Page 3 of Of Pixies and Promises (Fae Guardians)

Chapter

Three

T he explosion woke Nyra’s survival instincts, jolting her into action. She drew on the last drops of mana in her personal well and shrunk to the size of a dragonfly, hoping she would be small enough to avoid injury from the blast.

Only she wasn’t alone.

The handsome human was still attached to her wrist. When she shrunk, her magic flowed into him. He shrunk too. Hot fiery air scalded their backs, and they were thrust upward. As gravity took hold, she tested her wings.

They worked. Not burned. Still holding the human, she flew like a drunken manabee deeper into the forest. Ferns swallowed them.

His weight pulled her balance off-center, messing with her balance.

All she could think was to fly… escape the explosion, escape the humans with their forbidden magic-cutting metals.

Escape danger. They crashed and ricocheted into plants and trees, slid down fronds, and eventually tumbled into mud. Pain burst in Nyra’s back.

My wings!

Crushed. Blinking through blinding agony, little sharp cries burst from her lips. She rolled to a sitting position and the large, flat frond she’d landed on shuddered. Big dew drops wobbled.

The human—Sid, one of the others had called him—had fallen next to her.

He groaned and reached for his head. His tied hair was all messed up.

The giant frond shuddered again. Dew drops from higher up the frond slid toward them, gathering momentum as liquid collected.

Sid’s hand slammed onto the leaf as he pushed himself upright, but his quake signed their fate.

Water cascaded onto them. Sid’s eyes widened as he found Nyra’s. A thousand thoughts passed in a fleeting second. They were too small to withstand the torrent. Danger was coming. Possibly death.

He would have taken a bullet for her if she hadn’t accidentally shrunk him.

Maybe it wasn’t an accident. Maybe she’d wanted to save him as he’d intended to save her. As the water hit, she thought she might have liked to talk more to this human.

They slid down foliage into the underbrush of the lush forest. Sid’s heavier body went faster, shooting past her.

He had the sense to grab her so they wouldn’t lose each other.

She hoped. Nyra tucked her battered wings and tried to protect them, but everything hurt.

A bump in their leafy slide shot them into the air.

Nyra screamed. Real panic entered her voice.

Without her wings or mana, she was at the mercy of gravity—every pixie’s nightmare.

Sid tugged her close. Strong arms enveloped her. Suddenly, her fear became contained in the muscular arms of a human. She clutched his shirt, squeezed her eyes shut, and rode out the dips and turns of their slide, ignoring foliage whipping by.

They landed hard in squishy mud.

Sid groaned beneath her. His chest heaved as he took in great lungfuls of air.

“You good?” he grunted, his voice raspy.

“My wings…”

Nyra untangled herself and scrambled to her feet. She glanced over her shoulder and almost cried at the ragged holes in her membranes. The coronation ceremony! How would she explain this to Colt? Or to her mother. The gown was ruined. God, she was so foolish and naive.

The wing exoskeleton was bruised but intact. She would eventually heal in a few days… maybe a week, but until then, she would walk everywhere. If she could shift, then she would heal faster.

But she was empty. Bone dry. Not a single drop of mana existed inside her personal well. Refilling at a normal pace—from nature around her—could take anywhere between hours or days. She would be small for a while unless she found a power source to expedite her refilling process.

With a groan, Sid got to his feet and took in their surroundings. His gaze snapped to her in disbelief. “You shrunk me?”

Nyra scoffed. “I thought that was obvious.”

He paled and mumbled, “I thought I just hit my head.”

“You did.”

“I did,” he repeated, shaking his head with a wince.

Nyra reached out. “Here, let me take a look.”

He flinched away, and his expression turned suspicious. “You shrunk me.”

“I saved you.”

“Unshrink me,” he demanded, stepping closer, becoming more of that predator she’d first imagined him to be.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?”

“I’m out of mana.”

“Get some.”

“My wings are broken. I can’t just fly out of here and find a power source. It’s going to take time at this size.”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know. Everything takes longer when you’re small.”

He covered his face with his hand and groaned. Nyra’s nerves evaporated, and anger washed in.

“You know, you didn’t have to step before me. You could have let them shoot me. So don’t blame this on me.”

He stared at her, clearly grappling with his choice. Suddenly looking lost, he cupped his nape and shook his head. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but he said nothing.

Guilt tickled her gut, which made her feel worse. First, she couldn’t make dust. Now she felt pity for a human. What the Well was wrong with her?

“You didn’t have to save me,” he grumbled half-heartedly.

Nyra opened her lips, about to say it was an accident, but then remembered that she’d been holding his shirt in fear while he’d gripped her wrist. He’d glanced over his shoulder, seen the fear in her eyes, and then stepped between her and the men with guns.

He’d protected her.

At a loss for words, they stared at each other. The tendon at the side of his jaw twitched sexily. Well-dammit. Why did males look so hot when they were angry? She folded her arms, huffed, and glanced away.

Enemies don’t save each other.

He eventually said, “I’m Sid.”

“I know.” Her lips twitched in a half smile. “I’m Nyra.”

She had an official title but somehow thought keeping that to herself would be wise.

“You mentioned a source of power,” he said.

She begrudgingly nodded. “I need to get to high ground, and then I can figure out which direction to find one.”

He gave a curt nod and searched around them. He picked up sticks from the mud. He tested them, discarded them, and then hunted deeper into the plant, where he snapped off bigger branches.

“What are you doing?” she asked, curious.

He glanced at her, then went back to work.

Right. He’s a talkative one.

Huffing, Nyra checked on her wings. She stretched them with a wince but bit her lip to stop whimpering. Showing weakness probably wasn’t a good idea. In fact, she should give him the slip and find a way to get to her coronation. But something stopped her.

You good? he’d asked after they’d crash-landed.

And before, when they’d slid down the leaf, and she’d cried out in pain, he’d cocooned her in his arms. Her enemy had protected her again. When Sid returned with a long stick and a sharp rock, she realized he was still trying to protect her.

“Are you making weapons?” she asked.

He gave a grumble she supposed sounded like a yes.