no apologies needed, my lady. The court is always open to human visitors.”
Witch visitors, he means. Witches who have come to this realm and found their demon mates in droves. It’s been all the talk these past few months, and everyone wants to get a glimpse of the new, soft, lovely creatures in our midst, hoping they’ll be blessed by the Goddess.
That suspicion is confirmed when he inhales deeply as we walk by.
Scenting her.
My growl is instinctive and immediate, earning me a confused stare from Seren and another scowl from the guard.
I couldn’t care less.
He should know she’s spoken for.
With a hand in the middle of my witch’s back, I guide her further down the path toward the entrance to the court. She doesn’t pull away this time, but whether she’s less angry at me or just unnerved by the entire situation, I can’t say.
“What was his deal?” Seren glances back over her shoulder.
I stride determinedly ahead, fighting down the instinct to place a hand on her chin and keep her eyes on me.
Goddess above, I don’t deserve her, and yet I still feel like a half-feral beast at the idea of anyone else having her.
“Witches are… still a novelty in this realm.”
Seren snorts. “Yeah. In other realms, too.”
I don’t like the thought of that, either. I don’t like imagining some troll or some elf or some ogre leering at her just like that guard.
But everything is muddled, a mess. Our conversation is unfinished, and I don’t know where we stand.
