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Everett

“The kiss of spring is all it takes to make the winter flee.”

An Unseelie Fable, Author Unknown

I run all the way back to the canyon. The moment I reach the bridge, I slow my pace so the fate that nearly befell Kerris does not claim me as well. If I had not heard her cry for help, she would have fallen to the bottom, never to be seen or heard from again. Dropped like one of those stones Maddox insists on throwing night in, night out.

On my way, I collect the box she brought for me.

Not for me. For whomever she happened to meet.

By the time I step back into Unseelie territory, my anger has been stoked into a flaming inferno. The three males laughing by the fire are about to know the true meaning of rage.

The box Kerris gave me crushes in my trembling hands. “Which one of you lazy shits removed the planks from the bridge?”

They stumble to their feet, but no one has the bollocks to fess up. Figures. These fools think they know everything, yet two of them have never even made their first proper kill.

“No one wants to come forward?” I seethe, vibrating with the force of my temper. It is not only anger boiling beneath my skin but also fear. If I had not been close by?—

One male, with his hair skinned all the way to his scalp, plants his fists on his hips. Even with his spine stiff, he is still a good hand shorter than me. “Why does it matter?” he asks, sneering at the box in my hands.

It matters because I fucking say it matters. “One of the Seelie fae nearly fell into the canyon.”

“So? If you ask me, there are too many damn Seelie anyway.”

No one asked him because he is a sniveling little pissant who is about to have his nose broken.

Kerris did not deserve to die because these fools were too careless and lazy to do their damn job. We watch the bridge, not only to keep the wolves out, but also to track their movements and ensure none of them reach our camp.

That is what I have been doing since this afternoon. One of the lookouts at our northern post thought he saw a wolf prowling through the forest there. The most seasoned hunters set out immediately to search for tracks but found none.

Removing only one or two planks from the bridge would not be enough to keep the beasts from leaping across the gap and plundering the Seelie city. I have seen a wolf jump from one side of a river to the other without getting its fur wet.

“What is your name?” I demand.

“Joseph.”

I cannot wait to see Joseph’s face when he is called before the chieftain for such a catastrophic failure. None of them heard Kerris scream, which makes me wonder where the fuck they were when she fell.

“Those ‘damn Seelie’ allow us access to their well. How do you think you would fare if they found out we failed to protect them and revoked our privileges? Hmmm?” That shuts him up as I knew it would. “What about the rest of you? Does anyone else have an issue with this position? Would anyone else like to take shortcuts and leave their posts?”

All of them shake their heads.

That is what I thought. “If I ever come back here again and find you have abandoned your posts, you will be stripped of your mounts and exiled from camp. Do you understand?”

I wait until every one of them mutters his acquiesce before stalking back to where I left Nyx in a panic. There is no worldly explanation for how I knew the scream had come from Kerris, but in my bones, I knew .

I stuff the box into my saddlebag and stick my foot into the stirrup, my rage still choking me as I kick Nyx into a gallop down the bone-lined path. When I was young, I felt the same as Joseph, not overly concerned for the fae across the canyon.

None of them have ever mattered before.

But this is her .

Gryffin was right all along. The gift was not an offer of courtship, but a request for friendship. I touch the spot where she laid her fingers on my shoulder. I am not certain what I feel for the Seelie fae, but this attraction feels stronger than friendship.

The thought of any harm befalling her makes me want to become Kerris Dawn’s own personal shadow.

I tug the reins before I hit camp, urging Nyx to slow down in hopes that my own hammering pulse will return to normal. When we reach my barrel-top, a dark shape waits on my steps.

The stairs creak as Leah descends and takes the reins from me, tying Nyx to the post. “Why are you back so late? The rest of the hunting party returned well over an hour ago.”

“I stopped by the bridge to check the guard.”

Nyx snorts with satisfaction as Leah pats his wiry black mane, scratching right below his horn just the way he likes. “You cannot keep burning the candle at both ends. At some point, even you need to take a break.”

I dismount on the opposite side from where she stands, clipping my saddlebag so she does not see the white box hidden within. I do not have it in me tonight for another argument. “And I am taking one.” As soon as she leaves, I am going to fall into bed and sleep until noon.

Leah’s hand grazes my thigh as she drifts along next to me. “Perhaps I will take a break with you.”

Can she not see that having her around makes me less inclined to agree to her proposal? “I am tired.”

She sidles closer, “walking” her fingers down my chest to the buckle on my belt. “Then we can sleep until you are not tired anymore.”

I catch her hand before she can unfasten the leather strap. “Go home. I am not in the mood.”

Her hand falls, but her eyes flash. “You are never in the mood.”

Exactly.

And that is part of the problem.