Page 27 of Lana Pecherczyk

Excellent.

“River.” Jasper’s warning carried a hint of a plea. “Take it back.”

“Maybe if you beg.” River’s eyes crinkled. “A king on his knees might be fun.”

“Dad, it’s fine.” Aspen vanished, reappearing fifty paces away by the rose hedges. “It’ll be the easiest coin I’ve ever made. I’ve got plenty of mana left.”

“In case the ‘portal stone up your ass’ bit didn’t give it away, son, he doesn’t care about the coin.”

Aspen snorted. “Dad, he’s a crow. All they care about is their shinies.”

River gasped. “I’m offended.”

“No, you’re not.” Jasper’s eyes beseeched him. Even Aeron’s concern mounted, his hand drifting to the sword against his leg.

“Relax,” River drawled, unclippingPeacemakerfrom his belt. “I’ll only take the tip of his ear off. Aspen’s mother is the best healer in Elphyne. Should only bleed for a little bit.”

“If that weapon leaves your hand…” Fury turned Jasper’s voice to gravel.

Aspen finally picked up the dangerous undercurrent. He stopped bouncing on his toes, his gaze darting between his father and Aeron as River strolled onto the lawn.

River narrowed his eyes at his opponent, then swappedPeacemakerfor a normal dagger. Not that it mattered, but if a less lethal weapon made Jasper feel better, so be it.

“You know, princeling,” River drawled, using the dagger to scrape dirt from beneath his nails, “crows never forget the faces of people who’ve wronged them.”

“So?” Aspen swiped blond hair from his forehead, confusion evident.

“You ever wonder how it’s possible?”

“Good memory?”

“I admit that helps.” River flipped the dagger once, twice. “But that’s not entirely the reason. I’ll give you a hint. It’s the same thing that helps us hunt itty bitty mice scurrying through the forest from way up high.”

Or a sexy rainbow mouse through the markets.

“Good eyesight?”

“That also helps, but sadly, you’re wrong again.”

Aeron’s palm slapped over his face in defeat.

Jasper shook his head. “Enough with the lessons, River. Fine, you win. I’m not fun. How about I get the mana weed out, and we can roll a joint just like old times? We’ll forget about all this.”

“Nah. I’m over that idea now. I think your son is more fun.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Aspen growled. “Just throw the fucking dagger.”

“Language, son,” Jasper scolded.

“So uncouth for royal ilk.” River twitched the dagger toward the prince but didn’t release it. He studied Aspen’s reaction and waited until the UV light glimmered in the air five feet to his right, just before he appeared there. River’s next attempt wasn’t a feint. He targeted the prince and flicked his wrist, adjustinghis aim toward the shimmer mid-throw, releasing at the perfect moment.

The blade flew from his fingertips. Jasper, the son of a witch, portaled himself before his son and took the hit between his neck and shoulder.

“Party-pooper.” River scowled.

The wolf king’s deep rumble trembled the ground. Dismayed, Aspen jogged around to see his father as he yanked the dagger out. Blood oozed from the wound. River crouched to replay the angle of his dagger’s trajectory. If it had been allowed to continue, the blade would have sliced straight across Aspen’s cheekbone. So close. It might have taken off the whole ear.

“What’s the matter with you?” Jasper dropped the weapon and glared at River.