Page 48 of Fae Farewells

I saw the lingering fear flash across her face before she schooled her features, so I kneeled in front of her, my hand on her knee. “Freya, Sloane is ready to kill her now, but she won’t until you two and her parents are free from your cells.”

“So, she’s waiting on us?” she asked, not used to people other than her siblings and Sarge caring for her.

“She doesn’t want anyone she cares about to be collateral damage,” Vaughn explained softly. “She doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“She doesn’t know me.”

Briggs shook his head, though his words were reassuring. “You're her mate’s older sister. She doesn’t need to know you.”

“Fuck off,” Freya snarled, outraged at the wolf.

“What did I say?” he popped back.

“I’m a year younger than Vaughn.”

He twisted his beard around his fingers. “I didn’t know that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Vaughn told his sister. “She cares about me, and I care about you. That’s all she needed to know to wrap you under her blanket of protection. There’s no need to fear anymore, Frey. Bigger monsters than Alania are fighting with us.”

I wouldn’t exactly call Sloane a monster, but I understood the point he was trying to make. His sisters needed to know there wasn’t a single person from any realm that would harm them and avoid consequences.

Her wrath was godlike, but only to those who deserved it.

Her loyalty, though?

That was unconditional to the few who were worthy.

“Guards are coming,” Briggs mumbled, stepping into the void.

I tipped my head at Vaughn and Freya. “Sloane will come soon.”

Thursday, June 18th

Night

I skipped searching the palace like York and Briggs did, instead opting to go straight to my fae. Those trackers weren’t just pretty marks. I didn’t understand why they rarely used them.

The Void brought me right to Vaughn, a grin on my face as I stepped out beside him. His sister flinched, not used to this type of magic or wholly unprepared for another visitor so soon. I couldn’t be sure. But my fae didn’t even blink, just wrapped his arms around me before pulling me to his side.

“This is Freya,” Vaughn said. “Freya, this is Sloane.”

I held my right index finger up as I dug into the pouch of my hoodie with my left hand. Hellish mice. What was I thinking? They were trying to escape, too bored to listen to reason, so they needed something to do.

“Ouch, you little asshole,” I grumbled, narrowing my eyes at the three gray mice.

“Helios?” Vaughn guessed.

“I don't know, but probably. That’s the second time one of them has bitten me.”

“What do you mean by you don’t know?”

I held my hands, giving him a closer look. “I didn’t make them different colors when I changed them from butterflies to mice.”

“Why do you have mice in your pocket?” Freya asked, peeking around Vaughn’s arm.

“Because they’re hellhounds, and I couldn’t fit those in my pocket.”

“No. Those are mice,” she replied slowly.