Page 55 of Fang & Fury

The bavaan who’d fought drew back, while others glided through the trees, lanterns aloft, and created a ring around the carnage and the four people they’d rescued.

Ailsa’s mouth went dry. Nobody moved, and quite frankly, she had no idea what to say or do. Clearly, her companions didn’t either.

The air grew colder then, the bavaans’ icy breath whispering across exposed skin.

She noticed that a few of the bavaan were injured too; their fine green robes ripped, bloody welts upon their bare arms, marks that almost looked like burns.

The kiss of iron.

Darach moved uneasily next to her. She caught the animal musk of the clag-doo then, and she cut him a sidelong glance, noting how his jaw bunched and the tendons in his neck stood out.

Gods. Was he about to shift again? Not a wise idea.

Meanwhile, the ring of bavaan parted, and then one of them walked through into the clearing.

Lantern light caught her face. Ailsa took her in. Aquiline features. Blood-red lips drawn into a perfect bow. Arched, winged dark eyebrows that framed large eyes as black as pitch.

And hair the same color flowed like oil over her slender shoulders.

Like the others, she dressed in flowing, rippling green.

The bavaan halted a few yards from them, her gaze raking over the bloodied group standing in the middle of the road.

Fern shifted forward, the gesture protective, her breathing ragged now.

Like her companions, she hadn’t uttered a word.

Meanwhile, the bavaan’s black gaze flicked between Ailsa and Kayla before resting upon the latter. “It’s been a while,” she said softly.

17: NO NEED FOR INTRODUCTIONS

THERE WAS NO need for introductions—no need for Kayla to tell her who this was.

However, when Ailsa glanced left at her mentor and marked the stricken look on her face, the pallor of her skin, there was absolutely no doubt.

Aye, this was her mother.

Kayla stared back at the bavaan. “Isleen … I never thought—”

“To ever lay eyes on me again?”

“No.”

Isleen’s lips tilted up at the corners. “Aye, well, I didn’t expect you would ever cross my path either, Kayla … but here we are.” The bavaan shifted her attention then, taking in Fern’s pale, bloodied face, before it settled on Darach.

He stood silent, covered in gore and mud. Blood trickled down his naked skin from wounds to his thigh and shoulder. Isleen raked her gaze over him, lingering on his groin before settling on the tattoo upon his right thigh. Her dark eyes glinted.

Around her, some of the other bavaan shifted forward, their nostrils flaring as they scented his blood.

Of course, these faeries only hunted men.

Darach stared back at them, face hard, body rigid.

Ailsa inhaled the musky scent of the clag-doo then.

One wrong move from any of the bavaan and he’d shift again. She could feel it.

Shit. She couldn’t let him.