Page 6

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Everett

“Lethan Wolves can grow up to seventeen hands tall. If you see one, seek shelter as quickly as possible.”

Surviving the Unseelie Lands, Author Unknown

M addox’s legs swing off the side of the bridge, dangling into the canyon. “How far down do you think it goes?”

“Who the fuck cares?” Gryffin mutters, poking the end of his sword into the fire, sending sparks swirling into the fog.

“I the fuck care,” Maddox shoots back, collecting one of the stones from the pile beside him and launching it into the void of nothingness that lives between our world and theirs. The Seelie fae . A bunch of colorful, smiley bastards who love nothing more than to show off their flat, useless teeth and their sprawling gardens.

The only thing that grows wild out here is death and despair.

And wolves.

It has been years since one of the monsters that used to roam freely in these forests has been spotted. Still, we remain ever vigilant. It is either that or die.

I would rather be gutted by some wolf’s snarling maw than expire due to decay.

The flames dance higher into the mist when Gryff stabs a blackened log. “I wish he would stop throwing those damn rocks.”

Something soars over my head, hitting Gryff square between the eyes. He leaps to his feet, his muscles coiled, and his teeth bared in a growl.

Maddox does not even have the good sense to stand and meet his fighting stance. “Awe, is the big, scary fae going to hurt me?”

“Fuck off. Both of you.” We are not here to piss around. We are here to do a job. A job we cannot do if they keep snarling at each other.

When a stone hits my back, I do not budge. I would sooner launch myself into the canyon than give in to Maddox’s attempts to rile us. The man bores too easily for this position. He really should try tanning hides or join the barterers on their treks to the other Unseelie territories.

An idle Maddox is a menace, indeed.

“You need to lighten up, Ever. Would not want that pretty face of yours to end up in a permanent scowl like poor Gryff’s.”

Gryff drops back onto one of the flat stones encircling the fire with a huff, stabbing a little harder, no doubt picturing Maddox’s grinning face in the flickering orange and red flames. Of all the males in our clan, Gryff is the one I would not cross. Maddox must not have a brain in his head because he does not have the same reservations.

Another one of Maddox’s rocks is launched into nothingness, vanishing without a sound. “Have you given Leah Locke an answer yet?”

I nudge what remains of a femur with the toe of my boot, scooting it back into place with the rest of the bones lining the path. “Not yet.” If it were up to me, I would never respond. Maybe if I leave it long enough, she will forget she asked me in the first place.

Maddox tosses the next stone into the air, catching it once more without even looking at the thing. “Do me a favor, will you? Let her down gently so she does not hate the rest of us by association.”

Gryff snorts. “Like Leah Locke would ever consider mating with the likes of you.”

This time when the stone comes, Gryff is ready, snatching it from the air before it strikes his forehead. A rare smile crosses his face before his favorite expression of utter disdain for everything and everyone returns.

Maddox grins, his teeth a vicious flash of white in the darkness. “Who said anything about mating? I just want to bring her to my barrel-top, bend her over, and?—”

I pick up the biggest rock I can find and throw it at his exasperating head.

Maddox rolls in the nick of time, and the stone cracks against the edge of a plank before vanishing into the abyss. “You bastard. That almost hit me.”

“You should not talk about females like that.”

He blinks at me, his brow furrowing. “Why not? Wren likes it.”

Gryffin grabs another log from the pile we gathered, adding it to the top of the fire. “That is not what Ivan says.”

“What does that mean?”

Stab. Stab. Stab. “Sounds like a question for Wren. I heard she proposed to him last night.”

“Fuck off. She did not.” Maddox looks to me for the truth.

“I am afraid he is right. When I saw her this morning, she bore his mark.” There is sure to be an announcement soon.

My stomach grumbles with hunger; the venison we had for dinner was not nearly enough to keep me sated. I retrieve a piece of dried jerky from my pack and bite off a chunk, but the peppered seasoning burns the shit out of my tongue.

This is the last time I let Gryffin make the food.

Maddox catches a handful of stones and chucks them into the void. “Well, that is a knife to the bollocks…”

Flickering firelight dances in Gryff’s eyes when they meet mine from over the fire. “Maddox is right, though. You should let Leah Locke down easily.”

I love that the two of them think me completely heartless. Leah has been my friend since we were children. I am hardly going to make her feel like shit because she had the terrible idea to choose me as her mate. “Who says I will not accept?” Binding myself to Leah might finally silence the whispers that follow wherever I go.

Maddox’s hoot of laughter makes my teeth grind. “No offense, but the orphaned son of the village pariah does not belong with the chieftain’s daughter.”

I would take offense if it were not true. I have done everything possible to shed the humiliating titles earned through no fault of my own. Trained harder. Volunteered for the most dangerous hunting expeditions. Stood guard day in, day out, doing my duty to my people.

Mating with Leah is my chance to finally make everyone see me for who I am and not as my parents’ mistake.

The problem is that I feel nothing for the woman beyond friendship.

While that might be enough for most of the males of our clan, I am not sure it is enough for me. Especially when my mother’s final words ring in my ears every night before I go to sleep and every morning when I wake.

“Find love, Ever. Promise me that you will settle for nothing less.”

I made the promise, not knowing how difficult it would be to keep.

We are warriors created to survive the harshest conditions. Trained to kill.

Love is not meant for our world.

Maddox picks up another stone, tossing it into the air once before drawing his arm back and?—

A distant sound pricks my ears.

“Wait!” I hiss.

Maddox freezes mid-throw.

Gryff straightens, his head turning this way and that before he falls still. “Voices.”

I nod. The sounds are not coming from the forest or the well-worn path along the canyon. I point toward the bridge. “Across the canyon.”

By the sounds of it, there are multiple Seelie. Male and female.

Gryffin grabs the bucket of silty sand, dumping it over the fire. Smoke dances from the ground, curling into the air before melting into the fog.

One moment, Maddox is on the bridge, the next, he is beside me, searching the ground for the one thing he should know better than to leave behind. “Where the fuck is it?” he hisses, combing the stones surrounding the fire.

Gryffin sidles up next to me, his dagger in one fist and his short sword in the other while Maddox scrambles and digs around in the darkness. “Which one of you bastards took my dagger?”

Gryffin shakes his head. “When he finds it, I am going to murder him with it.”

Maddox leaps to his feet and shoves Gryff’s shoulder. “That is my dagger. Give it back, shit bag.”

“This is my fucking dagger. You left yours in the doe.”

Maddox glances toward what is left of the deer we killed earlier this afternoon. Sure enough, the bone handle protrudes from between its ribs. He sprints over to free the blade, cleaning it on his trousers as he stalks back to where we wait.

Technically, our job is not to keep out the Seelie fae. Unlike us, they are welcome to cross the bridge any time they please. Fortunately, they usually have the good sense not to.

It would seem tonight, that is not the case.

Gryffin nods at the swaying planks. “They are crossing.”

I withdraw my own dagger, the hilt smooth and familiar in my grip. We might not be able to keep them out, but we can sure as hell scare them shitless so they never want to come back.

Maddox bounces on his toes, tossing his dagger from one hand to the other.

A shadow appears in the mist. A lone male. Short. Broad shouldered.

Foolish .

Maddox cups his hands around his mouth and lets out a blood-curdling howl. The figure freezes. Gryffin catches a handful of discarded bones by our boots and launches them toward the intruder. The Seelie lets out a shrill yelp, turns tail, and runs back across the bridge, his footsteps stomping until he hits the dirt on the other side.

We follow him to the edge of the curling mist, ensuring those who linger think twice before crossing the canyon again.