Chapter 7

7

BLAZE

I swing my ax with lethal efficiency at my foe—a tall, willowy Summer fae with braided blond hair and a trimmed mustache.

The blade lodges in his neck, and I watch with grim satisfaction as blood gurgles in his mouth and cascades down his chin.

He will die.

Everyone here will die.

Runt—the irritating pacon who led me here in the first place—lunges at another warrior and slices at her with his claws. Though the creature doesn’t even reach my knees in height, he’s still a formidable opponent on the battlefield, capable of wielding his claws and teeth like knives.

That’s not to say I necessarily like Kassandra’s pet. He’s nothing but a means to an end—the end being my mate. In my arms. Under my body. Hell, even on top. I don’t usually allow the female to lead, but with her, I’d be more than willing.

I just need to get to her.

Runt’s keen sense of smell led us here, deep within the Summer Court and into a tiny village barricaded by sandy dunes. The coloring of the fae here indicates that they’re members of the overrun Summer Court, but that doesn’t explain how they survived…nor how they managed to create an entire civilization.

More than likely, they’re refugees who escaped the brutal slaughter of their people instigated by the Day and Night Courts.

And right now, they’re holding my mate hostage.

For that, they have to die.

Something sharp pierces my stomach.

I stare in dismay at the arrow protruding from my abdomen. Blood wells from the wound and pools in a red puddle at my feet. Slowly, I remove the arrow and toss it aside. Then, I turn towards the idiot who dared to attack me.

The tiny fae trembles where he stands a short distance away. Sweat beads on his forehead and drips into his green eyes. He clumsily attempts to notch another arrow, but he’s too slow.

With a roar, I race forward and grab the pathetic excuse of a fae. I slam his forehead against the wall of the nearest hut once, twice, three times. Only when I’m positive he’s unconscious do I move on to my next victim.

Runt continues terrorizing the fae while I search the gathered crowd for either Calan or Kassandra. I don’t know which one I want to see more.

Calan? Perhaps. I certainly want to rip his head clean from his shoulders.

But…no. Even my need for vengeance doesn’t overwhelm my desire to ensure that Kassandra’s safe. I need to see her. Breathe in her citrus scent. Hold her.

“ENOUGH!” a feminine, strident voice bellows. A tick later, a short female with wispy blonde hair and an angular face steps on a wooden crate, adding much-needed height to her short frame. Her eyes zero in on me. “What is the meaning of this, Blaze?”

Blaze.

Not Prince Blaze.

Not Your Highness.

I grit my teeth together at her blatant disrespect.

I may not be in my kingdom, but I’m still a Gaiadamn prince.

She’ll do well to remember that.

“Where. Is. She?” I don’t recognize my voice. It’s abnormally low, almost a growl.

I take a single step forward, brandishing my ax.

The female’s eyes narrow. “This is not the way to get what you want. Haven’t you ever heard of asking nicely?”

I bare my teeth at her, already envisioning ways I can end her pathetic life once and for all.

Runt makes a strange yipping noise and then jumps on my shoulder. His sharp claws dig into my flesh, and I have to hide my wince.

Fucking pacon.

I swear he does this just to irritate me.

The pacon releases another keening noise, and I momentarily pull my attention off of the blonde fae to focus on the annoying beast. He bites down on my ear hard enough to draw blood and then jerks his chin towards the smallest building—nothing but roughly hewn logs that have begun to fade in color from the consistent and overwhelming sunlight.

The damn pacon doesn’t need words for me to understand.

Kassandra is there.

In that hut.

Everything fades away—the bodies littering the ground, the glaring female fae, the puddles of blood, the pain in my stomach and shoulder. The knowledge that Kassandra is here nearly brings me to my knees.

Once I get her back, I won’t let her out of my sight. Not now. Not ever.

I turn in that direction instantly, dismissing the female fae without a word. She’s not worth my time.

Or my blade.

I’m not sparing her life because I suddenly gained a conscience or anything as absurd as that. There are simply more important things to do.

