Chapter Eight
I ’m holding my breath.
My hands are shaking in rage, and my palms are sweating.
Fucking hell, my asshole is clenched so tightly that I doubt I will be able to shit for a week.
What the fuck have they done to him?
And scarier yet, what will our mate do when she sees him?
Given that I only have a few inches of height over Sythia, it doesn’t take long before she spots him. I know this because even with my asshole clenched, the amount of power that begins wafting from her is enough to nearly make me actually shit my pants.
There is no hiding the power flux from the surrounding elves either. Their attentions have all turned from the Princess and Lucian, straight to Forsythia.
Before I can even begin to formulate a plan, Midori shrinks into the crowd away from us, Forsythia lights up in flames, and shoves everyone away from her with a flap of her wings.
Me included.
I rebound as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. Everyone has taken notice of the now airborne Forsythia.
Airborne and completely fucking naked.
If the wisps of black flames dancing along her skin are any indication, she obviously burned her clothes off in her fit of rage.
Everyone else is in complete shock, and some are beginning to slowly inch their way out of the room from fear. Don’t get me wrong. My mate is a formidable force. And I am sure that some of them are terrified at seeing their myth come to life.
Me? I just stare at my sexy mate clumsy-flying in rage with her naked ass jiggling around, and–
Once we get out of here, I am never going to let her live this down.
I shake my head and try to quickly formulate a plan to help her. She shoots off straight toward Lucian. At the same time, I see various guards and at least one Dryma heading in the same direction.
Fuck!
I start shoving elves aside and making my way toward her as quickly as possible, but most of the crowd is too shocked to move, and Sythia is basically dive-bombing her giant mate.
She stops short seconds before colliding with our giant, and when I finally break through onto the pathway, I see why.
A female elf– dressed almost as opulently as the royal family– has a hand on the back of Lucian’s head and a dagger to his throat. The hand on his head is glowing. A clear indication that she is subduing him with her magicks as well.
Forsythia carefully sets herself down but still manages to stumble a little. The little clumsiness has the elf bitch clenching onto Lucian tighter, so I stop my migration to their position. Afraid my sudden arrival might agitate the already volatile situation.
The pause in momentum gives my brain a moment to catch up to the small details. Like how Forsythia is fully Noctifer Witched out, and yet, I still have full access to my own magicks. I spare a quick glance up and notice that not even a slight eclipse is forming the way it usually does, either. This can all only mean one thing…
Even though she looks like she is at her full power, Forsythia is only operating at about half her normal arsenal.
Double fuck.
And Lucian looks absolutely terrified.
All the super fuckity fuck fucks.
Alright, it’s ok. That just means it’s my turn to save the day.
How am I going to do–
I catch a slight nod from the indifferent Princess, before she moves away from Lucian’s side and continues her calm glide towards the King. She pays no mind to me as she passes, but peering behind her, I catch a glimpse of… something.
It’s almost like the shimmer of sunlight on the water, but this was in the air. Everyone else seems oblivious, and when the bitch elf with the dagger opens her mouth to finally say something to Sythia, a bright green mist smacks her right in the face.
The elf bitch drops the dagger and her hold on Lucian, then collapses onto the grass.
Asleep.
What in the–
Midori pops into sight directly beside Lucian and grabs his arm before they both pop out of view.
Well, that’s a fucking nifty trick.
Not sparing a single moment, I dash to Forsythia and throw my robe around her before turning and dragging her down the pathway from the direction we came. It seems that most of the guards went to the King’s side, so we don’t meet a lot of resistance along the way.
All of the elves still seem too shocked by Forsythia’s form to interfere. She is still sporting the horns and her other shifted appendages, and I still feel her magick swirling around her chaotically, but her rage seems to be ebbing.
Which also means that her magick, and probably her own energy, is going to start fading too.
Between puffs of breath, I manage to push out some words. “Hold on to that anger for a little while longer, babe. We just gotta get the fuck out of here.”
She nods curtly but stumbles a little and nearly falls on her face.
When she recovers her step, her horns recede back to their hiding place. Meaning she is running on empty. Fear floods my system at where– or rather, who– she might start pulling reserves from, and I use my own adrenaline boost to swoop her up into my arms as I continue to move quickly toward the large stairwell.
I’m already huffing, but I push myself as hard as I can.
I have to be strong enough.
For the three of us.