“He’s the only one still competing,” Steve said before Charity could start off across the field. “His victories don’t count, but he keeps going anyway.”
Charity hesitated. “What do you mean, his victories don’t count? Count toward what?”
Steve lazily waved his hand toward the field. “This is some sort of fighting competition for people who think they are fierce and literally have nothing better to do. It’s tied to their status in the community, I think. Being that the Supreme Alpha Woman Magnet is not warrior fae, his victories do not count. He can advance, but so does the person who challenged him. And he does have to wait for them to challenge him. It’s a bonus of some sort.” He fluttered his eyebrows. “Or something, I don’t know. But like I said, these fae like our magic. They like the feeling of fighting with it, so he has no end of challengers. The men want to best him, and the women want to fu—paint rocks with him.”
“Paint rock—” Charity shook her head. She wanted to march across that field, challenge her love, fight him across the gloriously green field, and then drag him back to her bed and claim him. None of those chicks would be laying a hand on her goods. “Then why is he still doing this? It sounds stupid.”
“You were resting and he wasn’t allowed to wait by your side. He needs something to do with his hands. This is why love can really sour a good time. No offense.”
“I’m done resting.”
The madwoman’s cackles followed Charity across the field.Chapter Twenty-Eight“Enough,” Charity shouted, strutting past the women staring at Devon in rapture.
Devon flung his opponent back with ease. The male fae groaned as his head thudded down onto the field. Child’s play. Devon had been placating the lesser fighter. Wasting time, as Steve had said.
Devon spun around, his slightly widened eyes the only sign he wasn’t totally composed. His gaze held hers, but he didn’t make a move toward her. Hell, he didn’t even smile in hello.
She lowered her eyebrows into a scowl, not sure if she was angry or annoyed.
“Aren’t you happy to see me?” she asked, bracing a hand to her hip.
His hard expression slipped for a moment, revealing a flash of intense longing. “Yes. More than you could possibly know. How do you feel? I didn’t think they’d let you out of bed so soon.”
“A nutter broke me out and brought me here.” She smiled and took a deep breath as murmuring rose from the small crowd of spectators. “I feel amazing. Thanks to you. They said I should’ve died. You’ve really pulled ahead in our lifesaving competition. We’re far from even now.”
“They wouldn’t let me wait with you. They said my magic would interfere.”
“I felt you through the magical link. I just focused on that when I woke up.” She took a deep breath. “He’s my father. He says he’s my father, in any case. And that I look like my great-grandmother. And that I have her magic. And that these are my people and I’ll fit in here.”
A soft smile pulled the corners of his lips. “See? The big dogs were right all along.”
“I’m going to tell Roger you called him a dog.” She laughed, so damn glad to see his face again. “I hear your wins don’t count toward whatever fighting competition is afoot.”
Anger sparked in his beautiful brown eyes. The green and gold specks danced dangerously. He shrugged to show his indifference, but he didn’t even come close to selling it.
She grinned. “What do you get if you win the whole thing?”
“Can’t. Only a fae can win the whole thing.”
“But won’t it be interesting if you beat the fae that wins the whole thing?”
He shook his head. “Not possible. Animal forms aren’t acknowledged. I don’t use weapons as well as people who’ve trained with them all their lives. Without my shifter form, there’s only so far I can advance.”
She laughed again. “Your involvement in the competition isn’t acknowledged. What’s the difference if you use your animal form or not? Just wait until you finally battle some fighters worth your time. I bet they’ll be happy for the extra challenge of fighting teeth and fur. And if they aren’t?” She shrugged. “Taunt them for being cowards. Easy.”
A grin pulled at his lips. “I missed you.”
“I know. Now let’s see if you’ve learned anything.” She launched at him, seeing his hesitation—his worry for her—and used it to slap him across the face. Speaking of taunting.
He staggered back, trying to put distance between them. She advanced, not letting him.
“Charity—”
“What do you think I am?” She blocked his weak attempt to shove her back, and this time she backhanded him. The slap rang out across the field. The onlookers gasped. She barely caught Steve out of the corner of her eye, striding their way with a big smile. “Breakable?”