Page 104 of With Wing And Claw

Thysandra did not notice those clever little hands moving until nimble fingers curled around her own.

‘You should come inside.’ Naxi’s voice trembled slightly. ‘You’ve been thinking about terrible things for long enough now. Time to have a little fun before they make you sit through that terrible feast as well.’

Fun.

Her bones were much, much too heavy for fun. ‘I don’t think I should—’

Naxi rolled her eyes. ‘Sashka.’

Oh gods. ‘Yes?’

‘It’s really for the best if you come inside with me. I’mthisclose to making my way to Faewood’ – her voice faltered briefly as her gaze dropped to the world below – ‘and win the hunt myself by killing all of the others participating. So if you don’t want me to turn your festival into a massacre …’

‘Ah,’ Thysandra said with a feeble attempt at a smile. ‘Blackmail and bribery again?’

Something tense flickered in Naxi’s face. Just for the blink of an eye, then it was gone, and her fluttering lashes were as persuasive as they’d ever been.

‘If it works?’ she sweetly said.

It shouldn’t work.

But hounds were howling down in Faewood, fae voices were clamouring their favourites’ names, and she was so fucking tired of days spent on the brink of war. Naxi’s fingers were soft against her palm. Soft like her lips. Soft like every other delicious inch of that little demon body: frail limbs, slim hips, pert breasts that fit perfectly in the palm of a hand—

‘That’s more like it,’ Naxi murmured, tugging at her arm.

Blackmail and bribery.

But Thysandrafollowed her inside.

Choosing a dress for the feast felt like picking the sharpest sword from a well-stocked armoury – like an act of war in itself. She postponed it until the sunset painted the world outside in shades of scarlet and the blaring of the horns approached the castle again; now, she knew, her absence would soon be noted.

And questions would be asked.

Telling the court she’d spent all day escaping the threat of violence – that she’d been busy eating marmalade buns on the bed and kissing soft, pink demon lips over and over again – was unlikely to go over well. Somehow, she suspected the rational, sensible explanation of securing loyalty might not make much of an impression.

She did not allow herself to wonder what that said about the explanation.

The dress she selected, finally, was one she hadn’t worn in decades – a dress the Mother had acidly calledunremarkablelast time she’d worn it, and which she’d stashed away in the back of a wardrobe later that night. It was simple, admittedly. No glittering jewels or intricate embroidery; no bright colours or scandalous cuts. But the fabric … it felt like woven shadows in her fingers, a red so dark it seemed black, showing the glowing sheen of its true colour only when it rippled and caught the light.

Shehad never thought it unremarkable.

And damn it all, she had no one left to serve.

As she dressed herself, Naxi lay sprawled out on the bed, idly picking sticky crumbs off her bare chest as she ogled Thysandra and cooed words of approval. Which was not markedly different from what she’d been doing the rest of the day … and yet, with the armour of that dress in place, it was suddenly hard to endure it, that unabashedsoftness.

‘Perhaps you should be getting dressed, too,’ she said as she buttoned the slits beneath her wings.

Naxi pulled a face. ‘I’m waiting.’

‘What for?’

A shrug was the only reply. ‘Did I tell you your tits look great in that dress, Sashka?’

Thysandra rolled her eyes and turned away, which was of course simply because she needed to find her jewellery box and not at all because she was blushing. Outside, voices were singing. Loud, off-tone voices – it appeared Orthea had not waited to serve the wine until they were all gathered around the tables for the more formal part of the festivities.

Which meant Thysandra would have to face a hall full ofdrunkhunters – quite possibly the only prospect less attractive than facing a hall full of sober hunters.

At least her tits looked great, though.