Page 61 of Voidwalker (Beasts of the Void #1)

Just ignore the bite marks

It took too long for Fi to drag herself out of bed.

Longer still, the arduous process of dressing for the day ahead, slowed by subtle looks of appreciation as Antal tugged a pair of dark pants snug at his waist, his less subtle nips to her neck whenever she strayed too close.

Watching him dress was torture, alleviated only by the view of taut back muscles as he slipped on a shirt, the delicious tension in his forearms as he rolled his sleeves to the elbow.

An otherworldly beauty, as alluring as whispering her fingers across the edge of a blade.

Antal smirked when he caught her staring. Insufferable bastard.

At last, Fi pulled on her coat and boots, bracing for the cold and a long day away from the bed she very much didn’t want to leave. Before she opened the door, Antal snared an arm around her waist, nose nestled to her cheek.

“A shame we have business to attend,” he said. “I’d enjoy you all day.”

Fi didn’t need that temptation.

“Are you sure you aren’t just hungry?” she said.

He hummed. “Perhaps… some of that. Don’t worry, Fionamara. I can enjoy my tastes of you without biting any harder.”

Fi wasn’t worried for herself, surprisingly. She worried for him. Whatever hunger she’d helped satisfy last night—and this morning—was the easier of the two. Days ticked by since his last meal.

“We’ll find something,” she said. “Before facing Verne. Need you in fighting shape.”

Another logistic weighing on her mind. This morning, though? None of that felt as daunting. Training recruits, feeding a daeyari, planning to topple Verne—Fi stepped out of her cottage, took a breath of lung-chilling air, and felt she could accomplish anything.

Antal’s steady presence at her side certainly helped.

They traveled into Nyskya, back to the training grounds.

The recruits wouldn’t appear for another hour, but Kashvi and Boden arrived early, sorting weapons and setting up targets.

Kashvi, murderous scowl notwithstanding, agreed to let Antal teach her to use daeyari energy capsules when Shaping her crossbow bolts, testing small doses to determine what she could safely handle with her silver sickness.

Fi wandered to the far side of the archery range for some practice of her own. Yvette’s crossbows were swiftly made but elegant, metal mechanisms that weighed heavy in Fi’s hands. Several yards ahead, a copper disk hung from a tree.

She Shaped a silver energy bolt onto the track. Squared her stance. Aimed. Breathed.

Her victorious whoop echoed alongside the clang of the target, spinning from a direct hit.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

Boden stood at her side, a crossbow looking as natural in his hands as a hare wielding a broadsword.

“Do I need a reason?” Fi returned, fully aware that the reason involved the surprising length of a daeyari’s tongue—and fully committed to not telling Boden about it. Yet. Maybe after things got quieter.

Boden’s huff billowed steam. He lifted his crossbow and spent several seconds aiming. When he fired, the bolt zipped past a tree and disappeared into the forest.

Fi laughed. It was cruel, but her sworn duty as a little sister.

“Having trouble, Bodie?”

“I wasn’t made for this,” he grumbled.

“You were made for financial ledgers and aurorabeast snot? Noted.”

He muttered under his breath while fidgeting with the crossbow. Armed with a suitably condescending grin, Fi stepped over to help.

“I’ll get it,” Boden said.

“Sure you will. But you’ve got to fix your stance first.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

“You need every ounce of it.” Fi kicked his legs wider in the snow. “Brace the stock to your chest. Like this.”

She put her hands over Boden’s and nudged the crossbow into alignment. He rolled his eyes. Void have mercy, was this the smug satisfaction he got from lecturing her about budgets?

“I seem to recall coming here to practice on my own,” he argued.

“I seem to recall you being a stubborn little shit,” Fi returned. “Breathe in. Aim. Fire on the exhale.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing!”

“Breathe better . A real target won’t wait around for you to… what’s wrong?”

Boden fell silent. Ashen. Staring at her. Fi entertained a hope that he might be staring at some monstrosity behind her, but when she turned, there was only an empty field.

She flinched when he cupped her cheek. Slow, cold fingers brushed her neck, lowering the collar of her coat to…

Fuck.

“Fi…” Boden breathed.

Bite marks. She had bite marks on her neck. Fi had tried covering them with a collar, had banked on keeping her distance from prying eyes.

“ Fi .” Boden’s hiss grew urgent. “What are these?”

One morning of peace. Was that so much to ask for?

“Nothing.” Fi willed her cheeks not to burn. She felt herself failing.

“Did Antal do this to you?”

Fi’s energy fled her body. Gone to the Void. Bury her ashes in the frozen ground.

“I said it’s nothing, Bodie.”

“Is he hurting you?”

Fi blinked.

Then again.

He thought that…

“Oh, Bodie. My sweet, innocent little boy.” She cupped his bearded cheeks in her hands. Took a deep breath. “It’s consensual.”

