He’s wounded. There’s no way he can take on two wolves alone.
This is it. We’re going to die.
A sharp whistle pierces the gloom.
The wolves’ pointed ears twitch, and their heads turn toward the noise.
A streak of brown sails through the air, hitting the closest beast dead in its eye. The mammoth wolf collapses where it stood, twitching twice before falling still. The other one takes off running, its bushy tail slamming into the brush, the snap of limbs and thud of paws vanishing into eerie silence.
Maddox struggles to his feet, and I try to help him, but he’s too heavy and?—
There’s another whistle. Closer. A fae stands before us, a curtain of shiny black hair falling over a very bare, very green, verybuxomchest.
The fae at the bottom of The Divide isn’t a man.
It’s an Unseelie woman.
33
“Unseelie women are more dangerous than wolves.”
— Nia Quill, An Observation
The fae has another arrow notched, the gleaming black tip aimed at my heart.
Maddox raises his good arm in surrender, and I do the same, slowly, to keep from spooking her. He snaps three sharp words in a language I’ve never heard before.
Is this how the Unseelie converse with each other?
The way the woman’s head slowly tilts reminds me of the wolves when they heard that whistle.
She barks something in response, gradually lowering her weapon. With sharp, efficient movements, the arrow is returned to the quiver at her back and the bow slung over her shoulder.
I’m still not sure if that means she’s friend or foe, but at least she’s not trying to kill us at present. She stalks forward, closing the distance swiftly with her endless legs. I reach for Maddox, only to be shoved aside by the newcomer. The Unseelie catcheshis hand and draws him upright, the toned muscles in her arm flexing under his significant weight.
Her dark eyes sweep down his blood-drenched body before she steps closer and touches a finger to his wounded shoulder.
His stomach flexes as he hisses out a harsh breath, but he makes no move to stop her. Can’t she see that she’s hurting him?
“Stop that,” I hiss.
Her black eyes swing toward me, narrowing into slits.
The hair at the back of my neck lifts the same way it did when the wolves showed up. I’ve a sinking feeling we might’ve had a better chance of defeating them.
The only clothes she wears are a pair of trousers like the ones Maddox has on and a pair of leather boots.
They converse in that language I don’t know, while I stand around like a child waiting for Mother and Father to stop arguing and tell me what’s happening.
I poke Maddox’s back. “What’s she saying?”
Maddox blinks down at me, like he forgot I was standing next to him. I feel so small andlackingin the face of this Unseelie woman’s fierce expression and terrifying beauty.
Are all their women this stunning? It’s a wonder Maddox even noticed me at all.
He says something to her, which earns a sharp nod. Only then does he respond to my question. “Raven says there is an Unseelie village nearby.”
There’s an entire bloody village down here? What in the hell is going on?
