Page 69 of Fae Farewells

“Stone?” York inquired, steady eyes on our mate.

“Yeah.”

“Why are you instigating? It's not really your thing.”

Sloane snorted.

I shot her a lethal smile. “This place is boring. We need something to do.”

“So you’re trying to get a rise out of her? Really? You could just pick a fight with one of us four,” Briggs suggested, then turned to look at Sloane. “Why is everyone trying to test you?”

“I’ve tried to tell you.” She shrugged. “You’re making me soft, and people want to try my limits.”

“There’s no fun in that,” I replied to the wolf. “I can beat you guys. I can’t beat her.”

“Her who?” Purple asked me, twisting to mock the way my Kitten was sitting. “The baby fae in his lap?”

Novak cleared his throat, leaning up to press his chest against Sloane’s left side. “Just so we’re clear, you don’t know who she is, correct?”

“No,” Purple responded. “Is she someone special?”

“She doesn’t really look like anyone special,” Lavender added.

Mauve nodded. “Just another young fae parading around—”

“So this is Samantha, Venus, and Mandi—with an i.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Novak told me, invading my thoughts. “We see what you’re doing, but this isn’t the way, Stone. You’re about to step farther into this fire than you were expecting.”

Sloane ran her fingers through the ends of her hair as she calmly stated, “I don’t care about their names.”

“Just one more push. We need her to be herself, not this soft, rational stranger,” I argued with the vampire.

“Mandi was showing me this wild thing she can do with her tongue, but Venus has magic hands.”

Novak tightened his grip on Sloane, though I didn’t see her so much as twitch a muscle. The only thing that moved were her eyes, stalking her prey for the perfect opportunity to pounce.

York leaned his head against the back of the armchair as he closed his eyes. Mauve circled around us to get to the druid, running her fingertips over his shoulder.

He caught her by the wrist. “I will break your fingers if you touch me again.”

“No, not her fingers, York,” my Kitten purred, deadly and mad. “I might want to keep those.”

“Correction,” he stated to the fae woman. “I will break your wrist. My Sweetheart wants to keep your fingers for her collection.”

“But I think I like those better,” she said, pointing to the hand on my chest.

Mauve huffed a quiet laugh. “Open threats—”

Sloane was out of Novak’s lap and across the room before Mauve could finish her sentence. I didn’t even see what she did, but the fae woman dropped to the ground, her neck mangled and pouring blood.

“I don’t make threats,” my Kitten explained to the women. “They’re promises I intend to keep. I happen to have the necessary tools to kill a fae.”

She wiped her hand on her hoodie, tipped her head as she amended her statement. “Enough of it to kill an army, actually. Whether or not you die permanently depends on what you’re touching when I get to you.”

Purple jerked her head back, eyes wide. “Wha—”

Sloane grabbed Purple by her neck, dragging the fae out of my lap while she reached for Lavender’s hand. My kitten put her bare foot on the shocked woman’s chest, using the leverage to rip her away.