Boden’s eyes shot wider. “ Consensual? ”

“As in, I gave him permission.”

“I know what consensual means, Fi.”

“I asked for it, more specifically.”

Fi wasn’t ashamed. Not for an instant. But this was her own damn business, and she didn’t want to have this conversation, mostly because the reaction she expected was…

“You’re kidding,” came Boden’s flat reply. “You let him bite you? And then… Fi… please don’t tell me you…”

Right. There it was.

“Why do you care?” Fi pleaded.

“I’m your brother, Fionamara.”

Shit. Pulling out the full name? Fi scoffed. “You’ve never cared about the people I fucked.”

He winced at her blunt words. “Those were people. Not a daeyari!”

“ He is a person.”

“He is a carnivore .”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t—”

“Is everything all right?” came a wary voice behind them.

Fi and Boden froze, grappling over a crossbow like a pair of magpies with a shiny toy, turning in unison to see Antal staring at them.

Void, no.

Fi’s molten gaze snapped back to Boden. No words. Just a clenched jaw and a mental scream. Drop it, Bodie. I’m fine.

Boden’s glare came back defiant. Not a chance.

Boden . Fi’s look promised death if he said so much as a word.

“Hey, Antal?” Boden said.

Fi tried to disappear. Where was her transport stone when she needed it? Thrown into the Void by Cardigan’s damn assistant. Neither did she have a Curtain to leap into. Antal’s eyes darted between them, visibly confused.

Boden yanked the crossbow from Fi’s numb fingers. Propped it on his shoulder. The attempt at looking intimidating would have had her in stitches, if she weren’t weighing the pros and cons of tackling him to the ground.

“Do you have any siblings?” Boden asked the daeyari.

Antal’s eyes narrowed to baffled slits. “No… daeyari are wary of overpopulation. Single children are most common.”

“But do you understand a brother’s responsibility to make sure his sister is safe?”

“I… suppose.”

“Taken care of?”

Antal’s head tilted. When his bewildered gaze slid to Fi, she gave him a withering look and tugged down her collar, displaying the bite marks.

Antal’s entire demeanor changed. Not for the better, Fi was mortified to see. The bloom of his toothy grin had her bracing for battle.

“I see,” Antal said slowly. Practically licking his lips at Fi’s discomfort. “You worry I’m not taking care of her?”

Void no. Fi could use a Void right now to swallow her.

“I want to know you aren’t going to eat her,” Boden said.

Fi saw the response coming a mile away. Too slow to stop it.

“Well,” Antal drawled, “not unless she asks me to.”

Fi wondered what he’d look like reincarnated. After she murdered him, of course.

The blow struck Boden to mortified silence. He looked to Fi, and when she managed a tight nod without perishing, he dropped his attention to fidgeting with the crossbow.

“I don’t need to know these details,” he muttered. “My life is stressful enough.”

Antal laughed. Fi shot him a barbed glare.

“You’re insufferable,” she said.

“Thank you,” he returned.

He held her gaze, but when Fi refused to back down—when she stared hard enough to drive a mental crossbow bolt through his crass skull—Antal’s grin wavered.

“Boden,” Antal said, softer.

Boden waved a hand. “I don’t need to know specifics, please. I just want to know—”

“I promise you. I will never harm her, nor willfully allow harm to come to her.” Antal touched the highest point of an antler. “As Veshri watches from the Void.”

That silenced Boden and Fi. His sincerity struck as a shock—and, if she was honest, a little flutter in her chest.

“You mean that?” Boden, once again, looked to Fi.

“I’m fine, Bodie.”

“Fine is a strong word, Fi.”

“Stop making this weird.”

“Weird? I’ve hardly ever met a daeyari, much less someone willing to fuck one!”

“She’s doing what ?” Kashvi’s shrill voice sliced into the fray.

Fi’s newest inquisitor stood with mouth open, crossbow more intimidating in her hands than any of Boden’s attempts. Too busy arguing, Fi hadn’t noticed her creeping closer. She pressed a hand to her temple, ready to combust.

“Maybe we should talk about this later?” Boden offered, finally mollified by her discomfort.

“You think?” Fi snapped.

“Oh no,” Kashvi said, “don’t stop on my account. I’m eager to hear what kind of insanity you’re up to now. With a daeyari? With this daeyari? I knew you were on his side!”

Fi threw up her hands. “Why in the far-reaching Void is my private time so interesting to everyone? There’s nothing to…”

She trailed off.

Antal stood rigid. Not the mortified, soul-withering rigid Fi was enduring, but something taut. Alert. He lifted his head, scenting the air.

“Antal?” Fi asked.

His lips pulled into a snarl. “There’s another daeyari here.”

The air creaked, boots shifting on snow, grips tightening on crossbows.

“A daeyari?” Fi said. “Who? Where?”

Before Antal could answer, a roar sounded from the village.