Firedrake - By Bianca D'Arc Page 0,70

nature had nurtured hatred from the other women. She brought divisiveness to a clan that had always been fiercely loyal to each other. Finally, the leader decided marriage to a reclusive nobleman would be the best solution. The girl had to be exiled for the good of the clan, but she didn’t mind. She became a duchess and quickly put her new, rich husband under her spell, along with all the menfolk in his domain.

This Gwen didn’t seem selfish in the least, but Krysta was reserving judgment. She would watch and listen closely. She didn’t quite fear losing her bonded mates to the beauty, but she certainly didn’t like the way they watched her. Krysta had only just joined with them. Was she so forgettable that both Drake and Mace would begin to ignore her so soon? She almost expected it of Drake, with his rogue’s reputation, but certainly not Mace. He’d seemed so steady and stable.

Krysta must have frowned as she thought, for suddenly she felt two warm hands grasp both of hers, one on each side. She looked up from her depressing thoughts to find Mace—and Drake—each holding one of her hands, smiling at her in a comforting, loving way.

“She really can’t help it, you know.” Gryffid intruded on the shared moment. Krysta looked to the wizard who watched the retreat of his granddaughter. “It’s her great-grandmother’s power. Each of my grandchildren descended of my brief affair with Luna have been irresistible to humans of the opposite sex. Luna’s magic is of the moon and the tides. She can also tug on the emotions, lust most of all. I’ll admit, Luna ensnared me for a time.” Gryffid shook his head. “We had a son named Rigel. He had—and still has—his choice of women, but he chose a human mate many centuries ago and when she eventually died, she broke his heart. Gwen is their grandchild. Luna’s influence was strong in the girl, so they sent her to me for her own good. I have few humans here on the island and most are impervious to her magic because I have bespelled them so. Rather ironic, that. Using magic to negate magic, eh? But it works.”

They didn’t have time to comment as a group of servants and Gwen herself arrived with a series of steaming platters and dishes. The servants were unlike any people Krysta had ever seen. They were tall, stately beings, with icy-blond hair and perfectly chiseled features. They looked human—except for their delicately pointed ears.

They reminded her of Jinn fairytales, and her heart sped a pace as she realized she was beholding fair folk!

“We’ll start with this,” Gwen said as she took a seat next to Gryffid, “and the rest of the household will join us shortly. I know the three of you are probably quite hungry after the crossing.” A platter of bread with dipping oils and creamy butter was placed near the three travelers as the fair folk set the tables quickly and efficiently. They made little sound and smiled back when Krysta thanked them. They seemed friendly—not the powerfully scary beings of Jinn legend.

Krysta’s stomach rumbled with hunger as she dug into the delicious breads. Some of the little loaves were black, some brown with spices and seeds of different kinds, but all delicious. She ate as daintily as she could, considering her ravenous hunger, but by the time she looked up, the entire hall was filled with tables, set with plates and platters of all kinds of things. People were filing in—more of the fair folk, for almost every single one had a fair complexion and varying shades of blond hair. They chatted amiably as they went to their tables, and Krysta noted more than a few warriors among their ranks.

Nellin walked in behind William and two of the fiercer-looking warrior folk, heading straight for their table. William kissed Gwen on the cheek before he took his place on Gryffid’s other side, and Nellin went to his mate, twining her neck with his as he settled behind Mace. Behind her, the two dragons made an impenetrable wall of protection for the three of them.

“Where did all those other tables come from? And the chairs?” Krysta finally asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Gryffid’s eyes twinkled. “Magic, my dear.”

Two imposing figures stood at Drake’s side of the table, waiting, apparently, for introduction. Both were fair folk, but of a more muscular tone than the servants she’d seen. Both wore leathers, and their hair