“STOP!” the fae bellows, but I ignore her.

I move towards the entryway, preparing to duck in order to step inside, when a tiny figure barrels into me. I instinctively place my hands on her shoulder to steady her, and once I come into contact with her smooth, porcelain skin, I never want to let her go.

Kassandra.

Little beast.

Mate .

All coherent thoughts leave me. Flee. Vanquish. I pull back just enough to stare into her perfect, heart-shaped face.

Plush, pink lips.

Brilliant-blue eyes framed by dark, sooty lashes.

Golden hair falling in perfect waves around her.

I grab a fistful of those luscious locks and tug her face to me. Just before our lips can meet, something moves between us.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” I roar as Runt swipes a claw at my face, causing me to stumble backwards a step and release Kassandra.

The pacon immediately jumps into Kassandra’s arms, and she cradles him against her chest like a newborn baby. I swear the fucker places his head against her breast and throws me a smug-ass grin.

Damn pacon.

Tears glimmer in Kass’s eyes as she strokes his tiny head directly between his horns. Runt’s body shakes with contentment, and low, rumbling sounds emit from him that have me seeing red.

I’m going to murder that pacon one of these days. You mark my words.

“Kassandra,” I bite out, wanting her attention back on me. I need it more than I need air to breathe.

Her brilliant-blue eyes latch on to my face, and the unshed tears I saw before fall over. She moves towards me, and this time, there’s no hesitation as I pull her into my arms.

Runt snipes and growls at me, but I ignore the fucker as I move even closer to Kassandra, squishing the damn creature between us.

“Kassandra… Little beast…” I murmur as I inhale her unique, citrus scent.

Emotions I never felt before barrage me from every direction.

Adoration.

Respect.

Love.

It’s the last one that steals the breath from my lungs.

Love.

Do I…love Kassandra?

Does a monster like me even know how to?

“We need to talk,” I say, pulling away once more so I can stare into her eyes. “Are you hurt? Where’s Calan? Why are you here?—?”

She cuts me off by waving her hands in the air.

Slowly, giving me ample time to interpret her hand movements, she signs, “Yes. We need to talk.” She turns towards the tiny female I noted earlier. “Fae, is there a place where we can have privacy?”

Fae?

The female’s name is Fae?

Who the fuck would name their child Fae? It’d be like naming the damn pacon Pacon.

The female’s lips purse, and she narrows her eyes at me. “It’s Fae With a Y, you murderous psycho.”

A growl reverberates through me, and I take an instinctive step towards the bitch?—

When a tiny hand wraps around my wrist, pulling me to a stop.

And Gaia help me, I’m helpless to resist her.

Kassandra shakes her head, and I scowl.

I can’t allow that disrespect to go unpunished. Fae have been killed for less than that. However, if my little beast wishes for me to stay with her, then so be it.

Besides, it’s not as if I did anything wrong. Fae With a Y has no room to judge. I didn’t even murder any of her soldiers. Only maimed them.

Probably.

Though there is an abnormal amount of blood…

“Take the spare cabin.” Fae With a Y sniffs and points towards a small building a short distance away. Cabin is definitely too generous of a term. It’s nothing but twigs, leaves, and a few loose stones. “It was intended to be yours anyway for the time being.”

“Thank you,” Kassandra signs, tugging at my hand.

I motion for her to go ahead, and when she begins to walk away, I quickly grab the pacon by the scruff of his neck.

He hisses and claws at me, but I simply smirk at the dumb creature and move towards a well I noted earlier. Glancing inside, I decide that it’s not too deep of a drop. The pacon will survive the fall.

But would it really be a shame if he doesn’t?

Runt begins to struggle in earnest now—no doubt knowing what I intend—but I simply smile smugly and toss the annoying pest into the well. He lands with an ”oomph” at the bottom, kicking up water.

Fae With a Y stares at me, appalled.

I bare my teeth at her but then decide she’s not worth my time.

I have a mate to attend to.

And once I’m through with her, she’ll never want to leave my side again.